Sasuke tries not to think about how easily this night could collapse into old patterns. It feels too familiar, too close to the night he never stopped regretting. Like the world is circling back on itself, forcing him to retrace steps he thought he had left behind.
He had believed, after speaking honestly with Sakura, after mending things with Sarada, that he could take the next step. That he could face Naruto without falling apart. Yet here he is, drunk, stumbling through the dark beside him, and everything feels fragile again.
He is drunk, and the world is spinning.
He is not sure how they got here, or where the night is leading them. He is not sure where they're headed, or what he's feeling.
Naruto is flushed and laughing softly at nothing, his hair sticking up in wild directions, his eyes warm and unfocused. He looks unguarded, almost too open, and Sasuke's chest twists with something he refuses to name. The sight should comfort him, but it only makes him uneasy. He remembers all too well what happens when he lets his guard drop around Naruto.
They'd ordered the most potent drinks the bar had to offer, and the alcohol has numbed his senses. The world is a haze, and his thoughts are jumbled, and he knows that nothing good will come of tonight.
"How are you getting home?" Sasuke asks, and his mouth is dry.
"Walking, probably," Naruto replies, and the words are slurred. "Need to sober up, first."
"I'll walk with you," Sasuke says.
"No need," Naruto protests.
"Shut up, Naruto."
The words are firm, and brook no argument.
The silence that follows feels weighted, as though they are balancing on the edge of something neither of them wants to acknowledge. Sasuke asks again if he is ready to leave, and Naruto hums his agreement. Sasuke rises, steadier than he expects, though the ground tilts beneath him. Naruto giggles, the sound light and ridiculous, and Sasuke's patience strains.
"You're just as drunk as I am," he mutters.
"Probably," Naruto says, and the laughter is clear in his voice.
"Let's go," Sasuke repeats, and he reaches for his wallet.
"Wait, let me pay," Naruto says, and he is fumbling, trying to get his credit card out of his wallet.
"I've got it," Sasuke says, gently. "Come on."
Naruto looks at him, and his eyes are wide, and uncertain.
"Thanks," he murmurs, and the word is a whisper.
Sasuke pays the bill, and they leave the bar.
"You good to go home?" Sasuke asks as they step out into the night.
Naruto huffs, shifting his weight like he's not sure how steady he is. "Yeah. West side."
"I know," Sasuke says. His voice is quiet. "I'll walk you."
Outside, the air is thick and warm. The streets are mostly empty, their footsteps echoing against the pavement. The sound is too loud, too exposed, and every echo reminds Sasuke of how unsteady this ground is. He cannot shake the sense that they are replaying a memory, one that never stops haunting him.
Naruto walks beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost brush. It takes all of Sasuke's restraint not to lean away. He is afraid that if he moves too far, Naruto will notice the space he has created, and if he stays too close, he will give himself away.
The night feels like a test he is failing. He had imagined that once he faced his past with Sakura, once he looked his daughter in the eye and stopped running, he would be ready to face the person he had avoided the longest.
But standing next to Naruto now, hearing his uneven breaths and feeling the heat rolling off his body, Sasuke realizes he has no idea what he is doing. He is just as lost as before. He had told himself this would be different, but the alcohol blurs everything, and Naruto's presence makes it worse.
They are passing through a narrow alley, a shortcut back to the main road, and the space is small, and quiet. Sasuke can hear their breaths, and his own heartbeat, and his nerves are on edge.
Naruto stops.
"I have a confession to make," he whispers.
The sudden absence of motion claws at Sasuke' nerves. He turns, slowly, afraid of what he will see, and the look in Naruto's eyes is a blade shoved deep into his chest.
"Naruto," he warns.
"You asked why I'm here," Naruto says, and his voice is rough.
"Don't."
"No, I need to say this."
"Don't."
"I'm here because I needed to see you. I'm here because I— Because I—"
"Naruto, please," Sasuke begs, and the sound is a broken gasp.
"I'm here because I love you," Naruto says. His eyes shine with tears that spill down his cheeks, and the words land like thunder, tearing the ground out from under Sasuke.
Sasuke freezes. The roar in his ears is deafening. His body is a storm of panic and fury and longing, every nerve screaming at once. He wants to run, to hit something, to destroy the moment before it can destroy him. He cannot breathe.
"I know it's selfish," Naruto continues. He is crying, openly now, his chest heaving. "I know I shouldn't be here, saying these things, but I can't help it. I love you. I've always loved you. I never stopped, not even when you told me to stay away, and I—"
"Stop," Sasuke croaks, but it is useless.
"And I'm sorry, okay?" Naruto rushes out, his words tumbling, desperate. "I'm sorry, and I don't want to hurt you, but I can't stop. I can't stop loving you, and wanting you, and needing you, and—"
"Fuck," Sasuke hisses, the word torn from his chest. He shoves Naruto hard, and the blond stumbles back into the wall, the sound of impact ricocheting down the alley.
"I hate you," Sasuke snarls. His voice is guttural, raw, dredged up from years of burying everything he never let himself feel. "I fucking hate you, and everything you stand for."
"I know," Naruto says, his voice soft, his eyes unbearably gentle.
The answer twists a knife in Sasuke's chest. He wants to hit him, to shake him, to break apart the look of pity and sorrow in those blue eyes. He wants to scream until his voice gives out. He wants to fall to his knees. He wants to kiss him.
"You're so fucking stupid," Sasuke spits, his throat burning.
"I know."
"This is a bad idea," Sasuke says, his words quick and jagged, his breath shallow. "The worst idea. Everything about this is wrong."
"I know."
"Stop agreeing with me," Sasuke snaps. His pulse hammers so hard he can hear it in his skull.
"Sorry."
He closes his eyes, trying to shut out the sight of him, trying to claw back control. But Naruto is everywhere. In the rasp of his voice, in the smell of rain and alcohol clinging to his clothes, in the unbearable warmth radiating from his body. Sasuke trembles, every muscle locked, and the air feels suffocating.
"We shouldn't be here," he whispers, and the words feel like a plea.
"You're right."
He opens his eyes again, and finds Naruto watching him, tears tracking his cheeks, lips parted, waiting. The sight breaks something in him, splinters it beyond repair.
"I hate you," Sasuke chokes out, and this time it is not anger but grief, a strangled sob disguised as venom.
"Yeah," Naruto says, and the quiet sadness in his voice is unbearable.
Sasuke lunges forward, and the movement is rough, and unsteady, and Naruto catches him. His arms wrap around him, and his palms are hot against his back.
