Archive of Our Own

The Hidden in the Leaves Library was a library more for the vibe than the content. With stained glass ceilings, dark wood walls and dusty forest green curtains, it was created to evoke a sense of secret timelessness. That was also why they stayed open from 6am to midnight every day—to provide a place to escape to at almost any point of the day.

It was so committed to the bit that it didn’t even have computers or copiers or security cameras, though patrons were free to bring and use their own technology. All the labels on the shelves were handwritten calligraphy on parchment and had to be replaced every few months due to wear and tear, and all the books were checked out with date stamps on a card inside the cover.

When Sasuke Uchiha was feeling particularly artsy and wispy, which usually happened right after finishing a poetry assignment for his creative writing course, he found the vibe made him feel just a little bit magical. He enjoyed heading over to the kettle shaped like a teapot and brewing himself a cup of vanilla black tea to sip at the counter or to carry around with him as he restocked the towering shelves, squeezing his rickety trolley down the tiny aisles. He would brush his fingers along the fake vines draped over the ends of the rows and revel in the dust and age. All manufactured of course (the fake vines were from IKEA) but it was still an inspiring setting.

Sasuke had been coming here to write ever since he started his degree three years ago and had been secretly thrilled when he got offered a part time position. It was a job with flexible hours around his uni schedule and often involved working alone. During the night shift he had, it was even quiet enough to work on his assignments, provided he used pen and paper and not a laptop. The owner, an old man called Hiruzen who often smoked pipes and read tarot in the staff room, actually wrote ‘preservation of atmosphere’ as a core responsibility in the job description.

Under this clause, all employees had to dress timelessly too so today, for his 8pm to midnight shift on a Wednesday night, Sasuke was wearing a blood-red button up with charcoal grey slacks. The boss didn’t care about accessories though, so Sasuke was still free to wear his tiny silver hoop earrings and black nail polish. 

It was about 10pm and he was sitting on the stool behind the circular mahogany counter, scribbling in his Moleskine notebook. He slipped the end of his fountain pen between his lips and brushed his tongue along the tip. His Approaches to Theories and Ideas class was all kinds of dry and all his attempts to brainstorm a fiction piece inspired by postmodernism were leading to dead ends. At least it was quiet though; all he could hear was the light scratch of his pen against the cream pages, the faint shuffle of footsteps whenever a patron would enter or exit, and the quiet thump of his date stamp against newly borrowed books. 

Suddenly, the door whispered open and a bright shock of colour entered, almost as bright as the library's stained glass ceiling at midday. The man’s hair was messy, as if the wind had just had its way with him, raking its fingers through the golden locks, and he was dressed in his usual black sweatpants, grey t-shirt and signature neon orange jacket. He was like a traffic cone and Sasuke always stopped for him.

It was Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke guessed you could call them acquaintances.

“Hey, Sasuke,” Naruto said quietly in that familiar rasp, cautious of the fragile silence, leaning over the counter and sliding his hand across its surface as if he wanted to brush Sasuke’s hair from his face or something romantic like that. 

Maybe that was just his imagination. 

Even though it was dark and autumn outside, Naruto smelled like sunshine—warm and citrusy. 

“Naruto,” Sasuke replied, staring up into those blue, blue eyes, before Naruto pulled away with a soft smile and headed to his usual corner. Sasuke could already picture where he’d sit, in the short padded wingback chairs at the table right in the back corner, tucked away with the horribly outdated dictionaries and atlases, Kindle cupped in his tanned fingers, tapping or swiping lightly with every digital page turn.

Yes, acquaintances was the best word for it. Sasuke knew Naruto’s name, Naruto knew his, they knew each other’s majors, and they would greet each other on entry and exit to Hidden in the Leaves. Every Wednesday shift for the past seven months, Naruto had occupied that back corner table from the hours of 10pm to midnight. He was always the last one to leave and would sometimes even stay a bit longer to keep Sasuke company while he locked up and set the ancient alarm (the one piece of technology Hiruzen had begrudgingly allowed). 

Sometimes, during the two hours Naruto was there, if Sasuke was particularly proud of an idea, he’d let the blond have a read of his rough draft or outline, sitting in the opposite wingback at that round table and sliding his Moleskine across the surface, a quiet brush of faux leather on wood and a ruffle of pages.

Sasuke valued Naruto’s opinion. Despite being a third-year communications major with a minor in philosophy, Naruto had a surprisingly honed sense for creative writing. Because that’s what writing was to Sasuke—less a skill and more a sense. But more than that, Naruto always reacted so honestly to his work. It was a pleasure just watching his face as he read, eyebrows screwing up at the suspenseful parts, eyes softening at the sad parts, and lips twitching into wry smiles at the careful turns of phrase Sasuke had spent the better part of hours refining. Naruto was a passionate reader and if Sasuke was just a little too poetic about him, even on his non-poetry days, well, that was just because every writer wanted a passionate reader of their work.

Sasuke scribbled down a metafiction idea about a writer speaking to their reader through the piece itself and as soon as he swirled the last dot point, he wanted to find Naruto and workshop the idea with him. Looking up from the counter, Sasuke watched Naruto disappear into the dictionary corner with nothing more than a flash of orange. 

Fuck, there was something about Naruto that drew Sasuke to disgustingly flowery description. Naruto was handsome. Pretty even, in a golden, heroic, princely ‘Chosen One’ kind of way. Sasuke had working eyes—it was impossible not to notice how Naruto practically glowed against the deep colours of the library. In the summer, when it was warm enough in the library for just a t-shirt, Sasuke had also taken note of his toned chest and shoulders. However, despite the hardness in the lines of his torso and arms, the jut of his wrist bone and knuckles as he held his Kindle or flicked through Sasuke’s notebook, his cheeks were soft and full and his blond hair was fluffy like a dandelion. 

But his eyes…

Sasuke secretly loved that Naruto would greet him at the counter when he came in because it gave him an excuse to turn and look into those sky-blue eyes like a sunflower turning to the sun. The particular shade of blue in Naruto’s eyes made Sasuke want to draw parallels to oceans and sirens and sapphires.

So, yeah. Acquaintances. 

That’s all.

Sasuke nodded sagely to himself, happy with his sound assessment of his fascination with Naruto. 

After stamping a couple patrons’ books as they left—leaving Naruto as the only remaining customer—Sasuke loaded up his reshelving trolley and made his way through the winding aisles, making sure to detour past Naruto’s corner. After all, it was part of his job to ‘ensure the comfort and safety of all library patrons’. Again, it was in the job description. 

Naruto was leaning back against one wing of the chair, Kindle resting on the edge of the table. A smirk flitted across his lips, followed by a quick dart of his tongue, leaving his lips glossy in the library's warm light from the mismatched floor and table lamps. No overhead lighting at all—it would interfere with the stained glass ceiling. 

Now, Sasuke was pretty perceptive. Over the course of Naruto’s visits, Sasuke had noticed a few things that often happened when Naruto read from his Kindle (as opposed to his laptop or photocopied textbooks). Sometimes he would bite his lip, draw one plump cushion between his teeth, indenting it with red. Sometimes he would jiggle his leg. Sometimes, if Sasuke got particularly close, under the guise of replacing labels or dusting shelves, he would hear Naruto’s breath catch. He’d hear it get louder or faster or both. Other times, Naruto would run a hand over his face, slightly flushed, and through his messy blond hair, sometimes twining his fingers in the strands and gripping in the way that surely must have hurt. He’d even tugged at the neckline of his t-shirt before, or removed his jacket even on a freezing winter day. 

Sometimes, most egregious of all, he would take one long tan finger, the nails sometimes painted pastel yellow or mint green or cherry blossom pink, place it between his lips and hold it between his teeth, lips parted just enough for Sasuke to see the flick of his tongue and the shine of his saliva. 

