Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Defenseless ❯ Defenseless ( One-Shot )

Not even Kakashi Sensei could sneak up on Naruto anymore. He'd honed his senses to the point where, at 19, he could distinguish the faintest traces of chakra at distances of more than a mile. Working with Shino and his tiniest ninsects, he'd sensitized himself to chakra trails that were defined by molecules, sometimes on the sub-cellular level.

 

He'd once tracked Kiba all the way to Wave Country on the strength of week-old remnants of desire for some bitch he'd been chasing. Not that Kiba had appreciated it. Still, it had helped work off some of the frustration that seemed to accompany him everywhere these days. Frustration that Sasuke was still out there, pursuing Madara with single-minded determination, all the while burning in the private hell he'd entered upon learning that Itachi was—like Sasuke himself—nothing but an unwilling pawn.

 

He'd seen Sasuke just three times since Itachi's death. Once in a bloody free-for-all between Akatsuki, Hebi and Konoha ninjas, slicing skin from bone to the eerie soundtrack of Tobi's crazed laugh.

 

Once on the crumbling balcony outside his apartment, where the black-haired renegade suddenly appeared one spring morning as Naruto was watching the sun rise. Sasuke had grabbed him from behind on that occasion, crushing him against his chest, one hand pulling his head back while the other imprisoned his throwing arm.

 

“Wha--?”

 

“Shut up,” he'd hissed, and Naruto had frozen in shock as Sasuke buried his face in his neck, pushing against him until they were both gasping for air. “I want to fucking consume you,” he'd murmured through clenched teeth. And then he was gone.

 

And once last night. Sasuke had gotten past his guard again, effortlessly pulling off a trick that even the ANBU couldn't imitate. But it was what happened afterwards that caused Naruto's gut to clench hotly as he stared over rooftops framed by his kitchen window, already baking in the mid-morning heat.

 

He'd been returning from the 24-hour market, cups of Ramen rustling against bottles of milk in his flimsy plastic shopping bag. It was a typical Saturday night in August—humid, steaming hot and noisy. Bars spilled their drunken revelers onto the streets, and inebriated laughter followed him down the quieter alleys leading to his apartment. He was just back from a mission, too bone-weary even to greet friends, thinking only of a cool shower and soft bed.

 

And then Sasuke was there.

 

It happened so suddenly that Naruto couldn't tell if he'd been waiting for him in the shadowy side street, or trailing him from the market. Even with his enhanced night vision, it seemed like sleight of hand: now an empty space between two buildings, faintly lit by a neon hotel sign a hundred feet away; now a dark, predatory figure, seen under the light for the briefest moment before he was dragging Naruto into the little alley.

 

He stared into eyes he knew as well as his own dreams, flat black with the tiniest spark shimmering in their center, and wondered briefly if he was hallucinating. It was the voice that finally convinced him, prickling his spine as Sasuke spoke against his ear. “You're still weak.”

 

“Nice to see you too, asshole.” The words came out before he realized what he was saying, and he was rewarded with a faint smile. “How did you get in here? On a fucking Saturday night, no less?”

 

“Who do you think I am?” Sasuke smirked at him, leaning against the wall with a casual insouciance that was completely misleading—Naruto could feel every muscle in that hard body tensing like coiled springs. He was dressed in traditional fighting garb, his long sword tethered at his back, in marked contrast to Naruto's black t-shirt and pants.

 

“Do I look like I know?” Naruto's voice was bitter. “Who the fuck are you, Sasuke?” He'd spent years wondering what he'd say when they stood face to face, and none of the scenarios had looked like this. But suddenly all he could think of was the time wasted, the tears shed, the endless nightmares—the way he'd relived every minute he'd spent with Sasuke again and again and fucking again, pain stabbing like needles as he savagely rubbed his eyes in a vain attempt to erase the visions of his teammate, his brother, his friend.

 

Visions like this one. Because there was no way the Sasuke in front of him was real.

 

“What is it—genjutsu? Something you learned from your brother?” The shopping bag slipped from Naruto's fingers as he reached forward, only to have his bare arm grasped by a strong, calloused hand that felt elementally familiar.

 

“It's me.” The hand pulled him forward until he stumbled slightly, then moved swiftly to push him against the wall. Naruto twisted around, only to find himself caged between Sasuke's arms with their faces inches apart. “Don't fight me.”

 

“Don't—?” The bizarre request froze the words in his mouth; electric blue eyes locked with black ones that looked almost—pleading? With a start, he noticed how much older Sasuke looked; his face was drawn, all softness gone, emphasizing the stark beauty of his features.

 

“I think I've gone crazy, Naruto.” The words were so low he could hardly hear them, in spite of their proximity. He leaned forward and Sasuke spoke into his ear, his rough whisper sending tremors skittering through Naruto's body. “Since the spring, every night—“

 

He broke off as a wave of laughter echoed down the street. Naruto opened his mouth to question, to protest, to say something, and Sasuke promptly covered it with his own. The kiss was harsh, rough, demanding—and over way too soon. Sasuke's hips trapped him against the wall, his hands running over Naruto's face before twisting into his hair and pulling him forward again. Naruto's eyes closed as he savored the sensations, tongues dueling as his teammate ground into him with passionate urgency.

 

“I can't cut you away.” Sasuke's voice was anguished, his hands suddenly squeezing Naruto's neck until he gasped for air before sliding down to enfold his waist. “I can never have you, but I can't forget you, either.” He laughed softly. “You're just another room in my private hell, Naruto.”

 

Growling and locking his arms around Sasuke's neck, Naruto cut him off with a swift bite to his lower lip. He poured the desire and tenderness of six years of longing into their next kiss, not pulling away until they were both panting. “You think that bothers me?” he whispered. “Don't you know that I'd rather live in your hell than wait for you outside it?”

 

“I—“ Sasuke's nostrils flared and his body stiffened in Naruto's arms. They caught the faint whiff of the Hokage's chakra at almost the same moment.

 

“Damn it. In the bar,” Naruto breathed, as Sasuke whispered, “I have to go.” A second later, the fox ninja was alone in the alley with only spilled milk and crushed ramen for company.

 

The next morning, Naruto stared out the window of his apartment and wondered how Sasuke always got past his defenses. A faint smile played around his lips. More important, when would it happen again?

 

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A/N: Notes and comments please! My first yaoi, so please be gentle.