"It's okay," Naruto whispers, and the words are soft, warm, and soothing. "You're okay."
Sasuke is trembling. He wants to tear himself away, but he is frozen, held by the arms that hold him. He presses his face into Naruto's neck, breathing him in, and the smell is achingly familiar. The weight of his body is steady, and safe, and warm, and Sasuke hates it, and craves it, and needs it, and—
He cannot stand another moment of this, of the impossible tension between them. He is falling apart, and he cannot stop. He needs something to change. He needs the world to crack, to shift, to give.
Sasuke leans back, just enough to see the face of the man who holds him. Naruto watches him, his expression soft and unbearably patient, and the sight makes him angry. His hands clench around Naruto's collar, and the other man's eyes widen.
Sasuke's thoughts are a chaos, an endless loop of need and denial and pain, and he cannot untangle them. All he can see are the eyes of the person in front of him, and they are so, so blue.
He cannot stand it. He cannot stand the way Naruto looks at him. He cannot stand the way his fingers tighten around him. He cannot stand the way the heat rolls off him, or the way he smells, or the way his lips part, just slightly, and—
"Sasuke," Naruto breathes.
Something inside him shatters, and Sasuke gives in.
-
They say finding your way back to someone you love is like coming home, but Sasuke knows better.
Because home is warmth. Home is a door left unlocked, a kitchen that smells like broth, sheets worn soft with use. Home is safety. Home is welcome.
This is not home.
This is war. This is a battle for survival, for the right to exist. This is the most dangerous place Sasuke has ever been.
There are no comforts here. There is no shelter from the storm. The only thing this place can offer him is pain.
He crashes his lips against Naruto's, and it is violent. It is teeth and tongue and desperation, and it tastes like blood and alcohol. Naruto's lips part, and his hands tighten around Sasuke's waist, and the taste of him is a fire that burns him alive.
Sasuke kisses him because he cannot do anything else. He kisses him because it is easier than breathing, and because he knows he should not. He kisses him because he wants to, and because he hates him, and because if he does not do this, he will drown.
Naruto moans against his mouth, and the sound is a lightning strike. The noise ignites a need so intense Sasuke can barely think, and he pushes harder, kissing him like the world is ending, and the only way to survive is to devour the last breath between them.
They are stumbling, tripping over each other, and Sasuke is pushing, and pushing, until Naruto hits the wall again. The impact is violent, and it knocks the breath out of both of them, but the kiss does not stop. It is rough and hungry and unapologetic, and Sasuke is not sure who is in control.
His fingers twist, pulling at the hair at the nape of Naruto's neck, and the other man groans. The sound is so deliciously deep that it shakes something loose in Sasuke's chest. He feels a wildness creeping over him, something that is half-grief and half-lust, and it is overwhelming.
He kisses him, and it is like swallowing poison. He kisses him, and it is like being lit on fire.
They are not touching enough. Sasuke wants more. He needs more.
But he does not lead them anywhere. Not yet. He pins Naruto harder against the wall, one hand sliding under his shirt, fingers digging into warm skin as if to claim it. Naruto shudders, gasps, and then bites his lip, hard, and the pain is so sharp, and good, and—
"Stop," Sasuke growls, though his mouth is still on him. "Or don't. I can't..."
Naruto laughs, breathless and wrecked. "You're the one pinning me to a wall, bastard. You stop."
The words fuel him, make him shove his thigh between Naruto's and press close enough to bruise. Naruto grips his shoulders, digging in, and lets him. Lets him take, lets him rage, lets him lose.
It is not surrender, but it is something dangerously close, and it terrifies Sasuke almost as much as it consumes him.
They are a mess of mouths and hands, dragging each other down into something violent and unrelenting. Sasuke does not stop pushing him against the wall, again and again, as if force alone could make him understand. Naruto takes it, groaning into his mouth, his nails scraping along Sasuke's back through the fabric of his shirt.
Sasuke fists his hands in Naruto's hair and yanks his head back, biting along his jaw, down his throat. Naruto shudders under the roughness, his laugh breaking into a moan.
"You hate me this much, huh," Naruto pants, breath hot and ragged.
Sasuke snarls, but he does not answer. He cannot, because the truth is tangled up in want. His teeth scrape over the curve of Naruto's throat, and the other man arches into it like he is daring him to bite harder.
Their kisses are not kisses anymore. They are collisions, frantic and messy. Naruto tastes of sweat and sake, of something raw and alive, and Sasuke drinks it like poison.
They stumble sideways, Naruto pulling at his shoulders, Sasuke shoving him back into the wall when he tries to twist free. He cannot let go. He cannot give Naruto an inch.
The air is sharp in Sasuke's lungs, his chest heaving against Naruto's. Every inch of him burns. His hips press forward, unthinking, and Naruto gasps, his hands flying to Sasuke's waist, holding him there instead of pushing him away.
The sound that rips out of Sasuke's throat is half broken, half triumphant. He is drowning in this. In him.
Naruto breaks the kiss just long enough to rasp out, "Let me breathe, dammit."
Sasuke pulls back just enough to see the red marks across his jaw, the swollen lips, the flush on his cheeks. He is beautiful. He is devastating.
Sasuke is not sure he can survive this.
Naruto's eyes lock on his, and the blue is gone, swallowed up by black. He looks ruined. Hungry.
Sasuke is not sure which one of them moves first. All he knows is that their mouths meet again, and the kiss is even more frantic than before.
Sasuke wants to break him. He wants to shatter him and swallow every piece. He wants to burn through him, until the fire leaves nothing but ash, and they can start over. He wants. He wants.
He has never wanted anyone the way he wants Naruto.
But they cannot burn forever. The world will come crashing down eventually, and when it does, they will be left with the consequences of tonight.
They are not kissing anymore. They are just panting against each other's mouths, eyes locked, neither willing to break the spell. Sasuke wants to hold him and throw him away. He wants to stay. He wants to run. He does not know what he wants, except to not feel like this, and that is a hopeless wish.
And then, through the haze of heat and rage and need, his eyes flick upward. Down the street, neon burns in the night, garish and impossible to ignore. The sign glows in pale pink letters: HOTEL.
His mind is not clear enough to consider the consequences, or the ramifications. All he knows is that he wants, and the answer is a few hundred feet away.
He rips himself free, and Naruto's face is flushed, dazed, lips swollen, eyes wide with something like awe and terror both. The sight makes Sasuke want to ruin him all over again. Makes him want to keep him off-balance forever.