Sasuke hated how good he looked but what he hated even more was how he kept coming closer to get a glimpse. Naruto's suggestive little reactions brought fancy metaphors of debauched princes and wicked gods to Sasuke's mind. It made him want to write. Naruto made him want to write. 

God, he was such a fucking main character. 

Anyway, based on his reactions, Sasuke had a pretty solid hypothesis on what Naruto read on his Kindle.

Sasuke was no prude—he’d had sex, he masturbated regularly, and yes, he’d dabbled in reading (and, on one drunk night, writing) erotica. He believed that, to be a good writer, you needed to read a variety of things and expose yourself to all different kinds of writing. In line with that philosophy though, whenever he read erotica, he found himself swept up more in the craft and construction of the writing than the heat of the events. The pacing and tone of erotic writing was something to be admired. Sasuke, personally, knew how difficult it was to manage pacing from writing fight scenes so he couldn’t imagine also juggling tone and tension.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Sasuke abandoned his trolley in the cookbooks aisle, slipped silently into Naruto’s corner and hovered behind his chair. This corner was secluded from the rest of the library by a little L-shaped section of shelving and there was no one else here this late on a Wednesday (probably because most people had work in the morning, or better places to hang out on a weeknight). No one was here—Sasuke could have a little fun, right?

Holding his breath, Sasuke peered over the back of Naruto’s chair and read the first line from the screen.

With a broken moan, Charasuke pulled out to the tip and slammed back in and Menma collapsed onto his arms with a sharp moan at the friction on his rim, his prostate, the way the thrust shook his entire body.

Sasuke felt his face heat. He’d read smut before and had little to no reaction. Why did he feel like his blood was burning? He was only acquaintances with Naruto so he didn’t know his sexual orientation and despite the fact Sasuke knew his reading choice had no correlation, it still sent a jolt of hope through him. 

Leaning closer, Sasuke whispered, “What are you reading?”

Naruto jumped and nearly fell out of his chair. “What the fuck, man?” he hissed in that familiar sun-roughened voice. He was blushing furiously, blotches of red spreading across his cheeks, and he slammed the Kindle face down on the table.

Fuck, he was adorable. 

Sasuke smirked easily. “Relax. I was just curious.”

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked up at him with those pretty cornflower blue eyes. “Did you—ah—did you see anything?”

Sasuke’s dark eyes twinkled back. “Yes.”

Naruto blushed harder and hid his face in his hands. “Are you here to tell me off for reading that here?”

Sasuke waved a hand dismissively. “No. What you read is your business. Plus, there’s no one here anyway.”

“You probably think I’m some weirdo though,” he said, looking up bashful.

Fuck, his eyes were so blue. 

“No,” Sasuke corrected. Before he could think too hard, before his stupid overanalysing brain could hit the brakes, he shot out, “I think you’re hot.”

Naruto considered him. “Are you flirting with me, Sasuke?” he asked, a grin creeping across his red face.

His name in Naruto’s voice was like honey and Sasuke wanted to taste the sound on his tongue.

“Not necessarily,” Sasuke said coolly, slipping into the opposite armchair. “I'm bored up the front and no one else is here.”

“So you’re cool if I just keep reading this—” Naruto waved his Kindle, “—while you’re here?” 

Sasuke flipped open his Moleskine and pushed it towards Naruto. “No, idiot. I want you to read this.”

The way Naruto’s eyes lit up at the prospect of reading Sasuke’s writing made him feel warm inside. 

~ ~ ~

“Okay, so I really love the idea of the writing, like, disintegrating when the character realises they’re being written about—is there any way you can, like, physically distort the paper? Because then it could be like a literal fourth-wall break, that’d be soooo cool,” Naruto gushed, pointing to sections of Sasuke’s rough outline.

It was just for an assignment but the way Naruto treated every one of his ideas like it had the potential to be some huge exhibition or installation, changing the form and medium, was truly captivating. If Naruto was in his creative writing course, he would be the centre of attention—and not just for his neon orange attire. He would write in screenplay, in poetry, dabble in art and film, fiction and non-fiction, go to all the writers’ festivals and chat up all the alumni and industry pros. He would be creative and extroverted, a salesman of his own work. 

While Sasuke got good scores, his GPA was near perfect and he was well on his way to graduating with Distinction at the end of the year, he was quite possibly the definition of a reclusive writer. He loved the craft, sculpting words like clay or fabric, pinning and shaving and tucking and stretching, to make them evoke the feeling he wanted, and he adored the feeling of an idea slowly spinning and shaping into being like fairy floss on a stick, but he enjoyed doing all of that from the comfort of his own space and he shared his work with his classmates only when it was required. Except for Naruto. Sasuke liked sharing his work with Naruto. 

Eventually, Sasuke's metafiction idea had been workshopped enough that he had filled the margins with notes and Naruto had even scrawled some smiley faces and praise-filled comments in a bright orange gel pen. No matter how he tried to deny it, he knew that he’d be rereading those compliments over and over—Naruto’s praise was just so genuine.

Honestly, Sasuke should have been more nervous around Naruto, more reluctant to share his thoughts, his work. But he wasn't. Naruto saw through the tangle of his mind and understood his ideas. Despite the fact they were, on paper, only acquaintances, the fact that Naruto had read his writing spoke to a much deeper level of understanding and trust than Sasuke had afforded anyone else in his life, even Itachi, his older brother who he idolised and adored. 

That being said, the next question slipped out with no resistance:

“Why were you reading erotica?”

Naruto chuckled, the sound sweet and rich like salted caramel. “You’re so fancy. I just call it smut.”

“Smut then. Why do you read it?”

“Just in general or here, in this library, where cute librarians can find me?” he asked coyly. 

Sasuke didn’t know how to unpack that right now so he just nodded. “Both.”

Naruto leaned forward and rested his chin on one cupped hand. His eyes were fucking gorgeous—had Sasuke mentioned that yet? “I like how it feels,” he said simply. “It gets all buzzy and your stomach kind of curls up and it just feels good, ya know?”

His tone was soft and flirting with raspy, confidential the way all late night talks were, afraid to break the curtain of silence. 

Sasuke quirked an eyebrow. “And you aren’t…” He searched his vocabulary for a tactful way to phrase it. “... visibly affected while you read?”

Naruto didn’t meet his gaze, those blue eyes skittering across the shelves behind Sasuke, the stained glass ceiling. “I mean…I’m not not affected…”

Sasuke snorted and rolled his eyes. “Idiot. Is that your kink? Exhibitionism?”

Naruto laughed, a bright burst of bubbles in the quiet library corner. “Hah! Not one of my kinks unfortunately.” He shot Sasuke a sly grin. “I just like the feeling. People like looking at funny videos and memes to make them smile—I like reading smut because it makes me feel good, kinda tingly, ya know?”

Sasuke wondered what that felt like—had he been reading erotica wrong?

Naruto tilted his head. “You’re looking at me like you don’t feel these things. Are you asexual? Are you a virgin?”

Sasuke shook his head. “No and no. But I’ve read erotica before and it just doesn’t affect me like that. I get too wrapped up in analysing the writing.”

“Gotta turn that writer brain off, eh?” he said with a dazzling smile and a glance at Sasuke’s open notebook.

Sasuke smiled back and the smile came easily—the way it did with Naruto and no one else. “Something like that,” he said. “Educate me. What kind of erotica do you read?”

Naruto blushed, this time lighter, like a splash of watercolour rose on tan cheeks. “Aw, Sasuke. That’s like asking for my kinks, ya know.”

