♥ From centimetre ♥
♥ From admiral_yen ♥
FUN SCANNED DOUJINSHI
夏色みかん (A summer colored mikan)
♥ From octavius_x♥ ♥
did you come to me or-- the page says, Naruto reading over his shoulder sniggers at the word "come". Sasuke shuts the book. It's one of his father's or Itachi's books that he brought with him from the old things at the compound, things he hasn't touched in years. Much of it was stored immediately after, still piled haphazardly by whatever wet-behind-the-ears jounin they had got to do it. He crouches down amid the larger furniture looking for something they might be able to use in their apartment, picking up one of the pillows he remembers from the living room. In the corner is a handmade cage Shisui had kept a garden snake in. He draws two eyes in the dust, a big mouth, hair. Naruto had brought over his bag of junk in two quick hauls that morning. It had mostly consisted of dirty laundry, comics, and a large biscuit tin that held an impressive collection of fortune cookie fortunes.
The lady at the room assignment office was an ancient bitch whose hair dye was perpetually a finger's width grown out. Naturally, she and Naruto would literally fight if they saw each other and she doesn't resist sniffing when Sasuke pens in "Uzumaki, Naruto" under roommate.
He's laying on the floor with his arm over his face when Naruto comes in, kicks his sandals off. The air inside is a little stale like mothballs. He'd been trying to read the poem from before but the heat made him sweat and stick to the floor. He hears the door of the fridge clatter then Naruto as he lays down next to him, puts his hand on Sasuke's stomach; this is still something almost new, the heavy intense weight of it pushing up his tank top. Sasuke forces his breathing even. Naruto presses his face under his shirt, puts his mouth on the bottom edge of his ribs. Moves down.
It doesn't happen so much now, the village being outright biased toward Naruto and he doesn't get so angry just stares them down. Sasuke still has his face in the crook of his elbow and doesn't look up, but they both know he's awake. When Naruto gets to his shorts, tugs the hem in question, Sasuke swallows thickly and nods once. Under his arm he can just make out the long plane of his own body tilted up into the other boy's lap. Muscles in his stomach tensing when Naruto wraps his arm around his waist and licks at the head of his dick. It's weird, it's so--so Naruto used to bite people in middle school as an attack--it's ridiculous. The room is almost completely empty other than some clothes hanging from wire hangers near the window, a bookshelf half-filled, the thrum of the refrigerator. In the end he hadn't decided on anything from the storage unit, just grabbed at the book so he could lie and have something to take back with him.
The heavy muscles in his thighs are shaking as he pulls Sasuke's hips up over his knees, puts two fingers in him. Sasuke makes a little helpless sound in his throat. His sweaty fingers catch the cellophane dust cover of the book. The sound is bright and crisp in the small room and just like that he comes.
"Hey," Naruto says a little breathless, tugging at Sasuke's arm on his face "Hey what are you reading?" He's still hard. Sasuke can feel his dick through his pants, but not impatient, just close, friendly. One of the clerks at the local convenience store has refused to ring-up Naruto. He'd just gone white under his tan and huffed and left Sasuke to do it. The clerk overcharges him, and Sasuke pays and then breaks his arm, grabbing his wrist as he pushes the change dish forward and pulling him bodily over the register, snapping the bone on the edge of the counter. It was a stupid thing to do, but no one tried to stop him when he walked out. Outside Naruto was running his hands through his hair his face a little wet. Sasuke gives him a look, nudges his shoulder says "They're fuckers. Move in with me."
Sasuke dog-ears one page from that book. It reads:
or did I come to you I
cannot now recall
♥ From bellicosus ♥
♥ From sarolynne ♥
In the history of bad ideas Sasuke had had in his life, this one didn't break the top ten. Possibly not even the top twenty. He swallowed hard, accepting that this was more of a statement on his decision making skills than any kind of reassurance that this wasn't a terrible, terrible idea.
However, if he survived starting a war, he could survive this.
He almost laughed at that thought, nervous and nonsensical. Good fuck, what was his life.
Drawing a deep breath and every shred of dignity he could muster, he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, lifted his chin and walked into the next room with a composed face and all the dubious confidence of a kunoichi on her first seduction mission. It was an apt comparison.
Naruto sat up when Sasuke entered. One moment, he was slumped on the couch waiting impatiently, the next he was bolt upright. Sasuke could see the exact instant that things sunk into Naruto's brain. His brows bunched up over the bridge of his nose. He opened his mouth just a little, then closed it, and puffed up his cheeks. Sasuke's own cheeks heated a little. It was probably invisible; he'd used a heavy hand with the powder. He expected Naruto to start asking questions next. Or maybe he would laugh. Or maybe he would just leave. He tamped down mercilessly on the urge to touch his face or his hair, kept his hands folded neatly in front of him while he waited for that final reaction.