The moment Naruto realizes where Sasuke is looking, his eyes darken, but he does not speak. He does not stop him. They only stare, chests heaving, until the tension snaps, and they are stumbling forward, half-running, half-kissing, chasing the inferno consuming them both.
It's one of those dingy love hotels, with neon lights and an all-night clerk. The walls are covered in pink and purple lights, and the air smells like smoke and sex. It should feel sleazy, but the moment Sasuke steps through the door, the tension in his chest eases. He is far from safe, but at least the world is a little quieter.
Naruto's face is flushed, his eyes wild, and they pay for the room without a word. The clerk slides a key card across the counter, and Sasuke grabs it, and they are moving again.
They stumble into the elevator, and Sasuke does not wait. He cannot wait. He slams Naruto into the wall, devouring his mouth, not caring if anyone sees. He bites his lip until he tastes copper, and Naruto's head thuds back against the metal, eyes fluttering, chest rising in frantic gasps.
The elevator crawls, too slow, too quiet, and Sasuke cannot stand it. When the doors finally open, they are a mess of limbs, dragging each other down the hall, fumbling with the lock until at last they spill inside.
The door has barely clicked shut when everything comes apart. Hands claw, clothes tear, buttons scatter across the floor like shrapnel. Sasuke cannot stop, cannot think, cannot remember a world where he did not want this, where this hunger was not carved into his bones.
And, God, it hurts. It hurts more than anything.
Sasuke kisses him like a punishment, and Naruto... he lets him.
He lets him bite, pull, bruise, scar. He takes it all, and it makes no sense, because nothing about this is kind.
This is not love. This is violence disguised as longing. This is desperation wrapped in fury.
Sasuke hates him. He hates the tremor in his breath, the pounding of his pulse, the glaze in his eyes, the gasp in his throat. He hates every reminder that Naruto is alive and burning under his hands.
And still, Sasuke pulls him closer.
"Bed," he rasps, and Naruto nods.
They stumble backwards, and the mattress is too soft. The bed is the wrong shape, the sheets are the wrong color, and the whole room feels like a mockery of something Sasuke can barely remember. But it's a bed, and they are here, and Sasuke is not wasting another second.
He shoves Naruto down onto the mattress, and the blond goes willingly. His face is flushed, and his hair is mussed, and he looks up at him with the strangest expression. It is part awe, and part desperation, and Sasuke hates how vulnerable he looks.
He has never hated someone so much, and the fact that he loves him makes it even worse.
"Don't look at me like that," Sasuke hisses.
"Like what?" Naruto breathes, and his voice is ragged.
"Like you'd let me do anything," Sasuke spits, and his voice is bitter.
"But I would," Naruto whispers.
"You shouldn't."
"I don't care."
The words hit him like a blow, and he hates that it hurts. He hates that the words break something inside him, and make his vision blur. He hates that the tears are real, and that the ache in his throat is raw.
He kisses him because he cannot stand the look in his eyes.
"Fuck you," Sasuke growls.
"Whatever you need," Naruto breathes.
Sasuke shivers, and the words make him wild. He pushes down, and the air leaves Naruto's lungs in a rush. Their bodies are pressed together, and it is not close enough. Sasuke rolls his hips, and the friction is agonizing, and the sound Naruto makes is so good that it is painful.
He rolls his hips again, and the moan he gets in response is addictive. He presses down harder, and the sound becomes a whimper.
This is nothing like their first time together. When Sasuke had given everything, and Naruto had taken it. When he had been vulnerable, and open, and raw. That night had felt like an opening. A window through which he could see the world clearly.
But this... this is different.
Tonight, Naruto is the one who is exposed. Tonight, Sasuke is the one holding all the power.
And it's a heady thing, having the man he loves spread out beneath him, panting, and flushed, and desperate. It's a terrible thing, the knowledge that the man who could give him everything has placed himself completely in his hands.
It is intoxicating.
Sasuke leans forward, and his lips brush Naruto's ear.
"Whatever I need?" he breathes, and the question is a tease.
"Anything," Naruto gasps.
The admission is a blow, and Sasuke cannot think. He does not want to. He does not want to consider how many ways Naruto has given him the power to break him. He does not want to wonder if anyone else has ever been able to reach the place inside him that can be shattered.
Sasuke does not want to think, so he doesn't.
He licks a line up the column of Naruto's throat, and the other man arches. He scrapes his teeth against his collarbone, and the gasp he gets in response is a victory. He drags his tongue down, down, until he finds a nipple, and sucks hard.
Naruto's breath stutters, and his chest is shaking. Sasuke does not stop.
He does not stop, because Naruto is not asking him to.
His tongue traces the planes of his stomach, and his fingers grip hard at his thighs. He leaves marks where he can, and the sound of Naruto's whimpers and gasps are the most beautiful music. He does not stop, until he reaches his cock.
He looks up, and Naruto is watching him.
The sight of him, flushed and panting, hair mussed and pupils blown, makes Sasuke's chest hurt. There is an edge of desperation to his expression, and his lips are parted. He is beautiful, and terrible, and perfect, and—
Sasuke closes his eyes.
He does not want to know what Naruto sees when he looks at him. He does not want to be aware of the power he has over him, or the effect he has. If he sees the pain in his eyes, or the tears clinging to his lashes, he will not be able to do this.
So, Sasuke does not look.
He opens his mouth, and wraps his lips around the tip of his cock.
Naruto hisses, and the sound is strained. His hand tangles in Sasuke's hair, and the touch is soft, and careful, and he wants to shake it off. He does not want to feel gentle touches. He wants to feel nails and teeth.
So, Sasuke moves.
He takes him deeper, choking on the stretch, remembering with a pounding heart how he had felt inside him. The memory burns, but tonight is not about that. Tonight is about control.
Naruto groans, grip tightening, body trembling as he tries to hold still. Restraint. Always restraint. Sasuke despises it. He wants the wildness. He wants the desperation.
He pulls off, and looks up, and his eyes are hard.
"You're allowed to enjoy this," Sasuke says.
The words sound cold, and cruel, and it is exactly what he is aiming for.
Naruto flinches. Then something dark and primal flashes across his face, and Sasuke savors it. Anger. Possession. Need. The way his fingers twist in Sasuke's hair is exactly what he craves.
Sasuke wants that.
He gets it. Naruto yanks him down, shoving, thrusting into his mouth, and Sasuke chokes. He does not care. He wants the pain, and the pressure, and the weight of him on his tongue. He wants the violence. He wants to be in control of the destruction.
The world goes hazy, and Sasuke's mind is blissfully blank. His thoughts are swallowed by the sensation of being used. Of being wanted.