Perhaps it was the late hour. Perhaps it was the intimate vibe of the library. Perhaps it was just something about Naruto, about his golden hair in the soft warm light of the table lamp, broad shoulders cupped by the wings of the armchair, backdropped by the rosewood shelving and the trailing vines. Sitting here, in this timeless library, across the table from Naruto, flirting with something heady and cloying between them like smoke…it didn’t quite feel real. 

And that was emboldening. 

“Tell you what,” Sasuke said to those persuasive blue eyes, lips forming the words and confidence bubbling up behind them, strengthening his tone, “I’ll trade you. You tell me what kind of erotica you read and I’ll answer a question from you.”

“Any question?” Naruto’s sapphire eyes glittered.

Sasuke felt that boldness burning in his chest like a fire and he met Naruto’s gaze like a clash of knives. “Yeah.”

Naruto sat back and linked his hands behind his head, the same confidence sewn through every line of his chest, wide and strong beneath his grey t-shirt. “Deal! Okay, so I read fanfiction—mostly the smutty stuff. It’s usually of my favourite ships from anime, especially Road to Ninja , and it’s usually full of gay sex.” He winked. “If you looked at the tags, you’d probably see a lot of light BDSM and dirty talk.”

Sasuke was shocked at the sudden coil in his stomach, the subtle but undeniable twitch of his cock. Goddammit, Naruto hadn’t even really said anything and Sasuke was already getting turned on.

“Hn,” he said, scrambling for composure. Light BDSM…hmm. “Good to know. Your turn.”

Naruto tapped a finger on his chin, as if thinking dramatically. “Are you gay?”

Sasuke answered easily. “Yes.” Without thinking, he shot back, “Are you?”

Naruto nodded, smile bright. “Yeah, I am. I only figured it out recently though—that I was gay and not bi or pan.” His blue gaze seemed pointed. “I mean, my girlfriend dumped me last year and that kinda made me reevaluate things.”

“Is that why you read gay smut?”

Naruto’s grin turned sly and cheeky. “I like all smut but gay smut is fun because I can imagine myself in it. It’s like porn you can read in public, ya know? Because it’s just words! People have to get really close—” He glared playfully at Sasuke, “—to read it and know what’s happening. But you can get all the graphic visuals in your head and it’s just so good .”

The way Naruto stressed (almost groaned) the last word was not helping Sasuke’s crotch situation at all.

Naruto continued. “My dad—one of them—is a creative writing teacher. You probably won’t have met him, he doesn’t teach at your uni, but he always had me read his work, like his adult stuff when I was old enough, and my godfather’s an actual, like, published erotica author, he goes by Ero Sannin, so like, it’s kind of natural for me to be into this.”

That…explained a lot. Naruto’s flirtiness, his inherent confidence in, or at least awareness of, his own sex appeal, as well as his surprisingly rich knowledge of creative writing.  

“Would you ever write smut like them?” Sasuke asked.

Naruto waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, I’m more of a reader than a writer. Would you ever write it?”

Sasuke smirked, mentally omitting his sad drunk attempt at writing erotica from memory. “Well, I’d have to read a lot of it first, wouldn’t I? Understand the form and the genre and all that.”

Naruto raised his eyebrows. “I could help you with that. I have tons of good recommendations and they’re all free because it’s fanfiction! Or you could read some of my godfather’s stuff but it’s all hetero so I’m not sure if you’d be into that or…”

“I’ll stick with the fanfictions,” Sasuke said. “Hit me. What have you got?”

Naruto started rattling off titles, some raunchy sounding like Down to Fuck, and others softer like you illuminate me, all from a variety of fandoms Sasuke had never heard of, but mostly from the anime Road to Ninja (which Sasuke also had not heard of). 

“Alright, gimme a sec, I gotta find something that makes sense when you don’t know the canon like a modern AU or something...”

It was then that Sasuke pulled his phone out and checked the time. “Shit, it’s past midnight. I have to lock up.”

Naruto’s face looked absolutely crushed and Sasuke, mind whirring, weighed up the consequences of annoying Hiruzen versus the benefits of spending more time with Naruto. 

He made the call. “We can stay…if you want. I’ll just lock up.”

Naruto’s face brightened. “I do want. I’m having fun with you.”

That sent a little flutter through Sasuke’s chest so he simply hn’d, as was his default response, and went to close up—locking the door and turning off all the various floor and table lamps (he would really have to talk to Hiruzen about the impracticality of their lighting arrangements).

It couldn’t just be the late hour that was making Sasuke this…impulsive. Maybe it was Naruto’s openness, maybe it was the vibe, maybe it was because Naruto was fucking sexy and Sasuke hadn't been properly fucked in way too long—he wasn't sure. The only emotions he could firmly pick out of the tangle in his chest were lust and surprise. Naruto, even after seven months, continued to surprise him. In all honesty, he had probably spoken with Naruto more than his actual friends in the last two weeks. Not that he had many. It was really just Itachi (if his brother counted) and Juugo (another writer in his course).  

Following that little pleased feeling, Sasuke, instead of leaving the library in darkness, turned on the little globe fairy lights they used for late night events. Strung between the tops of shelves and through the IKEA vines, the fairy lights filled the space with twinkling fiery light and as Sasuke headed back to their corner, he could hear Naruto’s awed gasp.

He quickly turned to Sasuke. “Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Sasuke shrugged. “There’s no cameras. The boss can’t prove anything.”

“Heh, I like your thinking,” Naruto said around a laugh, ruffling his dandelion blond hair. “If I hung out at the studio after hours, I’d so get fired.”

“Dance studio?” Sasuke asked, immediately picturing Naruto dancing. Was he a hip hop dancer? Contemporary?

“Nah, art studio,” Naruto said lightly. “I teach those like wine and painting classes. It’s pretty fun actually.”

"You're an artist?" Sasuke instantly felt his attraction to Naruto rise. “I’d love to see your work.”

“Hm? Come to my place and I’ll show you. We can have our own wine and painting night.” Naruto's grin was downright saucy, eyebrow quirked lasciviously, and Sasuke was not complaining as much as he should’ve been, getting so blatantly hit on.

He looked away and changed the subject. “Weren’t you going to show me some fanfiction?”

Naruto waved his Kindle. “I'm working on it!” he exclaimed. “Pretty eager, aren't you?”

Sasuke fought his blush. “Shut up, moron.”

“Hey,” Naruto continued blithely, immune to the insult, “have you seen that artsy video series, Hysterical Literature?”

Sasuke remembered seeing those artsy black and white videos of women reading books while a vibrator was held to them beneath the table, out of sight of the camera, leaving only the woman’s face to convey her pleasure. 

“I've seen a couple,” he admitted, tracing the grain of the table with a fingertip. “I like the concept overall. I read one of the woman’s essays and it was quite interesting. It’s a shame there were no guys featured though.”

Naruto chuckled. “Generally guys need a different kind of stimulation. I mean, it’s not like someone can give them a blowjob under the table, ya know?”

Sasuke hn’d, his mind wandering back to those videos, to the pain-pleasure expressions of the people featured in them. If Sasuke were in a video like that, what expressions would his face show? He thought it was fair to be curious—he didn’t exactly watch himself in the mirror when he jerked off.

“Don’t you find it interesting?” Naruto continued. “How people react differently, like visibly differently, to sexual stimulation? Like, some people look like they’re really happy or in pain or shocked but somehow you can always tell it’s pleasure?” His face took on a pensive expression. “Ah, just something to think about.”

Sasuke considered it, took a sip from the simmering tension between them, and spoke. “How do you react?”

Naruto’s eyes flashed at the question and Sasuke hate-loved the shiver that evoked from him. God, Naruto had no right being this hot. 

“I mean,” Naruto started, his hand slowly creeping across the table towards Sasuke, “it’s not something you think about often, right? Normally you think about the other person.”