Naruto stood slowly, the look of confusion still on his face, but he didn't leave. He took a step closer instead. Uncertainly, he studied Sasuke. His eyes flew all over, taking in everything—the shiny red lips and black rimmed eyes, the long fake lashes, thin silk slip, white sweetheart corset, white stockings. Sasuke had tried to tease his hair into something resembling a finger wave, but it was a losing battle. It did what it was going to do, regardless of his best efforts. Naruto took it all in, circling him slowly.
Sasuke closed his eyes, awaiting judgment.
"Ah…" Naruto cleared his throat. Sasuke refused to allow his heart to escape through his mouth, willed it back where it ought to be. "So…"
"What do I call you?" he asked, startling Sasuke's eyes open and turning his head. Naruto rushed to add, "I mean! You don't really look like a Sasuke like this, you know?"
Sasuke felt something that he didn't even have a name for, something he wouldn't have let himself feel under other circumstances at all. It washed through him and left things better: everything, the world, himself, this terrible idea.
"It doesn't matter," he said softly, keeping his voice light. Girlish.
A nervous smile flashed across Naruto's face. "Of course it does. I have to call you something… "
He reached out tentatively and touched Sasuke's cheek. His touch was careful, fingers in Sasuke's hair, thumb touching his skin lightly. He experimented, brushing the pad of his thumb lightly against Sasuke's lower lip. Sasuke nearly protested, but he didn't rub, didn't smudge his carefully applied lipstick, just touched.
"Miss," Naruto said, then he nodded. "If you won't tell me your name, I'll call you miss."
"Shouldn't I?" A note of anxiety crept into Naruto's voice. They were both on unfamiliar ground here, and it showed.
"No, it's fine," Sasuke said after a moment. His throat felt so tight. "I like it."
Naruto flushed and licked his lips. Sasuke wondered if he'd done something wrong, but only briefly, before Naruto set his other hand on Sasuke's waist. He'd done up the corset tight to force it in and create the illusion of curves, of girlish hips and slight cleavage. He wasn't used to the restriction, and the sensation of someone touching the heavily structured garment was strange. It reminded him of the shape he was in now. He released a ragged breath.
A hard on, barely contained by thin panties, was going to spoil that illusion he'd worked so hard to create, but it wasn't a reaction he could stop. All Naruto had done was touch his cheek, touch his waist, but Sasuke's reaction was immediate.
He tried to step back, to get control of himself again. "Excuse me, I…"
"No, it's okay!" Naruto protested suddenly, pulling Sasuke back. His blue eyes seemed darker than usual. His hands were rougher than necessary. He brought Sasuke back to him, closer than before.
His mouth was open slightly, like he was trying to catch his breath and couldn't, the idiot. "It'll spoil things."
Naruto laughed nervously. "That's not going to spoil anything."
The two of them stood facing each other then, only inches between their bodies, and neither of them quite sure what to do. Sasuke wasn't sure, at least. That was another thing he didn't normally let himself feel. How could he be uncertain? But he wasn't quite himself right now, and he didn't know what to do or how to respond. He'd meant to come out of the bathroom as a girl, and now this… was not particularly feminine. Was it?
Laughing again, Naruto suddenly flashed a smile. "How could that spoil anything?"
He licked his lips again. No, Sasuke thought, he wasn't the only one uncertain. But Naruto was going through with it anyway.
"It's your pussy, right?" He stumbled over that word a little, said it a little too quick, but he said it with conviction.
Sasuke stared at him. What was this idiot saying? Sasuke's cock was half slipping out of the flimsy silk panties he'd stupidly thought might contain it, and he was talking about pussies?
"You think something like that is going to spoil the mood for me? Pussies are always good. I mean, I'm a guy, right?"
"Pervert," Sasuke said.
"I… like it," Naruto echoed Sasuke's earlier sentiment.
Something fluttered in Sasuke's chest, in his stomach, where it was a small unexamined miracle that it had room to move around. His cock jerked. Even barefoot, Sasuke was taller than Naruto, and no narrower through the shoulders, but the way Naruto looked at him made him feel small in a good way—as though it were something he were allowed to be, small, unsure, lost.