Naruto is gasping, and hissing, and the noises are the most delicious things. The hand in his hair is rough, and his thighs are shaking, and he is losing his composure.
He is losing his composure because of Sasuke.
The thought makes his own cock throb.
He wants to drag this out, and he does not care how selfish it is. He wants Naruto to feel as broken as he does. He wants to push him beyond rationality, until the only thing left is raw instinct.
Naruto is falling apart, and the sounds are addicting.
Sasuke swallows him, and he feels the pulse of him in his throat, and he almost smiles. He does not. Instead, he swallows, and Naruto gasps. He does it again, and Naruto curses. And again, and again, and the way Naruto's grip tightens is the most satisfying thing.
He knows Naruto is close. He can hear it in the hitch in his breath, and the way his voice has gone ragged. He can see it in the twitch of his thighs, and the way his chest is heaving. He can feel it in the way his fingers curl in his hair, and—
It would be so easy to let him finish like this. So easy to let the moment crest and vanish.
But Sasuke never takes the easy path.
Sasuke pulls off.
The sudden emptiness of his mouth is startling, and the loss is a shock. His lips are sore, and his jaw aches, and he is already mourning the sensation.
Naruto makes a wounded sound, sharp and furious, almost betrayed. His hand jerks in Sasuke's hair, desperate to shove him back down, but Sasuke grabs his wrist and pins it to the mattress. Naruto groans and Sasuke relishes the anger in it. He has made him angry. Good.
He sees him open his mouth, probably to protest, but then he catches the look in Sasuke's eyes. His mouth closes. The fury drains from his face, and it is replaced by an expression Sasuke cannot read.
Naruto sits up, thumb swiping clumsily across Sasuke's wet chin.
"I hate you," Sasuke says, weakly.
"I know," Naruto breathes.
Naruto leans forward, and the kiss is softer than he deserves. The way he holds him is steady, and careful, and Sasuke's throat burns.
He hates him. He hates him. He hates him.
"Hate me," Sasuke whispers against his mouth.
"No," Naruto says.
Sasuke kisses him hard enough to taste blood. Naruto lets him.
Naruto always lets him.
"Let me do this," Sasuke chokes out. "I can't..."
I can't stand the way you look at me. I can't stand the way you hold me. I can't stand the way you keep letting me break you. I can't stand how much I love you.
Naruto's lips curve against his, and it is sad, gentle, and so horribly sweet.
"Whatever you need," he says.
Sasuke cannot stand how much that breaks him.
His hands shake, and he can barely see, but he needs this. He reaches to the bedside table, fumbling through the drawers. Of course a shady hotel like this has lube. He is not sure if he is relieved or repulsed.
He uncaps the bottle, and pours it onto his fingers, and when he looks up, Naruto is watching him. There is something in his eyes that makes him ache.
"Don't," Sasuke whispers, and his voice cracks.
Naruto's expression does not change, and Sasuke does not understand. How can someone who is so broken still be so fucking soft? How can the man who has shattered his world still look at him like that?
Sasuke is shaking, and he hates it. He hates the weakness, and the longing, and the need. He hates the fact that he can never escape him.
"Turn around," he hisses, and Naruto obeys.
The sight of him like that is a blow. Naruto, naked and flushed, skin damp with sweat, ass raised and waiting. The trust is the worst part. He can feel the vulnerability radiating off him, and it makes him ache.
But still, he moves.
He slides a finger in, and it is smooth, and easy. Sasuke bites his lip, remembering the way Naruto had looked, fucking him for the first time. Remembering the stretch, and the burn, and the pleasure. Remembering the feeling of being filled.
He craves that. He wants to lose himself in it.
He wants Naruto to flip him over, and press him into the mattress, and fuck him until he forgets everything.
But Sasuke knows that he would not survive it.
So instead, he pushes deeper, and curls his finger.
Naruto's shoulders are shaking, and his fingers are tangled in the sheets, and the way he is gasping makes Sasuke dizzy. It is a beautiful thing, watching him fall apart. Knowing that Sasuke is the one responsible.
He presses deeper, and he can tell the moment he hits the right spot, because Naruto cries out. His whole body shudders, and Sasuke does it again.
He presses deeper, and the angle is just right. He adds a second finger, and Naruto hisses, but it is not from pain. The sound is strained, and desperate, and he is trying so hard to stay still.
Sasuke's eyes are glued to him, drinking in the sight, and his cock is throbbing. It's a struggle to breathe. His heart is pounding, and his hands are shaking, and—
Sasuke wants him.
He wants him in a way he has never wanted anything, and he is not sure how much longer he can bear the hunger.
Sasuke is shaking, and it is more than lust. It is fear, and need, and grief.
He is afraid that if he does this, nothing will change. He is afraid that, if he does not, something inside him will shatter forever. He is afraid that he will not survive the next few minutes, but that is the only way to live.
A third finger joins the others, and Naruto's voice is ragged.
"Oh god... I—"
"Don't," Sasuke snarls.
There is a long, tense moment where neither of them moves. Sasuke's breath is shallow, and his heart is pounding, and the tension is suffocating.
And then, slowly, Naruto's shoulders relax. He sags, and his breath is a whimper, and his back is curved in surrender.
Sasuke bites his lip until he tastes the blood.
Is this really what it's come to? Is this all they are now? Pain and desperation and a hunger that never ends?
Yes.
Sasuke wants him bent, faceless, and anonymous. He wants to take what he craves without drowning in those blue eyes. He wants to thrust until the world disappears, until he cannot remember that this is Naruto, the one person he can never escape.
But Naruto, with his back turned, and his face hidden, and his shoulders bent in defeat... the sight is wrong.
His chest tightens. His hands won't stop shaking. He pulls his fingers free.
"Turn back around," he chokes out.
Naruto freezes, and the hesitation is so strange. So unexpected.
"What?" Naruto says, and his voice is small.
"I can't," Sasuke chokes out. "I can't do it like this."
It takes a few moments for Naruto to understand. A few long, painful moments where they both just breathe, and the tension is thick enough to choke on.
And then, slowly, he turns.
When their eyes meet, there is a long, agonizing pause. And, oh, how Sasuke aches. He is so, so tired of wanting. Tired of hurting. Tired of the constant war between his mind and his heart.
Sasuke feels it like the edge of a blade at his throat. This is not a fight anymore. It is an execution, and he is the one kneeling before the axe.
"Look at me," Naruto says, and his voice is quiet.
Sasuke's throat closes.
"I am looking," he breathes.
"Keep looking," Naruto whispers.