The tips of Naruto’s fingers, the trimmed nails painted lavender, brushed against the tips of Sasuke’s own black nails.

Their eyes met and Naruto continued. “You think about their reactions and how to make them feel good.”

Slowly—too slowly—Naruto traced up and down Sasuke’s knuckles, caressing each finger, skipping across his bones. Sasuke’s fingers twitched—he wanted to grip Naruto’s hand, to pull him closer, to take more, but, as if sensing it, Naruto’s fingers slid up the back of his hand and circled his wrist lightly, holding, commanding— stay —he seemed to say. 

And Sasuke obeyed.

He let Naruto turn his hand palm up, let him trace and stroke the underside of his fingers, then his palm lines, so much more sensitive than he’d ever realised. When Naruto slid his thumb back and forth along his inner wrist, Sasuke’s eyes fluttered closed, only to awaken to twinkling blue eyes and a coy smile flirting across bitten lips. Despite the innocence of the touch, Naruto’s face, the intensity with which he studied Sasuke, as if he was one of his books, told him there was nothing innocent about it, and that intent, that knowledge, was hot , the idea of being wanted, of Naruto wanting to touch him, to stir him, to evoke a reaction from him. 

With his other hand, Naruto reached for his Kindle. “It’s just us here,” he said softly. “You said you wanted to read good smut.” He tapped on the screen and pushed it towards Sasuke. “Here. This one’s my favourite.”

Sasuke nodded, pulled it closer with his other hand, not wanting to withdraw from Naruto’s touch, when suddenly the blond’s expression changed into something playful yet predatory. 

“Read it aloud,” he said—tone deeper and richer.

Sasuke snapped his eyes up from the screen and tried to ignore how Naruto’s voice, his intense eyes, were making something wild and dangerous coil low in his belly. “Why?” he asked. “Do you just want to see me blush?”

Naruto tilted his head and grinned. “I want to see you do so much more than blush but yes, let’s start there.”

Sasuke’s skin tingled at that. With Naruto’s attention like a heady drug, he looked down at the Kindle and started reading.

Though the writing was not in his style and there were many things he would have phrased more elegantly, he found himself, under Naruto’s attention, enjoying the story and its brash, crude vocabulary. 

“ “Shove over, idiot,” came a smooth baritone…”

Drunk on the attention, he made a show of the reading, dropped his voice and toyed with the sounds in his mouth the way Naruto toyed with his fingers, touch soft and seductive.  

“Charasuke’s cheeks were a little flushed—maybe from alcohol, maybe from the heat of the closet.”

At the end of every sentence, Sasuke would look up and see Naruto enraptured—by him —and that made that tension in Sasuke’s stomach wind tighter. 

“You have a nice voice,” Naruto said in a pause between paragraphs. Then he stood and walked around the back of Sasuke’s chair, peering down at him with those big blue eyes. 

“Keep reading,” he said sharply in that deep tone again. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Sasuke felt the air shift and craned his neck to look up at Naruto.

Naruto hovered above him, looking down on him, shoulders broad and hands braced just behind Sasuke’s shoulder blades on the wings of his chair. From this angle, this position, he looked larger than Sasuke though they were relatively similar in build, dominance clinging to him like armour, and Sasuke subsequently felt smaller but instead of scaring him, it only excited him.

Sasuke knew exactly what he was being offered but Naruto knew it too, his grin fox-like, eyes dark like the ocean.

“Keep reading…” Sasuke began, “until you tell me to stop…or until I can’t continue. Right?”

That sensual heat between them was thick like perfume and both inhaled it like hookah smoke.

“Yeah,” Naruto said quietly, voice brimming with promise. “That’s it. You get it, Sasuke.” Then his eyes softened, the armour fell. “Seriously though, if you want me to stop…”

“I’ll tell you,” Sasuke replied, just as serious.

Naruto nodded once and then the armour snapped back on and his fingertips, those warm tan fingers, settled on Sasuke’s shoulders like butterflies. 

Sasuke followed his instructions—he kept reading. “ Lazily, almost absentmindedly, Menma dropped his hand to Charasuke’s ankle and ran his fingers up the inseam of his jeans, stopping just above his knee. ”

While the fictional characters shared playful touches in a closet, in reality, Naruto’s fingers skimmed Sasuke’s shoulders through the thin material of the red dress shirt, skating the edges of his collar, barely touching him.

“Charasuke smirked and ran a blazing finger along Menma’s shin—right through a rip in his jeans.”

Naruto’s fingers drifted higher, over Sasuke’s neck, his touch still just a ghost across his skin, and Sasuke felt goosebumps form, all his tiny invisible hairs standing up and reaching for Naruto. His breath hitched and he started reading the next line just a beat too slow. 

Naruto's fingers were brushing through the ends of his hair now, past his ears, flirting with his jaw and cheeks under his long sweeping bangs. 

“Charasuke shrugged casually. “You’d probably respond well to edging. So I’d edge you until you were begging me to cum. I’d make a mess out of you.””

Something about reading smut was making him hyper-aware of the sensations in his own body, even though most of his focus was on the words on the screen in front of him. Naruto was barely touching him and yet Sasuke’s skin was humming —waiting for Naruto. 

“Hey Sasuke,” Naruto said, fingers light and feathery on his neck. “Are you sensitive here ?” Naruto suddenly flattened a hand against the side of Sasuke’s neck and dragged it up the column of his throat to gently cup his jaw.

Sasuke swallowed his gasp between words with a strangled gulp and felt his throat move beneath Naruto's touch. He was sensitive, oh he was so sensitive, especially on his neck. In previous encounters, Sasuke had been known to crumble at the barest touch but he wasn't about to admit any of that to Naruto, to give him that information freely when he was already reading Sasuke like an open book.

“No,” Sasuke said lightly, pausing to tap the Kindle and flip the page.

Naruto’s head dropped next to Sasuke’s ear, bringing warmth, a flash of dandelion blond and the scent of summer. 

“Liar,” he breathed next to Sasuke’s ear. “I can see you—your eyes are glazed. I can feel your goosebumps.”

Naruto’s hand slid back down the side of Sasuke’s neck and down his collarbone, toying with his top button while blood rushed to Sasuke’s dick.

“ Dirty talk is— ah —easy when you’re tur—rned on— hah , Men-ma. ” The words fractured in his mouth as Naruto flicked his top button open and dipped his fingers below the neckline of his shirt, touch cool against the flushed skin of his chest.

“I can hear you too, Sas’ke.” The faint slur in Sasuke’s name mimicked his own slurring of the reading and hearing it played back in Naruto’s rasp, in the breath now so close to his neck he could feel its moisture—or maybe that was his own sweat—

“ The way Charasuke dragged out the syllables of his name— ”

Suddenly, Naruto pressed his lips to the side of Sasuke’s neck, warm and soft, just below his ear and Sasuke choked around the remaining words as Naruto burned searing lip prints into his neck.

An audible groan escaped Sasuke and he fought his body’s quivering, fought the aching in his crotch, straining against the seam of his slacks.

Naruto was too fucking good at this, letting his breath dance in and out of the shell of Sasuke's ear, stroking his hair, twisting his fingers in the jagged strands, then slowly switching to the other ear, mixing the airiness of his breath with the moist press of a kiss. 

When Sasuke would masturbate, sometimes he would put on his nice headphones and listen to sexual audios—people dirty talking into his ears with binaural ASMR effects, as if they were physically there, moving from one side to the other. His favourite had always been a male artist named NineTails but he only ever made a handful of tracks. Distantly, in some dusty corner of his mind, he made a note to ask Naruto if he ever made audios like that because his voice, dripping like honey across Sasuke’s ears and neck, couldn’t have been this powerful without practice. 

