Work Text:
He punches you in the face and you stumble backwards, your head hitting the wall behind you. In a second you feel his hands around your neck, like tree branches, pointy and foreign. There’s blood on your tongue and fire burning your lips from the inside, like a hundred little ants crawling through your skin. You wish for something cold, for something soft, but you find yourself looking at a black vacuum, blinking back.
“Miss me?”, you ask and he doesn’t like it, you can notice. He hates you, or tries to, and his scrunched-up nose and his trembling mouth tell you so. For a second you yearn for another punch. Instead, he kisses you, just like you fight. It hurts, and the burning in your mouth doesn’t stop, but you get distracted by something else, something fiercer than a fist, and softer than a caress.
“Shut the fuck up, Naruto,” he barks, and even though you can’t see them, you can hear the tears in his voice, you can feel them in his kiss.
You tangle your fingers in his hair and pull, kissing him deeper, desperate even. The time is running, like water down a mountain, and the need for more, for eternity, yanks inside your ribcage.
You push him away, and then kick him in the stomach. He drops to his knees, and that’s the moment you choose to put your hand on his jaw and crouch in front of him.
“You owed me,” you declare, like a whisper over his skin. He takes a deep breath and smiles.
“Of course I do, I always win.”
In that position he looks like he’s praying, worshiping you, hoping for your blue eyes to send a glance his way. You kneel as well, and with a delicacy unknown for both, you start a new kiss. Pure and sincere, like the first ray of sunshine on a spring morning; then a dark force devours your gentleness, making you fight again, stab each other just to feel closer to your hearts. Sasuke pushes you until he’s on top, bites you until there’s blood and there are red and angry kisses marks all over your face and chest.
Your bones cry out for him, and you let them break under his touch. How cruel it is all, you think, how cruel love can get.
As a candle flame, a soft breeze blows you off, the smoke drifting through the air, and when you blink again the night sky smiles at you from above. Your fingers seek his fingers, but what you come across is his sword. You gasp, without wanting to, trying to keep down the hysterical sobs threatening to reach out your teeth.
“Why do you always leave me?” You say instead, refusing to search his eyes, to see yourself in them again. Everything hurts, and at the same time, nothing does.
“We know we aren’t like that”, he says, crouching to your side, a single finger tracing your profile, like a ghost getting ready to disappear.
“Jerk.”
He’s gone by sunrise, and you reach the inn with the feeling of his mouth on your neck and the tremor of your skin yelling for him. Your lips burn still, and your hands feel the whisper of his hair, a black ocean to dip yourself into.
How cruel love can be.