And the request is so absurd. So fucking ridiculous. As if Sasuke has not been looking. As if he has not been drowning, and suffocating, and burning in those endless eyes since the day he met him.
Naruto reaches up, and his thumb swipes across Sasuke's cheek. When he pulls it away, his skin is wet.
Sasuke is crying, and he hates it. Hates the weakness, hates the way his body betrays him, hates that Naruto is here to see it. He wanted this to be punishment, to strip Naruto bare until nothing was left but need and regret. But now, the only person bleeding is him.
And God, does he bleed.
Because the truth is worse. The truth is that he cannot survive this faceless, loveless version of them. He cannot fuck Naruto without looking at him. Without seeing every tremor, every shudder, every unguarded piece of him that Sasuke should have turned away from years ago.
And now it is too late.
Naruto is beneath him, eyes wide, lips parted, and every ounce of trust and devotion that Sasuke tried to stamp out is still right there, unburned, unbroken. He should have known. Naruto has always been too stubborn to kill.
The slick heat of him as Sasuke pushes in is unbearable. He has to close his eyes for a second, has to steady himself, because it feels like falling into a memory he has dreamed and denied a thousand times. His chest caves, his lungs burn, his body shakes. Naruto gasps beneath him, clutching at his shoulders, and the sound is enough to shatter him.
It is too much. Too raw. Too real.
He wants to keep his distance, to stay silent, to drive into him until there is nothing left but sensation. But Naruto is looking at him, always looking, and Sasuke is caught.
He gives an experimental thrust, and Naruto whimpers. The sound is like a hook in his ribs, pulling him down, down, down into a place where the pain is too deep to name. Sasuke leans closer, and his lips brush Naruto's throat.
"I can't... I can't stand how you look at me," Sasuke whispers, and the words are ragged.
"Then why'd you ask me to turn back around?" Naruto breathes.
Sasuke's breath shudders out, and he buries his face in Naruto's neck. The rhythm comes slow, deliberate, and it is agony. Each thrust is a confession he will never say aloud, each gasp a surrender he cannot afford. He tries to bite it back, tries to twist the ache into rage, but it seeps through anyway. It always does.
Naruto's hands are gentle where they should not be, fingers trembling as if he knows how close Sasuke is to breaking. Every touch says I love you. Every breath says don't run. Every sound says stay.
Sasuke wants to scream.
Because this is not a victory. This is not revenge. This is annihilation.
He buries himself deeper, and deeper still, and the walls he has built for years are cracking with every stroke. He feels himself unraveling, thread by thread, until he is nothing but need and grief and the unbearable truth he has tried to deny.
Naruto's voice is soft in his ear, broken but steady. "Sasuke."
And it is not fair. It is not fair that his name in that voice feels like salvation and damnation all at once. It is not fair that he cannot stop.
He clutches Naruto closer, trembling, desperate, choking on a sob that rips through his chest.
There is no escape.
Because in this moment, inside him, breaking against him, staring into those eyes that have never once let him go, Sasuke understands.
He has lost.
He has always been losing.
All his anger, and violence, and rage could never hold a candle to the way he loves him. He can never hate him the way he should.
His heart has been buried in Naruto's hands for years, and no matter how many times he tries to claw it free, there is nothing. He is nothing.
He tries to make up for the emptiness by moving faster, harder, driving into him like a wild thing, but it does not help. It does not help because, despite the desperation, the violence, the roughness, Sasuke is not using him.
Sasuke is not taking what he wants.
Sasuke is giving.
Giving everything he has, everything he is, and everything he will be. Giving up the last shreds of his dignity, and the scraps of his sanity, and the broken remains of his heart. Giving until he is empty.
And Naruto takes.
Naruto takes, and takes, and takes, and the only reason he does not rip Sasuke's soul from his bones is because Sasuke is already giving it away.
Sasuke's fingers dig into Naruto's skin, and his nails are sharp, and his grip is too tight, and the sounds they make are so much louder than they should be. He knows he should be gentle, and careful, and kind, but there is no room for kindness when his world is crumbling.
Naruto hisses.
Sasuke pulls him closer, and Naruto cries out, and the sound is not quite pain. He does not stop.
Sasuke needs more. More pain. More pleasure. More, more, more.
He lifts one of Naruto's legs, shifting the angle, and the next thrust has him gasping. Sasuke's fingers slide into his hair, gripping hard, and his hips are merciless.
"God... oh god... yes, yes, right there... just like that," Naruto gasps.
The way his eyes flutter shut, and his head tilts back, and his lips part... Sasuke does not understand. How can anyone be so open? How can he show his weakness without fear?
Sasuke is not strong. He has never been. Not the way Naruto is.
He is selfish, and cruel, and weak, and—
Naruto's hands curl into his hair, and yank, and the sting makes his breath stutter. He blinks, and their eyes meet.
"Keep looking at me," Naruto pants.
Sasuke is shaking. He does not know why. He is not cold.
Naruto's expression softens. "Come on. Come on, Sasuke."
Sasuke does not know what he is asking for. He does not know what is happening, and the desperation is clawing its way up his throat. He is burning, drowning, shattering, falling, and—
Sasuke looks.
He keeps looking.
Because he is helpless. Because, no matter how hard he fights, Naruto will not let him go.
"That's it," Naruto says. "That's it. Just... just give it to me. Give it all to me. Don't stop."
Give what? Sasuke is not sure he has anything left to give. His arms are shaking, and his vision is hazy, and his skin is so hot he thinks he might burst into flames. He is not in control. He has never been.
His hand slides down, wraps around Naruto's cock, and strokes. The movement is clumsy, and rushed, but the choked sound Naruto makes is beautiful.
"Fuck," Naruto hisses. "Yes, yes, just like that, yes..."
Naruto's mouth opens, and his eyes squeeze shut, and his whole body shudders. The way his back arches, the way his fingers clench in the sheets, the way his face goes slack.
The way he lets Sasuke see.
It is the most beautiful thing Sasuke has ever seen.
He keeps stroking, even as Naruto gasps, and writhes, and moans. He keeps stroking until his own release hits him like a shockwave, and the force of it nearly blinds him.
But it's not his orgasm that shatters him.
It is a single, devastating word, spoken so softly, and it breaks him in a way a scream never could.
"Stay."
The word is a plea. It is a prayer. It detonates inside him more cleanly than any scream ever could. Sasuke collapses into the hold he had vowed for so long to avoid. For the first time in ten years he lets himself be caught.
"Stay," Naruto whispers again, and his arms are around him, and the warmth of him is the most terrifying thing Sasuke has ever felt.