“‘If you’re turned on,’ Charasuke continued, ‘dirty talk is just saying exactly what you’re thinking.’”

Naruto hummed against his pulse, lips vibrating against his prickled skin. “Mmm, Sasuke…you’re doing so well.”

Sasuke was no stranger to light power play like this but in all his previous experiences, his partner had been rough, displaying dominance through pressure and pain and usually, Sasuke would come home with a necklace of hickeys or some other kind of bondage marks—that he thoroughly enjoyed receiving, of course. 

But Naruto…Naruto was gentle, oh, he was so gentle. Those light fingers and soft kisses and playful praise. And yet. There was something to the decisiveness of his touch, the purposeful restraint to touch Sasuke so gently, that was undeniably dominant and it made Sasuke want to surrender.

Naruto moved around to Sasuke’s left, into the adjacent chair. His large, warm hand cupped the back of his neck and Sasuke unconsciously relaxed his head back into it, into the cradle of Naruto’s palm. 

“That’s it, Sasuke,” Naruto murmured. “Keep going.”

“All Charasuke had done was touch his fucking ankle and say some dirty words and here Menma was, burning up like a birthday candle and melting into the closet floor.”

Sasuke was melting too, his upper body turning liquid and pliable all while his cock stiffened and he shifted his hips against the discomfort. 

“Good, Sasuke,” Naruto crooned, gently massaging the back of his neck. “God, you look so hot like this.”

Sasuke tore his eyes away from the words to see Naruto watching him with that voracious intensity again, this time undercut by hunger, and the contrast between that blazing visual and the gentleness of his touch made Sasuke whine in the back of his throat. 

How did Naruto know just how to dominate Sasuke?

“I’d watch a video of you like this—you react so beautifully.”

Sasuke fought to keep reading, his mind slowly slipping. His breath was just shy of a pant, his fingers were tight around the Kindle, nails scraping against the wood of the table. With one light scrape of Naruto’s teeth, he was coiling like a spring, and at the next tender lick he was melting—coiling, melting, tensing, yielding, all in quick succession.

Sasuke had never begged before, even at his most submissive, and he definitely wasn’t going to beg now but the thing was, he didn’t need to because Naruto was already giving him everything he needed. 

“Your skin is getting hotter, Sasuke,” Naruto said silkily. “You look so pretty blushing for me.”

Pretty…Sasuke had always been considered pretty as opposed to handsome but god, he’d never felt more masculine and gorgeous than he did under Naruto’s control.

“Menma— haah —didn’t know who lunged in first… ah, fuck —but suddenly, he was kissing Charasuke.”

Not only could Sasuke feel himself reacting to Naruto—to the silk of his touch and the sensuality of his presence set against the crude raunchiness on the page—he could hear himself reacting too, in the skip and slur of simple syllables in response to a long slow lick up his neck or against his earlobe, the catch of a tongue against his earring. 

“If only you could see yourself, Sasuke. The things I could do with a mirror…”

Sasuke moaned into the next sentence. “Cha— aah —Charasuke’s hands were fisted—in—in Menma’s shirt while his l—lips and tongue fought with his.”

Sasuke wanted to move in tandem with the character—he wanted to kiss Naruto. He turned his head, seeking, aching, but Naruto was quick and danced away.

“Keep reading,” he said slyly. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sasuke saw Naruto sink to his knees and shuffle beneath the table.

Oh god, was this really happening? He thought back to Naruto’s offhand comment about Hysterical Literature:

it's not like someone can give them a blowjob under the table, ya know?

In the gap between the table and Sasuke’s knees, Naruto’s eyes met his, serious again. “Is  this okay?”

Sasuke sobered up and nodded eagerly and Naruto laughed like bubbles popping. Sasuke wanted to laugh too, laugh at the sheer incredulity of it all, but Naruto’s fingers were undoing Sasuke’s belt and unzipping his fly and now that feathery touch was back, ghosting over the outline of his erection against his boxers, then stretching the boxers over and down to free his cock, all while denying him the sweet friction he ached for.

“Why did you stop reading, Sasuke?” Naruto said, his lips just a breath from Sasuke’s cock, weeping and glittering in the fairy lights. “Did I say you could?”

Sasuke grit his teeth and fought for breath and muttered, “Cruel,” under his breath but all Naruto said was, “Don’t lie, Sasuke. You love this.” 

The sibilance of his name on Naruto’s lips skipped soft air across Sasuke’s dripping head and he moaned because Naruto’s observation was true—he did love this. 

Sasuke tried to pick up reading from where he left off but Naruto’s tongue—god, his tongue —was flicking against his slit, collecting the gathered precum and Sasuke’s vision blurred.

“Charasuke tugged—” He gasped. “Charasuke tugged—” Again. “Charasuke tugged—on his hair again, bringing— ah —bringing—bringing Menma closer to his dick. “Mmm, it’ll feel even better in your mo—outh, you know. It really fills— mm, fuck —you up, I can even make you gag on it a little—”

And then Sasuke realised why Naruto had chosen this particular fanfiction.

It was centred around a blowjob.

Oh, Naruto was a fucking evil little goblin and Sasuke wanted his mouth on him so badly but all he could do was wait, obey, take the pleasure Naruto chose to give him, be good . 

“He dove—dove do—own and pressed his lips— ah, that’s so good —against the head of Charasuke’s cock—” He spoke through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to thrust up into Naruto’s mouth, “— oh god, so smooth, so wet, so squishy—and let it part his lips and slide inside— fuck, Naruto! ”

As Sasuke read the words, Naruto acted them out and the heat of Naruto’s lips around him, wrapped around his cock so sinfully when they’d never even kissed before, had Sasuke bracing his elbows on the table and panting wildly. 

At this point, the words were barely coherent, his imagining of the fiction colliding with the sensations and submission of reality and Naruto’s pace on his cock stayed slow and gentle—always gentle—gradually bobbing lower and lower on Sasuke's cock until he was nearly at the hilt. He scrabbled mentally for his control but it slipped from him—slick and slippery like Naruto’s saliva dripping down his shaft and over Naruto’s chin—glistening in the light—

Sasuke looked down and seeing Naruto between his legs—lips red and stretched around his cock, his tongue working sinfully on the sensitive underside while his blue eyes glittered up all mischievous blue innocence—it splintered his mind.

“G—God, his mouth was so fucking full— Naruto —and the knowledge that he couldn’t speak because he was gagging— Naruto —on Charasuke’s cock— fuck! —made him moan around it, the vibrations drawing a soft— ah, hahh— gasp from Charasuke.”

Sasuke knew that he could stop reading at any time, could simply let go and relax into the glorious blowjob Naruto was blessing him with and he would probably continue because Naruto was nice and kind and pretty and golden and despite his earlier threats, he wouldn't leave Sasuke hard and aching. But the thing was Sasuke didn’t want to stop. Even though his face was burning and he could barely keep his focus on the page, his body shaking with the struggle not to cum, Naruto’s quiet hums of approval around his cock made him want to impress him, to please him, and—eventually, when Sasuke really, truly couldn’t take it anymore—to fall apart for him. He wanted to feel himself fracture around the words he was desperately trying to pronounce, he wanted to hear himself break, he wanted to feel Naruto press him between fiction and reality and shatter him. Even though Naruto was just gently blowing him, the mental control he exerted—the build-up, the tease, the tone of his voice, the gentleness of his touch—he felt just as dominated as when he was pinned down and tied up and edged—all bowing, aching, desperate wanting, where his mind was nothing but haze. 

God, submission was fucking torture and it was delicious and Sasuke fucking loved it. 

Naruto was moving faster now, his hand was wet with spit and twisting around the base of his cock, brushing his balls—Sasuke felt the head of his cock hit the back of Naruto’s throat, that tightening—

“Naruto—fuck, Naruto, I’m—” he warned but Naruto didn’t stop, he already knew, he’d been reading Sasuke this whole time.