Naruto leaned in, gaining confidence. He brushed his mouth against Sasuke's cheek. "I like it," he repeated again, more forcefully. Sasuke felt his breath carrying the words across his skin. "Because it's your pussy. It's cute."
What was this idiot even saying. Did he realize how he sounded?
Apparently he did not, or if he did, he didn't care. His hand traveled down the artificial curve of Sasuke's hip, his thigh, to the hem of his slip. It traveled back up under the skirt, knuckles dragging up Sasuke's leg. "…Let me…?"
Sasuke was shaking. Why was he shaking?
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Naruto traced the shape of his erection through his panties, the back of his fingers moving lightly over his cock. He kissed beneath Sasuke's ear. "I think you're wet, miss."
It was so ridiculous, Sasuke almost laughed. Almost. What came out was a breathy sigh, not quite a grunt. He slide his arms over Naruto's shoulders, hanging on as Naruto teased him. "Do you feel wet?"
Naruto's hand stroked, but didn't take him. He was exploring the shape of Sasuke's cock, of his balls, of the way they pulled his panties sideways, drawing the elastic taut and making the silk bunch and bulge. "You shaved, so you must have expected this, huh? That's I'd play with your pussy."
He'd shaved because it was awkward having hair poking out of his panties. But here was Naruto, feeling his way around down there.
"I asked if you felt wet." He turned his hand to cup Sasuke's cock. "You didn't answer. You do, don't you?"
He didn't sound quite as sure as before.
Sasuke thought about pushing him away. He could storm back into the bathroom now, take a shower and call this all a mistake. There was a part of him that was saying that was the right thing to do. Then he wouldn't have to feel so out of place and vulnerable. He wouldn't have to feel anything at all. He did think about it.
"Yes," he said, looking away. Admitting it—did it count as admitting it when it wasn't true?—released one kind of tension that had been building up in him, but it wound something else so tightly it could snap. He couldn't face Naruto with this heat filling him, when Naruto was making him squirm inside, in some place he didn't know he'd had.
Even without looking, he could sense the relief that went through Naruto. His confidence came back. He started stroking Sasuke.
He started talking again.
"I guess that kind of thing is hard for a good girl to admit, huh, miss?"
And he stroked.
And Sasuke panted, leaning back against the apartment wall, bringing Naruto with him.
"You've been a good girl for a long time, huh—or maybe you're just trying to be. You're awful wet, and I don't think a good girl would let someone finger her in the living room. With the curtains open and everything."
The corset wouldn't let Sasuke arch his back, not like he wanted to. He pressed his shoulders against the wall, pressing his hips into Naruto's hand.
"It's hot. You're hot."
"Naruto…" He didn't tell him to shut up, though.
Naruto kept murmuring. Sasuke kept listening. "Do you want me to open you up?" he asked, at odds with how his hand squeezed Sasuke's cock, the dry friction of his palm. "Feel me inside of you?"
Sasuke turned his face back toward him. Whatever he expected, it wasn't what he saw. Naruto's face was red with arousal, his eyes glassy. There was an intensity in his expression that Sasuke hadn't heard in his voice. And whatever he had intended to say, he lost the train of thought meeting Naruto's eyes. "Do you want that, miss?" he asked, and Sasuke couldn't find it ridiculous, even if it was.
He pulled Naruto in by the hair, taking a fistful of it and guiding him so their mouths met. Their kiss was as unskilled and desperate as the rest of this encounter. Like Naruto's attempt at dirty talk. Like Sasuke's attempt at being someone else. Like this rough, and soon to be short handjob. Sasuke rushed into it, mashing their lips together, inevitably smearing his lipstick. Naruto faltered at first, then found his place in it, finding a pace, and how to turn his head.
They were still kissing when Sasuke came. Abrupt, uncomfortable, aching for breath, and yet somehow glorious. He clung to Naruto through the aftermath, hiding his face against Naruto's neck.
"This is why I love you," he said softly, half hoping Naruto wouldn't even hear it. "Even if you are an idiot."
"I love you too… miss."
♥ From myrafur ♥
♥ From ronsard ♥
Riffraff, Street Rat, I Don’t Buy That
In all his career scaling the sides of buildings to evade the authority, Naruto reflected, crouching precariously at the edge of a balcony, he had failed to acquire the crucial skills to fend off an advancing tiger. He contemplated how much it would hurt if he threw himself aside at the exact moment the beast lunged, and was calculating impact and the possibility he might crush his spine when the gauzy curtains fluttered and a low, familiar voice said, “Come, Kankuro.”