His lips tremble, and he is shaking. His hands are fisted in Naruto's shirt, and his throat is burning, and he is so tired. He is tired of running. Tired of fighting.
Tired of being alone.
He does not know how long they stay like that, wrapped in each other, breathing each other's air. It could be seconds. It could be days. It could be that their whole lives have been lived in the moments between breaths, and neither of them has noticed until now.
Sasuke almost laughs. It is the sort of thought that Naruto would have. The sort of thought Sasuke would have scoffed at before he fell in love.
He is a fool.
They both are.
He is about to tell him as much, when the sound of buzzing cuts through the silence. It is coming from the bedside table. Naruto must have put his phone there earlier.
Sasuke's eyes instinctively follow the sound, and it takes him a second to realize what he is looking at.
Hinata.
Her name glows on the screen, bright and merciless.
The world tilts, and the warmth in his chest curdles into something sharp and poisonous. His stomach drops. His skin goes cold. In a single instant, every fragile thread holding him together snaps.
Of course.
Of course this is what he has done. Again.
Seventeen years ago he had drowned himself in the same sin, and here he is, still choking on the same water. He has not changed. He has not learned. He has taken what was never his, let himself believe in something that was never true, and he is a goddamn idiot.
"Sasuke?" Naruto asks, and his voice is careful.
Sasuke is already sitting up. Already grabbing his clothes, shoving them on. He does not have time to waste. There is no time. There is no space. The walls are closing in. He has to run. He has to run. He has to run.
"Sasuke!"
But the name means nothing, and the hand on his arm means less. Sasuke rips away. He cannot stay. He cannot think. The panic is a fist around his throat, and the air is too thin, and he cannot—
He has to run.
The door slams, and he does not know where he is going. The ground is rushing up, and the sky is crashing down, and he is falling, falling, falling.
But no one is there to catch him.
Naruto had always felt like something was missing.
There was always something that wasn't quite right, something that didn't quite fit. It was as if his entire life had been a game of Tetris. He'd been playing, and playing, and moving pieces, and rearranging, and doing his best to make the right parts connect.
But it never worked.
No matter how hard he tried, nothing ever lined up.
He'd grown up as an orphan. No parents. No family. No friends. He was an outcast, an anomaly. The weird kid. The poor kid. The one who talked too loud, and was a little bit clumsy, and always seemed just a bit off.
His foster father, Jiraiya, was an author. A writer. And, for a time, he'd traveled all over the world, studying folklore and ancient customs, learning all he could about cultures. He was fascinated by the idea of fated connections, of predetermined relationships, of bonds that transcended time, and space, and reason.
It was during that time, when Naruto was young, and impressionable, and so lonely it hurt, that Jiraiya told him the story.
Not a fairy tale, exactly. More like a parable. About two boys who met on opposite sides of a river. They forged a bond so strong, the water could not break it. And even though their families were sworn enemies, they vowed to meet each other, again and again, in the center of the river, to talk, and laugh, and become friends.
They dreamt, together, of a day when peace would prevail, and their families would forgive their ancestors, and the two of them could build a bridge, and walk across it, and leave their pasts behind.
Against all the odds, their dreams came true.
But then, just when their futures were unfolding, when their lives were finally theirs, their differences reared their ugly heads, and the river, which had been so kind to them, turned red.
It wasn't the river's fault, Jiraiya had said. The river couldn't help its nature, any more than the boys could help theirs.
So they fought.
And, even though they loved each other, and had dreamed of building a future, together, they couldn't.
So the river ran red.
And the boys died.
Naruto had always hated the story.
Had hated the ending, most of all.
Jiraiya had said the story went back centuries, carried in whispers and retellings, each generation reshaping it. Sometimes the boys were brothers, sometimes rivals, sometimes strangers who simply recognized themselves in each other. But the ending was always the same: they couldn't bridge the distance, and the world was poorer for it.
Naruto hadn't understood.
Why couldn't they build a bridge? Why couldn't they cross the river? Why couldn't they choose each other?
Why couldn't the world give them that, at least?
Jiraiya had told him the answer, and it had haunted him.
Love is not enough.
As he grew up, he tried to forget the story. Tried to shake off the idea that the universe was determined to keep him apart from anyone who made him feel like he wasn't alone.
And, for a while, he thought he'd succeeded.
College was good to him. He'd made friends. Good friends. The kind of friends he'd never had before. The kind of friends he could imagine keeping, and talking to, and laughing with, for years, and years, and years.
But one friend stood out more than the rest.
He had noticed him the second he walked into their shared dorm. His hair was messy, his skin pale, his eyes dark. His presence was like a black hole, pulling everything in until you could not remember why you had ever looked anywhere else.
But he was cold.
Unfriendly.
Unapproachable.
And Naruto had felt an instant, visceral pull.
So he approached him.
They bickered, and fought, and pushed each other's buttons, and argued, and shouted, and got drunk, and somehow, somewhere, between the insults, and the arguments, and the late nights, and the shared secrets, something changed.
When Naruto was around him, he didn't feel alone.
He felt seen.
So they became best friends.
Naruto had hoped, for a while, that it might turn into something more. That the spark of attraction, the electricity, the tension, would eventually become something tangible. Something real.
But he'd walked in on him, one night, in bed with Sakura.
And the fantasy shattered.
He hadn't minded, though. Not really. Because the thing about Sasuke was that his friendship was a gift. A once in a lifetime gift. It was the kind of gift that changed you, and saved you, and made the whole damn world worth it.
And if that was the only way Sasuke wanted him, that was enough.
So Naruto had pushed his feelings down. Had buried them deep, and thrown a sheet over them, and pretended they weren't there. He'd noticed the shy, and quiet, and kind girl who sat next to him in class. Had noticed the way she blushed when she talked to him, and stuttered, and stared. And, somewhere along the way, he'd realized that maybe, just maybe, she could make him happy.
He'd really believed it.
For a time, he'd thought he'd fallen in love.
But then...
Then.
On that fated, cursed, blessed night, everything changed.
Naruto had spent years dreaming of the moment, but his imagination was a paltry imitation of the reality. Of the feel of Sasuke's hands on his body. Of his lips on his own. Of his skin, and his scent, and his sounds, and his taste.
When they woke up together, and the fog of sleep had lifted, and the memories had returned, and the realization of what they'd done had set in, Naruto had felt a surge of hope, and optimism, and euphoria.
They'd talked, and they'd confessed, and they'd promised.
Naruto was going to break things off with Hinata.
If only the universe had let him.