Sasuke trembled, he shook, he whimpered (actually fucking whimpered)—and he spilled into Naruto’s warm mouth with a soft cry, slumping cheek-first onto the Kindle. The aftershocks wracked him with shivers, effervescent prickles up and down his spine, and a feeling of being pleasantly wrecked. 

He heard a gulp of Naruto swallowed down his load and then his hands, those magical hands, were rubbing up and down Sasuke’s thighs comfortingly. 

All Sasuke could do was laugh, the inconsistent press of his cheek against the Kindle screen making the pages skip wildly, the stained glass ceiling a blur of dark jewel tones in his periphery. Distantly, Sasuke felt Naruto wiping his soft cock and tucking him back in, refastening his belt with care not to overstimulate.

Then Naruto’s golden head nudged at Sasuke’s knee with a kiss and Sasuke finally straightened and looked down, only to fall into the ocean blue again.

“You alright?” Naruto asked.

Sasuke just continued to laugh, reaching down to grip Naruto’s hand and squeeze to release the excess tension from his orgasm.

Naruto squeezed back, then clambered out from under the table to kneel beside Sasuke, brushing his dark sweaty bangs off his face. “You did so well, Sasuke,” he said with a kind smile and a brush of his cheek.

Sasuke closed his eyes and leaned into Naruto’s touch, still resurfacing. Patiently, Naruto continued to praise him, to stroke his hair, his hands, just as gentle as before but with different intent. Sasuke rested his head in Naruto’s palm and felt fluffy and sexually cared for in a way he never had before.

At some point, Naruto swiped the Kindle from the table and giggled. 

“You didn't even get through half,” he teased lightly. 

Sasuke groaned into his folded arms and mumbled, “Shut up, usuratonkachi,” but he knew that no matter how he tried to hide, Naruto could see his dazed smile. 

“You're so sensitive, so good, god, Sasuke, you're amazing,” Naruto blurted out and Sasuke felt that genuine praise settle over him like a warm blanket. 

After what felt like blissful hours, Naruto stood, chugging from his bottle of water and stretching his arms above his head. His cock looked semi-hard, a bulge against the seam of his black sweatpants. 

Sasuke eyed it, lips parted, and sent Naruto a questioning look.

Naruto looked down, laughed, and then simply shrugged. “Eh, don’t worry about me. It was so worth it to see you like that. To be honest, I’ll probably be jerking off to that for months.”

Sasuke stood, pushing the chair back with a screech. “What if you didn’t need to jerk off to that?” he asked, quiet but serious. “What if…” he was confident, he was bold, the way he always was after a proper session of submission, “...what if you had the real thing?”

Naruto’s gaze was electric and the heat between them thickened the air. Sasuke stepped right into Naruto’s space, into the scent of cum and citrus. They were the same height, but Naruto’s chunky sneakers gave him just an inch on Sasuke. 

His eyes softened. “Do you actually want that, Sasuke?” he asked. “I don’t want you doing anything because you feel like you owe me or something stupid like that, ya know?”

Sasuke stepped forward again and turned so that Naruto’s hips—his cock—were sandwiched between Sasuke’s hips and the table, bracing his hands on either side.

“Naruto,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded. “I want you inside me so fucking badly.”

Naruto’s eyes darkened like a stormy sea but his smile was bright like sunshine and yet when they finally kissed, Sasuke was swept away. 

~ ~ ~

It turned out that Naruto lived at the student dorms a few streets from the library, in a suite with a common room and four bedrooms. As it was past 1am at this point, they slipped through the suite in silence, Naruto holding his hand as they stepped over the wires from the retro games console, gripping him by the waist to guide him around the narrow hallways.

It was like he couldn’t stop touching Sasuke. To be fair, Sasuke couldn’t stop touching Naruto either—he twisted his fingers in the hem of his t-shirt, around the bones of his wrist, pressed his body along the lines of his whenever they could on their walk—or more dazed stumble—to Naruto’s room. 

Naruto’s bedroom was sandwiched between two other bedrooms and was cramped in the way that all student dorms were. Distantly, Sasuke registered an orange bedspread and painted canvases covering every available inch of wall space and he was just about to open his mouth to comment on it—because fuck, that’s right, Naruto was an artist and that was hot—when Naruto spun Sasuke around and pressed him back against the closed door, one large hand covering his mouth lightly.

Naruto leaned close, filling Sasuke’s nostrils with that summertime scent again. “Sasuke…” he whispered, barely audible. “You have to promise to be quiet. My roommates are on both sides of us. Can you promise that?”

Sasuke pulled Naruto’s hand away from his mouth and leaned forward into him, lips just brushing his ear. 

“Can you keep that same promise, Na-ru-to?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet, which unintentionally made it low and sultry. “Can you be quiet when you’re inside me—”

Naruto made a choking noise in his throat and turned his head into Sasuke’s neck to muffle the sound. 

Sasuke chased his ear. “—when you’re fucking that thick cock inside me?”

Naruto’s mouth opened in a silent gasp and Sasuke slid his hands down Naruto’s chest, the muscle beneath his grey t-shirt and snapped the band of his sweatpants, the slap of elastic loud in the quiet room. 

Instead of talking, Naruto simply grabbed Sasuke’s hands and pushed them both to his cock, rapidly stiffening and tenting the sweatpants.

“Fuck,” he breathed into Sasuke’s neck. “Fuck, it’s all yours, Sasuke. I’m all yours. Please…”

Wasn’t it funny that Naruto, with all his dominance, had no trouble begging? Sasuke found himself sinking to his knees (maybe Naruto could face fuck him—quietly—against the bedroom door) but he was soon roughly dragged back to his feet and turned back towards the bed. 

“You don’t kneel for me, Sasuke,” Naruto hissed. “I kneel for you.”

And then he did just that, pressing Sasuke back into the bed and kneeling at the edge of it, until they were back to how they were in the library—Sasuke seated and Naruto looking up cheekily from between his knees.

God, that gorgeous, gentle idiot.

“Get up here,” Sasuke mumbled and fisted a hand in Naruto’s golden hair, dragging him up onto the bed and over him and then they were making out. Naruto’s weight, his breadth, over him was drugging to that submissive side of Sasuke, the part that loved to give in, to lose control, but Naruto’s lips were soft and compliant, happy to let Sasuke part them with his tongue, to take and taste and tease. Naruto’s fingers were question marks at the buttons of his shirt and Sasuke answered each one with an enthusiastic exclamation point, first shirts, then pants, until they were down to nothing but boxers, Naruto’s tanned chest hot and flushed against him and hands writing invisible poems on every possible expanse of skin.

The creak of the bed, the gasp between kisses, the rustle of their clothes, the slick of their tongues—all were deafeningly loud in the silent room but Sasuke barely registered it. Sasuke was a blank page of thirsty parchment and Naruto was ink—he wanted to absorb him and be stained in him forever.

The sound of Naruto’s bedroom drawer cut through the reverie—as did the click of the lube bottle’s cap opening.

Naruto wrote his second question along the waist of Sasuke’s boxers, his eyes dark starry-night navy in the low light and Sasuke reached for Naruto’s boxers and they answered the question together, cocks springing free to seek each other—hard velvet warmth against his own that made Sasuke’s hole clench.

Fuck, Naruto was thick and Sasuke couldn’t wait to split himself apart on him, to shatter around him over and over. 

Sasuke lifted a leg, spreading himself for Naruto and watched Naruto’s wild eyes and hungry bitten lips rove across the pretty, sinful picture he made, spread open and inviting.

Bite me, he asked with his body.

