Work Text:
Sai speaks his mind, that's for sure. It gets him in trouble, especially with the girls, but he makes you laugh, so is it really that bad? You know that when he talks, he's telling the truth, even if it's hurtful sometimes. And you can see that he cares, deep down; he's trying his best to show it, even if it's a little awkward.
Juugo is kind, strong, dependable. Sure, sometimes he flies into a rage--he can't help it, though, and it's obvious that he's trying his best. He's too powerful for his own good, but you like that about him. You like that with all of his power, he's placing his trust in you. He believes in you, he'd do anything for you, even if he could break all your bones with one hand (not that he'd try. Not that you'd let him).
Sometimes, you catch yourself staring at him. That dark, slithery hair; that pale, pale skin; hands better suited for a paintbrush than a sword, though he's wielded both far more times than either of you could count. He's thin enough that you can count his bones, especially with that ridiculous (gorgeous) crop top he wears. He's ever so slightly shorter than you, knowledge that fills you with satisfaction whenever you remember it. And sometimes, when you stare at him, you catch him staring back.
Sometimes, you want him so badly you can hardly bear it. (Maybe this is how Karin feels, when she gets that awful blush looking at you.) You want him to grab you, crush you, overpower you with that gentle, steady love. You want to corner him one day, to drop all your clothes and demand that he look, touch, feel. (You want him to hold you close, comfort you like the child you are as you cry on his shoulder--no, stop, you can't go down that path.)
You treat him to ramen.
You tell Suigetsu and Karin to get lost.
He smiles, and you talk and laugh, and you walk him home. He's surprised when you lean in to kiss him goodnight, but he's pleased, looking (ever so slightly) up at you like you hang the sun in the sky. He asks you if you want to come in, to stay a while, and you agree. He locks the door behind you.
You spend all of five minutes trying to decide what to do, how to say it, until you remember that he'd do anything you ask of him. "Stop me if you're uncomfortable," you say, before sitting on his lap. When you kiss him, he smiles into it, and when his arms tighten around you like you knew (hoped) they would, your heart races.
When you wake up, the moon is shining through the window.
When you wake up, the sun is rising in your eyes.
Sai drapes his arms over your shoulders sleepily, his chest pressed against your back and his arms tangled by your necklace. "Come back to bed," he complains, and you turn your head to kiss his cheek gently. "In a minute," you say, and he shrugs and falls back down on the mattress. You look at the moon again, and you swear it's glaring back at you. Wrong, it says. He's the wrong one.
Juugo's still asleep, his arms wrapped around you in a crushing grip. You have to fight just to sit up, shoving his arms down until he's wrapped around your waist instead. The light of the morning sun catches on his hair--too long, and the wrong color. You look blearily as the sun rises in full color: yellows, oranges, pinks, reds, all bright and harsh against your eyes. Wrong, it says, and you nearly flinch from the force of it.
"Sasuke," you whisper, as if in a dream.
"Naruto," you breathe, the name wrenched from your throat.