And, right then, standing there in front of the love of his life, his chest aching, his eyes burning, and his heart screaming, Naruto knew the truth.
Knew that the story, and the ending, had always been right.
Love wasn't enough.
Nothing was.
-
"What did you just say?"
Naruto couldn't meet his eyes. He thought, if he did, he might just shatter.
"Hinata's pregnant," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "With my kid."
Silence.
Deafening, horrible, painful silence.
Naruto could hear Sasuke's breathing. Could hear his own, too.
Could hear the way his heart was pounding, could hear the sound of his blood, rushing through his veins, could hear his life, and his future, crumbling around him.
"Say something," Naruto said, the words desperate, pleading.
"You're going to have a child."
The words were flat. Emotionless.
Empty.
"I am."
"Congratulations."
Naruto thought if words could wound, his chest would be soaked in blood. He thought, if he opened it up, and looked, that the only thing he'd find inside would be a gaping, bleeding hole.
"Sasuke," Naruto choked, his eyes burning. "Please, please, please, don't—"
"Don't what, Naruto? Don't tell you congratulations on the kid you're going to have with your girlfriend?"
"My girlfriend," he repeated, numbly.
"Yes. Your girlfriend," Sasuke said. "I assume she still is, unless you've ended it already?"
Naruto feels like he's being flayed alive.
"I couldn't," he rasped. "Not yet. She's—"
"Right," Sasuke said, cutting him off. "Well, I can't imagine that will go over very well."
Naruto pressed his fingers against his palms until it hurt. His nails left little crescents in his skin. He wanted to say something, anything, but his throat was closing.
"Sasuke," Naruto repeated, the name a plea. "Please, look at me."
"No."
The word was so final. So finite. It fell like a door slamming.
"Sasuke, please."
"No."
"Sasuke, I'm begging you."
"I said no!"
"Look at me!"
The words were a roar. An animalistic cry of pain.
Naruto did not know where the rage came from. Did not know what the hell he was doing. His body moved before his mind caught up, a desperate lunge at something already slipping away.
He watched, almost detached, as his hands wrapped around Sasuke's face, fingers digging into his cheeks, forcing his head up. He could feel the heat of his skin, the tremor of restrained fury under his palms.
And then, at last, their eyes met.
It was only a second. A second of connection. A second of shared agony, and unbearable heartbreak, and endless, unending grief. In that second Naruto felt the weight of every moment they had shared, every look, every laugh, every quiet night when the air between them had felt too thin to breathe. He felt all of it break at once.
Then a fist collided with his jaw.
Pain flashed white, and Naruto stumbled back, fell to the floor. He lay there, stunned, his palm pressed to the sting in his cheek. His teeth rattled. His whole body felt hollow.
Sasuke was glaring down at him, his teeth gritted, his fists clenched. His chest rose and fell, slow and dangerous.
"You can't do this," he growled. "You can't come here, and expect me to— to what? Be fine with this? Let you grab me, and demand things, and— and—"
Naruto pushed himself up, slowly, and rose to his feet.
Sasuke glared at him.
"And what, Naruto? What exactly are your plans, here? Are you going to run off and raise a child with your girlfriend, and, what, expect me to just wait for you? Until the next time you feel like cheating on her? Until the next time you have a momentary lapse in judgment, and decide, hey, let's just fuck my best friend, and pretend it never happened?"
"Sasuke," Naruto croaked.
"I won't," Sasuke hissed. "I won't be that person."
Naruto flinched.
"You know what's fucked up, Naruto?" Sasuke said. "That I even have to explain this. That you're standing there, in front of me, and telling me this, and acting like you're the victim. Like you have any goddamn right."
"I never meant—"
"I don't give a fuck what you meant. Go home, Naruto. Go home, and marry the girl, and raise your fucking child, and get out of my life."
Naruto's eyes stung.
"And if you have even an ounce of respect for me, or our friendship, or whatever the fuck we were, you'll do me one favor."
Naruto could feel the tears on his face, could taste the salt on his lips.
"What?" he whispered.
"Never speak to me again."
Sasuke turned away.
"Leave."
The river ran red.
"Sasuke," Naruto begged.
"Go."
And all the boys could do was die.
-
Naruto stumbled across the hall of their dorm, his body moving by memory, his mind too numb to do much more than put one foot in front of the other.
The corridor felt longer than it had ever been, stretching and narrowing at the same time, the walls bowing in, pressing closer with every step. His palms were damp. His vision blurred at the edges. His heartbeat thudded against his ribs like a trapped animal.
He needed to get out. Out of the hall, out of his own head, out of everything. His thoughts scattered like dry leaves in a storm, catching on nothing. He couldn't remember the last full breath he had taken. Air scraped his throat raw. His lungs felt like they were shrinking.
He turned a corner without meaning to, blinking against the sting in his eyes. His fingers brushed the cool wall to steady himself. He thought of running, of bursting through the doors and disappearing, but his legs didn't have it in them.
A door creaked open ahead of him, and the sound snapped him back into his body. He lifted his head, startled, and met a pair of brown eyes.
"Naruto," Shikamaru said. "What are you—"
"Can I come in?"
Shikamaru didn't question it.
He just stepped aside.
Naruto stumbled inside, the familiar smell of smoke and fabric softener grounding him for a heartbeat. He sank onto Shikamaru's bed, hands clutching his knees. Then his body folded forward and he buried his face in his palms, trembling so hard his teeth clicked. His skin was clammy. His throat felt like it was closing. His chest seized in uneven spasms. What was this? A heart attack? Was this what dying felt like?
"Hey," Shikamaru said, sitting beside him.
Naruto's gaze drifted, his eyes finding his friend's.
"Breathe, man."
Naruto tried. His lungs refused.
"Come on," Shikamaru said softly. "In and out. Nice and easy."
He could hear the words, but they were far away, like someone calling from the other side of water.
"In," Shikamaru murmured.
Naruto's chest locked.
"And out."
He shook his head. His hands dug into his thighs.
"In," Shikamaru repeated, breathing with him this time, exaggerating the rise and fall.
Naruto squeezed his eyes shut, but his chest felt like it was splitting.
"And out."
The tears broke through before the breath did. Hot and silent at first, then spilling down his cheeks.
"That's it. In," Shikamaru said.
Naruto dragged air into his lungs, shaky and uneven.
"And out."
His whole body trembled.
"In."
The room swam. His world was falling apart.
"And out."
He shuddered, air leaving him in a ragged rush.
"That's it," Shikamaru murmured again. "You're alright."
Naruto blinked up at him, his eyes hot and sore. He realized, dimly, that his entire body was shaking.