The lube was body temperature against Sasuke’s puckered hole—Naruto must have warmed it in his fingers first—and there was that touch again, gentle, so gentle, but almost quivering with restraint.

Why was that so hot? The fact that Naruto could easily take him, throw him around, use him, but he chose to touch him slow and purposeful and gentle ?

He squirmed against Naruto’s fingers and Naruto drew himself back up Sasuke’s body until he was close enough to whisper.

“I’d like to gag you,” Naruto whispered against his jaw and Sasuke gritted his teeth around his moan, against the wave of arousal that hit him, “but I think you can be quiet without it. Can you?”

Fuck, it was another challenge, just like the Hysterial Literature style reading. Another opportunity to test his control, to submit to Naruto, to push his limits and see just how long he could hold out.

Sasuke raised his chin and looked Naruto in the eyes—channelling defiance, arrogance, acceptance—and Naruto nodded and kissed him chastely. 

“Good,” he whispered, gently guiding Sasuke’s hands above his head, as if tied together at the wrists to some imaginary post. “Keep your hands there. I’m not going to tie you but if you move them…”

“You’ll stop,” Sasuke finished, familiar with their game now.

Naruto’s face held sparkling fondness. “Yeah…you get it.” His tone was soft, almost reverent.

“And if I want to stop?” Sasuke asked—though he didn't think he’d want to, it was always good to be safe. 

“Just tell me,” Naruto said with soft eyes.

Sasuke nodded. 

And then Sasuke’s control was tested, and tested, over and over—first with one finger, gently (always gently) probing his entrance, slipping in only when Sasuke was well relaxed and begging with his body (never his words) in frantic cants of his hips—and then with two fingers, stretching him open and scissoring them until Sasuke’s perception narrowed to nothing except Naruto’s deft fingers, the heady powerlessness of being penetrated, and above all, the focus it took to keep all the filthy sound inside his bitten lips, to keep his hands up and away when they twitched and clenched and wanted to touch Naruto, to touch his own cock, his nipples—

But he stayed. He obeyed. Because it was beautiful, and Sasuke felt beautiful, being controlled by nothing but Naruto’s will, held down by intangible words as if they were physical restraints. 

Without disrupting the rhythm of his fingers, Naruto pressed his lips back to Sasuke’s ear. “Is this enough for you, Sasuke? Hm? Tell me what you want, what you like.”

Sasuke swallowed his gasp and with Naruto’s permission, he spilled his aching whispers into Naruto’s golden hair—the idiot said he was into dirty talk, right?

“Curl your fingers up more—” he breathed, hoping Naruto would feel it more than hear it. “Just a bit—ah, a bit deeper—fuck, there , Naruto, Naruto, fuck , fuck me with your fingers like you will with your cock, Naruto, yes, there , I want your cock, I want you to fuck me,  fuck —”

“Quiet, Sasuke,” Naruto murmured, steel and control laced through his tone and Sasuke felt that invisible gag and rope again and trembled.

“That's it,” Naruto breathed soothingly as Sasuke turned pliant again. “Feel good?”

Sasuke blinked up at Naruto with foggy eyes and nodded and Naruto, such an attentive reader when it came to Sasuke's pleasure, fucked his fingers into him just the way he asked, hitting his prostate on every stroke, unravelling Sasuke from the inside out. 

And oh—it was beautiful hearing Naruto crumble too, feeling his fingers tense with the restraint of his slow pace, hearing him hiss quiet curses into Sasuke’s shoulder as if he was the one being dominated. 

“Sas—Sas’ke…I want…I want to feel your ass around me—fuck—please…I want to be inside you, you’re so tight, I’m all yours, please Sasuke…”

He was asking for permission. Even with Sasuke in a state where Naruto could take anything he wished, Naruto asked.

And so Sasuke answered.

“Then take it, Naruto,” Sasuke breathed back, pitch lower than ever. “Take me. Fuck me. Fill me.”

Naruto’s whimper crackled along Sasuke’s collarbone like lightning. He didn't need a second invitation, not this time. There came the bedside drawer again, then the crinkle of cardboard and the foil of a condom wrapper, the click of the lube cap, and then, oh god, the sinful slick of lube on Naruto’s cock. 

When Naruto poised his cock at his entrance, Sasuke twitched, he bit back his groan, but he didn’t move his hands from above his head, didn’t moan and cry like he wanted to. Naruto’s eyes met his and there was playfulness there, the unspoken knowledge that Naruto could happily sit here, teasing Sasuke, playing with him until he shattered, until Sasuke was so desperate he broke those invisible restraints and grabbed Naruto’s hips and fucked himself on his cock, swearing and moaning until it echoed around the whole suite.

It was electrifying being under that kind of carefully leashed power. 

But Naruto took mercy on him and gently—always gently—slid inside Sasuke, the sound wet and slick and Sasuke watched as Naruto’s thick cock disappeared inside him, felt that growing pressure and fullness, the sensation of being stuffed to the brim with hard velvet heat, of his body submitting and bending and opening to accommodate Naruto in a way that was so deeply gratifying and fulfilling a way he couldn’t articulate. 

Once he was fully seated and Sasuke felt the light brush of Naruto’s balls against his ass cheeks, felt his cockhead settle in what felt like his stomach, Naruto curled his upper body down over Sasuke and whispered,

“Hey.” Sasuke relished in how breathless he sounded. “You okay?”

Sasuke stared up into midnight blue, into long golden eyelashes and soft cheeks and parted lips and nodded, gently squeezing around Naruto just to watch those lashes flutter down like dust motes in sunbeams.

When Naruto slid out, he did so painfully slowly, inch by torturous inch. 

Sasuke held his breath.

Then Naruto slammed back in with force and Sasuke couldn’t suppress the rather loud  sob that escaped him at the flicker of Naruto’s feral strength that shimmered just beneath the surface of his tanned skin. 

Naruto’s eyes flashed in the dark. “Mm, quiet, Sasuke,” he murmured into Sasuke’s bared throat, softly scraping his teeth against the skin, not enough to bruise or mark. “Good to know you like it a little rough though.”

Another thrust, another—slow, bruising, heavy—and somewhere in between, Naruto touched the backs of Sasuke’s knees to bend his legs up and fold him in half, using gravity to drive down into him. Under the light slap of Naruto’s balls against his ass, the bassy thud of his cockhead inside him, the unpredictable friction of his own cock against his stomach, the weight of Naruto, the pressure of fullness, the dominance—still gentle—Sasuke was gone and his body just fucking begged .

He bucked up into Naruto, arched so that their chests could press and lightly stick with sweat, used his legs hooked up over Naruto’s shoulders to fuck himself up into that gorgeous cock and all the while, he kept quiet, kept his hands above his head, and took, watching that ferality play across Naruto’s face and through the lines of his muscles as he fucked him deep.

Still gentle. Always gentle.

Sasuke wanted more. He was already drunk on soft, gentle, praising Naruto—he wanted to get utterly wasted on rough, vicious, feral Naruto.  

Through gritted teeth, he bit out, “Stop holding back, Naruto.” 

It was almost a growl and the responding flash of Naruto’s eyes, almost red, made Sasuke’s hole clench and dick twitch.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Sasuke,” Naruto breathed back.

“You won’t,” he promised and their eyes met, Naruto’s day to Sasuke’s midnight and there was unmistakable trust in there—the trust that came with months of intimacy, not one night.

But before Sasuke could process the gravity of that gaze, Naruto grinned at him, blinding and excited with just a whisper of carnality, squeezed Sasuke’s thighs, and pulled out, flipping him onto his hands and knees.

“I thought I didn’t kneel for you,” Sasuke murmured almost absent-mindedly.

Naruto’s hands gripped his ass and spread his cheeks roughly. “You do now,” he growled right in Sasuke’s ear.