In the gleaming splendor of the palace Gaara was all kohl-rimmed eyes and whispery silk, so chillingly beautiful it knocked the breath from your ribs—but Naruto felt he preferred the princess as he had seen him for the first time in the teeming crush of the old bazaar, a snatch of too-pale skin and luminous green eyes threatening to eviscerate a fruit vendor. He quickly reminded himself to abandon such street-urchiny thoughts and adopt a more princely mode of thinking, as the tiger padded away, licking its chops and growling.
“Hey,” he said, and immediately felt stupid. “Um, I mean—good evening, princess. It’s a beautiful night, and I thought we could, uh… talk… and…”
Gaara flicked him a contemptuous glance, a mere ghost of the piercing look the Wind Kingdom’s renowned desert bloom had given Naruto when he had extended his hand and asked for that first leap of faith. He ran his fingers through the soft fur behind the tiger’s ear, the heavy gold bracelets on his thin arms jangling in the quiet of the night.
“How did you get up here?”
“Uh,” Naruto prevaricated. “Climbed?”
“Depending on your answer, I could have you arrested or just let Kankuro eat you on the spot,” Gaara said coldly. “For all I know, you could be an assassin sent by Father’s enemies—it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve received unwelcome visitors of that sort.”
“What?” Naruto boggled. “No. I don’t—I don’t know anything about that. I always make my own way in the world.”
“How?” Gaara repeated, in the same inflectionless tone from before.
It didn’t take a genius to tell he was crashing and burning pretty hard out there. It was all very surreal, everything from the crazy old man to the Cave of Wonders to whatever obscene cosmic joke had led him here, making an ass of himself trying to impress some sociopathic sultan’s daughter who might or might not be pining for his other self.
“Okay, you really want to know?”
“Like this,” he said, and casually stepped off the balcony railing.
“What?” Naruto shouted, popping his head back over the railing to the sight of Gaara’s face, somehow even paler than usual, eyes wide in alarm. “Relax,” he said, suppressing an ungentlemanly chuckle. “I was just getting my magic carpet.”
The carpet swerved and dipped under him, performed some fancy moves before coming to hover beside the princess, lifting his hand for a kiss. Naruto had the deep suspicion that Jiraiya was behind this behavior—and if that was the case, he was certain the genie would be thrilled to learn that he was planning to give the old lamp a brutal scrub-down to get rid of all the dust and grime it had collected over the last ten thousand years at his earliest convenience.
“Want to go for a ride? We can get out of the palace. See the world.”
Gaara seemed conflicted, but helplessly charmed. “Is that safe?” he asked, displaying an astounding amount of reservation for someone who hadn’t the slightest qualm about pole-vaulting over a thirty-foot drop. Naruto gave his best shit-eating grin.
He said, “Do you trust me?” which seemed like a stupid question since Gaara probably didn’t know what trusting even meant. “I promise I’m not an assassin.”
There was a long moment, in which they just looked at each other, and before he knew it the princess was a comforting weight beside him on the carpet and they were soaring into the sky, slipping through it like water. The city glittered with light beneath them, receding into tiny bright dots as gusts of desert wind roared past, slick and sweet and hotter than hot in a lot of good ways.
Naruto laughed, clutching the edge of the tapestry. “Okay, now this is what I’m talking about.”
Gaara gave him a sideway look. “Didn’t you say you always wanted to fly, Naruto?” he said in a strangely light voice.
“Yeah,” he sighed, totally dreamy, and almost kicked himself. “I mean--” He put his face in his hand. “Oh, crap.”
They were flying over the western canyon, the solid barrier of rock famous for its red and gold beauty under a fading sun, but all he could think was that if Gaara pushed him off the carpet now the canyon would soon be famous as the resting place of the princess’s latest (failed) suitor.
“I knew it,” Gaara said, eyes narrowing. “You’re not really Prince Uzumaki from a Far East kingdom, are you?”
“Yes I am!” Naruto said, and only loathed himself a little. Even though he hated lying and hated the way it came so naturally to him even more, he never again wanted to experience the sudden awing hollowness that had sucked him under when he had learned that Gaara was a princess—so distant from the world Naruto inhabited he might as well be a star in this endless diamond sky.
That first wish had left his mouth easier than a breath, like he had never wanted—never even known to want anything else.
“Why did you lie to me?” Gaara asked, and sounded hurt, which was just completely insane. "I thought you were dead."
“I didn’t mean to,” Naruto argued. “It’s just—look, I sometimes dress as a commoner to escape the pressure of palace life and stuff… you know, just like some other royals I could name.”