"What's happening to me?"
Shikamaru hesitated.
"I think you're having a panic attack."
"A panic attack," Naruto repeated, hollowly. "What does that mean?"
"It means your body is having a visceral reaction to an extreme emotional state. Like anxiety, or stress, or panic. Your breathing gets messed up, and your heart rate goes through the roof, and you feel like you're dying. It's the fight or flight response gone wrong."
"It feels real," Naruto choked.
"Yeah," Shikamaru agreed. "I know. Just try and breathe with me, okay?"
They sat like that for a long time, Naruto taking shuddering breaths while Shikamaru talked him through it, reminding him to focus on his body, and grounding him in the moment. Eventually, the tightness in his chest loosened, and the air returned to his lungs, and the tremors eased, and the world righted itself.
"You good?" Shikamaru asked, eventually.
Naruto nodded, numbly.
"Want to tell me what happened?"
He didn't.
He couldn't.
But he did.
And when it was over, and the words were gone, and the truth had been laid bare, Naruto sat there, his head in his hands, and waited.
For the silence. For the judgment.
For the words he knew were coming.
But they didn't.
Shikamaru stayed quiet, for a long, long time.
"Well," he said, at last. "That's a pickle."
Naruto's mouth twitched, weakly.
"Really? That's all you have to say?"
"Well, no, but I figured you might need a minute. So I chose a less dramatic, and far more appropriate, descriptor. It's a pickle."
A snort of laughter escaped Naruto's lips, followed by a sob. He pressed a palm to his mouth, struggling for control.
"What am I going to do?" he asked, hoarsely.
"I don't know, man. You're really in a shit position, here. You're going to have to talk to her, though. I'm not going to lie, that's going to be hard."
Naruto nodded.
"But, and this is going to sound bad, but you also have to think about yourself, too."
Naruto's head snapped up.
"What?"
"Don't look at me like that. I'm not saying you shouldn't feel bad. You should. But you have to consider how this is going to impact your life, as well. I'm not going to lie, Naruto, but there's a chance you won't have a choice. From what you told me, Sasuke isn't going to forgive you, at least not for a long time. I'm sorry, but you need to prepare for that."
"I get it," Naruto rasped. "He has a right to protect himself. I can't ask him to stay, and be okay with it, just because I fucked up."
"Not just that," Shikamaru said. "Hinata may not forgive you, either."
Naruto stilled.
"You're telling her," Shikamaru said, and Naruto could hear the question in the statement.
"Yes," Naruto replied, without hesitation. "Of course I am. Man, I don't know how to explain this to you, but I'm not a cheater. Which sounds shitty from a guy who cheated, but, trust me, I'd never do it if I thought—if I didn't think—"
He cut himself off, his chest squeezing.
"I get it," Shikamaru said. "I believe that you would have done things the right way, if you could have. The issue is that you didn't, and you need to accept the consequences of that. And, Naruto, there is a strong chance that the consequence is losing both of them."
Naruto stared down at his hands.
"What would you do, if it were you?"
"I would have practiced safer sex, for starters."
Naruto looked up and glared.
"I did, you know. We used condoms."
"Well, they aren't a hundred percent."
"No," Naruto muttered. "Clearly."
He'd always thought the odds were so slim, he didn't even think of it. But he never noticed any breakages, or rips, or anything else that would indicate the condom had failed.
Then again, it wasn't like he was always paying close attention.
"But, honestly," Shikamaru said, interrupting his thoughts. "If it were me, I'd marry the girl. Raise the kid."
"Just like that?"
"Yeah. I'd have a hard time forgiving myself, and I wouldn't feel great about the circumstances, but I'd try and make the best of it. It's not a great situation, but it's not the kid's fault."
Naruto winced.
"No," he said, finally. "It's not."
-
The conversation with Hinata went both better and worse than Naruto had anticipated.
Better, because she didn't scream. Didn't shout. Didn't cry, or call him names, or accuse him of being a cheating bastard.
Worse, because she took it better than he expected.
She nodded, and listened, and when he was done, and the silence stretched, and his stomach had turned to lead, she said something that hit him like a gut punch.
"I understand."
Naruto felt dizzy.
"Wait," he said, the word thick. "What?"
"I understand," she repeated, her voice gentle. "I know you didn't mean for this to happen. You didn't want to hurt anyone. I know that. This isn't fair. None of it. Not to me, not to Sasuke, and especially not to the baby. It's not right, or okay, but it is what it is."
"Hinata—"
"Naruto, don't interrupt me," her voice cut through him, sharper than he had ever heard it. Her hands trembled in her lap, clenched into fists before she forced them open again. "Let me finish."
The soft, sad smile on her face made him ache, but there was something behind it now. Something simmering.
"We have a lot to talk about, and we will, but I just want to say this."
He nodded, throat tight.
"I will love this baby," she said. "I will love them, and I will cherish them, and I will give them everything they could ever want, and more. I will love them enough to make up for two parents. So if you want out, then go."
"Hinata," Naruto croaked. "I don't deserve—"
Her eyes flashed, and the words cracked like a whip.
"I don't care what you think you deserve." She exhaled sharply, reining herself back in, her voice quiet again but no less firm. "I haven't forgiven you. Not even close. I don't think I can, not right now. I understand, but I'm not happy. I'm hurt, and angry, and sad, and disappointed, and I'm allowed to feel that. I'm allowed to not be okay, right now. But this child will not suffer because of our mistakes. I won't let that happen. So, if you're going to run, do it now. Get out of this, and don't look back. But if you want to stay, if you're going to put the work in, then we can figure this out."
Naruto closed his eyes.
"I want to stay."
There was never another choice.
Naruto didn't know, right then, what was going to happen.
Didn't know if he was making the right decision.
But, for once, he knew his heart.
Knew that he could be a father. That he would try his damnedest, every day, to be the best one he could.
Knew that there was a tiny little person inside Hinata's belly, and they were a part of him. A part of him, and her, and that, even though he hadn't meant for it to happen, or planned it, or expected it, it was his responsibility, his honor, and his privilege, to care for them.
To love them.
That was the only thing he was certain of.
"Alright," Hinata said. "I don't know if we will ever be able to be together, like we were, but I'd like us to be friends. And, maybe, in the future, if we both move past this, if we both heal, and if you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you want a real relationship with me, I'd like that, too."
She paused.
"But for now, I think we should take things one step at a time. If you're willing."
"Of course," Naruto agreed, his throat raw. "I'm so sorry, Hinata. I'm so, so sorry."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"I know."