Sasuke swallowed his whimper and felt Naruto chuckle behind him. One of Naruto’s hands fell to his hip, bracing him, and the other was gently—still gently—gripping the back of his neck, guiding his upper body down into the pillow.

“Bite on that,” Naruto instructed, then with his other hand, he brought one of Sasuke’s hands, hanging limply by his side, to Naruto’s knee. “Pinch me if you want to stop.”

And that was all the warning Sasuke got before Naruto proceeded to rail his soul out of him. Naruto’s thrusts were absolutely wicked, bruising and fast and still so deep, and all Sasuke could do was bite into the pillow and drool all over it, gagging his mewls and moans and gasps while his ass got beautifully, magnificently wrecked. Pressed down into the pillow by the back of his neck, Sasuke’s own cock was trapped between his stomach and the mattress, painting the bedsheets with wet lines of precum, adding new brushstrokes with every one of Naruto’s thrusts shaking his entire body.

Still pounding into him, Naruto grabbed one of Sasuke’s hands and pulled it to his own dripping cock and Sasuke cried out into the pillow because that was too much, he was already so close to cumming, but he just bit down on the pillow and trusted Naruto, submitted to him and began to stroke. The hand at the back of Sasuke’s neck curled softly into his hair and gently raised him up until he was arched up and back against Naruto, spine bowed, neck exposed and god, Sasuke felt so fucking hot like that—one of his hands braced against the wall to push himself back into Naruto’s thrusts, the other curled around his cock, gliding across it, tiny moans spilling out as his control fractured under the assault of stimuli.

“Sa–Sasuke—” Naruto moaned into his hair, sounding just as broken as Sasuke felt.

He slowed his thrusts to run his hand across Sasuke’s exposed front, to toy with his nipples, clapping that same hand over Sasuke’s mouth when a high pitched yelp escaped, piercing amongst their quiet panting.

Naruto wasn’t complaining though, was grunting into Sasuke’s shoulder. “So loud…so beautiful,” he mumbled as he shifted the angle of his hips, searching for Sasuke’s prostate, hand still pressed over Sasuke’s mouth.

The drool that previously coated the pillow was now spilling over Naruto’s hand, making it slick against his parted lips.

Naruto let out a quiet laugh that made Sasuke feel warm right down to his belly. “You like this, Sasuke,” he whispered, awestruck. “You like being dominated by me, hm?”

Sasuke nodded enthusiastically against Naruto’s hand, playfully darting his tongue out against the salty skin and lightly biting the meat of his palm.

There was something about submission in general—the paradox of feeling powerful while surrendering power, of safe helplessness, of sharpening his arousal to the point of aching, piercing, craving—but there was something different about submitting to Naruto specifically, to his goldenness, to his softness, to his juxtaposition of rough and gentle and the way he reacted to Sasuke, as if Sasuke was the one in control of him…

He groaned into Naruto’s palm at the pressure of his cock on his prostate, the steadily growing rhythm of their thrusts—he gasped away from Naruto’s hand—

“There, Naruto, oh, Naruto, fuck, there, pl—”

Naruto tangled both hands in Sasuke’s hair, not bothering to re-cover his mouth. “Almost begged for me there, hey, Sasuke?”

“Shut the fuck up—Naruto, fuck—”

After so long of silence, their dirty words were rough and loud, as was the slap of Naruto’s hips against his ass, the wet strokes of Sasuke’s fist around his cock as he teetered on that knife’s edge, that delicious peak of pleasure where everything was so much, too much, yet not enough—not enough to break him—don’t break yet—

“ Sasuke ,” Naruto trilled in his ear, voice like honey.

Sasuke trembled and his hole fluttered around Naruto—that rich sweet raspy voice resonating through and over his arched body—he was a tuning fork for Naruto and Naruto alone—

“Can you be good and cum for me?”

It was a question but it wasn’t—under Naruto’s gentle dominance, his purposeful fingers, his thick cock, it was a command and Sasuke was powerless but to obey, to cry out into the air, to shatter apart and spill into his own fist, sticky and glorious and searing and hot. Naruto held him through the shudder, fucked him through it brutally, perfectly, deeply, just the way Sasuke liked, until he finally came inside him with a shattered, crystalline gasp, filled with so much pleasure and euphoria that Sasuke nearly came again just at the sound.

For a moment, they stayed there, Naruto curled around Sasuke, holding him up, both shuddering and breathing in sync, until Naruto rolled them onto their sides, away from Sasuke’s mess and spooned him, still tucked away inside him. 

Sasuke sighed. He felt freshly fucked out, soft and fluffy and tired, mentally spent but above all—comfortable. 

They stayed like that for a while longer, until Naruto softened and slipped out and went to clean up, handing Sasuke his bottle of water, wiping him off gently and pulling the blanket over them.

It smelled like Naruto and that made Sasuke feel so very cosy, especially with Naruto’s chest warm and soft at his back. 

“Did we wake up your roommates?” Sasuke whispered, just barely audible.

Naruto laughed and this time it was higher, like bubbles again and it tickled Sasuke’s neck. “Probably, yeah. We got loud near the end there.”

“Sorry,” Sasuke mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Naruto murmured back, his breath brushing over his neck and ear. “It’s so fucking hot trying to watch you be quiet.”

“Hn. Maybe you have a kink for that.”

“I think I have a kink for you.”

Oh. 

“Did you ever make dirty audios?” The question just slipped out.

Naruto’s voice dropped to an evil, dirty slur. “Now what brought that to mind, Sas’ke?”

That voice—Sasuke shivered and clenched all while Naruto just ran his nails up and down Sasuke’s ribs all delighted and giggly.

“For real though, I did make a couple a few years back. My username was NineTails.”

Sasuke’s jaw dropped. “Shut up. You’re lying.”

Naruto huffed indignantly. “I’m not lying! I can show you—” He immediately started floundering for his phone, tucked somewhere in his sweatpants that were now on the floor.

Sasuke groaned, internally cursing and swearing. “I knew I wasn’t imagining it.”

Naruto turned back from his search. “No way. You actually listened to them? To my voice?”

“Yeah,” Sasuke said and something about the fluffy feeling in his chest had him admitting more. “NineTails was my favourite.”

“Fucking hell,” Naruto said, rolling Sasuke onto his back so he was staring up into the cornflower blue again. “Sasuke—that’s—wow.” He rubbed at his messy golden hair nervously. “That’s so awkward but so flattering, ya know? Like, I got you off—”

“I didn’t say I got off to them.”

“—but you did, don’t lie, Sasuke,” Naruto said with a teasing look. “I got you off with my voice before I even knew you. And now we fuck.”

“Present tense? Not past?”

“I want it to be present. And future.”

Sasuke just hn’d happily as Naruto laced his fingers into his.

“You have the real thing now,” Naruto whispered. “My voice, my body, it’s all yours, Sasuke. If you want it. I’ve had a crush on you since the first time I came to the library.”

Under Naruto’s earnestness, his golden boy ‘Chosen One’ honesty, his post-sex flush reminiscent of a debauched prince, Sasuke melted. 

“I…” he struggled for the words, for the right words to describe just how consumed he was by this beautiful idiot. Sasuke had never stayed the night with a lover before, had never been in a relationship or had sex with the same person twice. 

But now, between one breath and the next, he said: “I…want to stay.”

And he watched Naruto’s face light up, the same way it lit up when he read Sasuke’s writing, and Sasuke knew Naruto understood him, understood the way he liked to obfuscate and bury his meanings.

Naruto gently—forever gentle—rested his head on Sasuke’s chest and curled his arms tight around him.

“Okay, so,” he started, breath dancing across his chest, “what’s your opinion on waffles?”