Gaara fell silent. Naruto shifted, and was acutely aware that the air had gone colder and he could feel Gaara’s body heat warm at his side. “So, you’re kind of a night owl, huh?” he said stupidly.
“I don’t sleep much,” Gaara said, distant in a way that made Naruto want to reach out and reel him back in. “When I was five, a man scaled up the balcony to my bedroom and tried to take me. It must have been the early hours of the morning. He only got as far as the garden before the palace guards caught up with us, but ever since, I have found it difficult to find rest at night.”
Something cold and horrible came to settle in Naruto’s chest. He noticed the change of shadow on the princess’s face. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve received unwelcome visitors of that sort.
“My father had his head put on a spike next day,” Gaara went on, in the same faraway voice. “It’s strange if you think about it. I don’t really remember much about that night. I saw the knife, but not all of it since it was held to my throat.” He paused. “There was a lot of moonlight.”
Naruto grabbed his shoulders and turned Gaara to face him. “I will never,” he said, “ever let that happen to you again.”
Gaara stared at him wearily. “I don’t think that’s anything for you to worry about.”
Naruto set his jaw in a line. “Even so.”
“What is it like?” Gaara asked. “Where you come from—what is it like?”
The question came at him completely out of left field, and it took Naruto a moment to process it. At the age of seven he had crossed the ocean and never looked back after his foster parents had sold him for five pieces of silver. If anything he had done the slavers a favor by escaping—he would have made a terrible slave, probably even worse than the snooty black-haired kid who had shared his cell and who had turned out to be the runaway son of a local magistrate. The ship had nearly sailed when his brother showed up to bail him out. The sight of them riding away rinsed clean of the squalid muck of life’s uglier side had made Naruto feel so foolish, because he had actually pitied the brat with his lily white unsuited-for-day-labor hands. Suddenly, being sold into the human trade seemed like a blessing in disguise. He hated Nihon then.
“Green,” he said finally. “I lived—uh, live near a forest, and there’s a pond nearby and everything’s just… green. The trees are green and the rocks are covered in moss and the water—water always makes sounds, did you know? Out there, you can’t keep water still.”
Those were the things he missed the most, green and the sound of running water. The Wind Kingdom had its own color scheme, salt rose and topaz, and the desert was full of sounds and shapes but the only green for miles around was the otherworldly luminance of Gaara’s eyes: a color that triumphed over the smooth somnolence of the desert, a hint of exquisiteness in a nation of sands and tombs.
The sky was an empty hush. “Your home sounds lovely,” the princess whispered. “I would love to visit it someday.”
“Why not right now?”
“What?” Gaara said, eyes rounding.
Naruto cocked his head. “This is a magic flying carpet, you know.” He lowered his voice to say, “Just for one night,” knowing so painfully well it would never ever be enough.
So before he could do something really idiotic like ‘fessing up to everything and begging Gaara to run away with him, Naruto leaned forward and peeled back Gaara’s jewel-edged scarf to kiss his burning mouth. Without guidance, the carpet continued to glide through the night, now passing over swallowing waves like a silent ship sailing for the rolling forests of his homeland.
♥ From red_rahl ♥
♥ From erisabesu ♥
Naruto rounds the corner to the apartment block at half past seven, drenched in sweat from a long and tiring jog. He takes a moment to catch his breath before going inside, bent over with hands braced on his knees, veins and heart still throbbing overtime. It’s a glorious feeling. He stretches out his hamstrings and quads in the stairway, and then opens and closes the front door quietly, moving on tip-toes down the hall to check on Sai, who has been stubbornly locked in his studio for the past few days working on some sort of ink project, apparently in danger of not meeting the deadline for his next show.
Naruto slides the studio door open enough to see the back of a canvas on Sai’s easel, Sai furiously working a brush over it with an expression of great concentration. Relieved that Sai seems to be alive and not passed out from artistic frenzy, he pads down the hall to the shower, stripping off his clothes and discarding them all along the way.
The hot water feels so good, but Naruto doesn’t linger too long. He can’t remember the last time Sai ate, which is rather troubling. He definitely doesn’t want to find him passed out again. Naruto shakes the water from his hair and gives his body a cursory rubdown with a towel before tucking it around his hips. He goes back to the studio and risks opening the door just enough to let Sai know he’s there.
“Hey, can I interrupt a sec?”
Sai’s brush stops, his two serious black eyes fixing right on Naruto’s. Naruto tenses, knowing how touchy Sai can get when he’s got his creative groove going. He hopes he didn’t just make a huge mistake.
“Sorry, uh, just wondered if you wanted me to get you some ramen or something.”
Sai crosses the room in an instant, grabs Naruto around the shoulders and jumps up, legs wrapping tightly around Naruto’s waist. Naruto braces his feet on reflex just in time for Sai’s lips to find his.
“Mmmm, mmm,” Sai moans, burying his ink-stained hands in Naruto’s hair. “Just what I was hungry for…”
Naruto doesn’t question the unexpected turn of events, and neither does his cock. He does turn them to lean more comfortably against the studio wall, Sai arching his body as close to Naruto’s as possible, Naruto’s hands gripping his ass. Then it’s all mouths and tongues and heated breaths.
Sai nips the corner of Naruto’s jaw, and unhooks his legs to slide down Naruto’s torso to the floor, hands running up the front of Naruto’s thighs. Naruto snaps the towel free from his body dramatically and tosses it to the side without caring where it lands, then he closes his eyes abruptly as Sai gets straight to it.
Oh yes yes yes yessss, he thinks, Sai’s tongue working over every inch of him.
Then, from somewhere nearby: “AHEM.”
Naruto’s eyes pop open. Sai’s mouth pops open.
“So this is what you two do when I’m not here.”
Naruto would recognize that arrogant, impatient tone anywhere. He cranes his neck to see the far left side of the room where a dark haired man reclines, chin resting on one hand, expression very annoyed.
“Sasuke!” Naruto’s voice rises an octave. “W-w-when did you get home?!”
Sasuke gets up from Sai’s modeling divan in one smooth motion, drapes of silk falling away from his nude body. He stalks closer and closer, aware of and yet completely unashamed of his hardon. Sai curls around Naruto’s leg and watches Sasuke approach, licking his lips.
Sasuke stops right in front of them, placing both hands on the wall to cage Naruto’s head—and his attention.
“Just what kind of a moron goes on a jog for more thanfour hours?”
Naruto gulps, eyes transfixed by the taunting curve of Sasuke’s smirk.
“That long, huh…” Naruto’s voice trails off, reading in Sasuke’s eyes every single naughty and delicious thing they could have been doing if he’d only run a few times faster.
Sasuke leans in so close Naruto can feel the heat of his skin, so close that he knows exactlywhat Sai is doing when Sasuke’s shoulders tense and his eyelids flutter closed. Naruto salivates, the serpentine hiss of Sasuke’s obvious pleasure sending prickles of goose flesh across his whole body.
Sasuke opens his eyes long enough to whisper, “You’re really the biggest moron on the planet,” and Naruto takes the time to whisper back, “But you still waited for me,” before he shuts Sasuke up the best way he knows how.
If Sai’s kisses are liquid sex then Sasuke’s kisses are smoldering embers. Naruto shudders, fingers digging into Sasuke’s back, legs threatening to give out. Sai gazes up at them, appraising, hands moving from Sasuke’s hips to Naruto’s thighs. Then he stands up and takes Sasuke’s mouth for himself, drinking deep, leaning his body backward into Naruto’s hips and pulling Sasuke in even tighter.
Naruto stares at the men kissing so passionately in front of him, always so fascinated by the strange and unlikely—if undoubtedly compatible—combination. Sai rocks his hips harder into Naruto’s cock, and by the accumulated chafing from Sai’s workpants Naruto realizes there’s no sense in Sai having clothes on at all. Of course, in his haste to get Sai as naked as possible, he slips on the towel he dropped earlier and pulls the other two down to the tatami flooring in a sprawl.
Sasuke rolls his eyes, but none of them are deterred. Consecutive away missions and the upcoming gallery exhibition have kept them apart for far too long.
The studio is a wreck by the time their lust has finally run its course, the three of them splotched with crimson, sepia, and midnight inks, all of it ground indelibly into the tatami and imprinted on their skin. Naruto lies there somewhere in the middle of all the mess, a sleepy grin pulling his mouth off-center, Sai’s head resting on his stomach, Sasuke’s fingers twined with theirs.
Naruto chokes on his champagne later at Sai’s opening reception when he sees all four ruined tatami mats hung on an enormous wall for all to see—every thrust, every smear, every trace of every sexual act three men can commit together in the course of one night.
He’s still sputtering and wiping his mouth with his sleeve when Sasuke comes over, taking his empty glass and warning him with a single look not to say a word. They turn in unison to lock gazes with Sai, who smiles in that practiced, infuriating way, as he raises his champagne glass in salute.