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The kitchen was a humid little haven of spice, steam, and soft curses. Naruto stood barefoot by the stove, sleeves rolled up, tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth in concentration as he stirred a pot of curry. The rice cooker beeped in the background, and the faint murmur of laughter echoed from the living room—his mom, Sasuke’s mom, Itachi, even Fugaku. All gathered. All cozy.
Meanwhile, Naruto was trying not to burn dinner and pretend he wasn’t being slowly seduced by his incredibly annoying and incredibly hot husband.
“You’re in my way,” Naruto muttered as strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind.
“I’m not. I’m your sous-chef,” Sasuke said against his neck, voice all smug velvet.
“You haven’t touched a single vegetable.”
“Touching you is more important.”
Naruto laughed, bright and unfiltered, shoulders shaking as Sasuke nosed at the curve of his throat and kissed it. Slowly. Lazily. Like they weren’t two steps away from a family intervention.
“Sasuke,” Naruto said, half a whine, “you’re literally nuzzling me like a cat. Our families are here!”
“And?”
“And what if someone sees us?” Naruto twisted to look at him, cheeks flushed, eyes soft, smile helpless.
“They already know I’m obsessed with you,” Sasuke said matter-of-factly, brushing his lips against Naruto’s again like he was just reconfirming the fact.
“You’re so annoying.” Naruto kissed him back, because of course he did. “God, I hate you.”
“Liar.”
“Okay fine, maybe I love you or whatever—”
Their mouths met again, warm and too long, because it always was too long with them. A slow, tender kind of grossness that made Konohamaru gag every time they forgot about personal space. Sasuke was still pressed to Naruto’s back, holding him like a lifeline and tasting his happiness between every kiss.
Until—
“Oh!”
Naruto jolted like he’d been electrocuted. His face went red.
Mikoto stood in the doorway, polite smile faltering into something politely awkward. “I… I just came to see if you boys needed help—”
Naruto stared at her, wide-eyed and choking on air. “Ahahaha! Haha… just… just taste-testing, y’know!”
Sasuke didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t let go.
He just smirked against Naruto’s neck like the cocky menace he was.
Naruto shot him a look. A look. One that screamed: “At least pretend to be normal while your mother is standing RIGHT THERE.”
But Sasuke? Oh no. He only tightened his arms, resting his chin on Naruto’s shoulder, still holding him like they were starring in a slow-burn romance movie.
Mikoto blinked. “Right… Well… everything smells delicious. Carry on.”
And she was gone—like the angel she was—before Naruto could combust.
As soon as she left, Naruto exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “You’re impossible.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
Sasuke kissed his cheek. “Desperately.”
Naruto groaned. “You’re lucky I’m already making your favorite.”
“And you’re lucky I’m already yours.”
Naruto snorted and bumped their hips together. “Now cut the damn onions like a real sous-chef before I divorce you in front of both our moms.”
Sasuke kissed his ear.
“I’d just marry you again.”
---
They never stopped flirting. Not when Naruto burned the second batch of dumplings. Not when Kushina caught them feeding each other like lovesick idiots. Not even when Fugaku grumbled something about “public displays of affection” and Mikoto giggled behind her tea.
They were disgusting. Hopeless. And everyone in the house knew:
Sasuke and Naruto were maddeningly, endlessly, stomach-churningly in love.
And honestly? It made dinner taste better. 💕
---
Dinner was a beautiful chaos.
Laughter ping-ponged between conversations, bowls clinked, chopsticks tapped, and every once in a while, someone yelled, “Pass the soy sauce!” from one end of the table to the other. Naruto had managed not to burn the curry (thanks to Sasuke’s distracting, unhelpful flirting), and everyone was full and happy and basking in the glow of too much food and way too much love in one room.
Which, of course, was when Itachi struck.
“So,” he said casually, sipping his tea, “do you two ever… not cling to each other?”
Naruto, curled up comfortably beside Sasuke on the floor cushions, raised an eyebrow. “You say that like you’re not jealous.”
Itachi chuckled, ever so smooth. “Jealous? Please. I chose to be single.”
Naruto grinned, cheeky and bright, leaning against Sasuke’s shoulder like a smug cat. “Still the same though, isn’t it? Chosen or not—you’re still single.”
Kushina howled with laughter, nearly dropping her chopsticks. “Oooohhh, he got you there, Itachi!”
Minato smiled politely, ever the peacekeeper, even as Itachi smirked and flicked a piece of edamame across the table at Naruto like a silent ‘watch it.’
Naruto just stuck out his tongue.
“You’re just mad you don’t have anyone to cook with and get smooched while makin’ dumplings,” Naruto added, throwing his arm around Sasuke dramatically. “My husband is hot and helps me in the kitchen. Suffer.”
Sasuke didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. He just gave Naruto a sideways glance—soft, heavy with adoration, like the kind of look you give someone when your whole world is standing right in front of the rice cooker.
And Kushina caught it.
She froze mid-chew, eyes sparkling. “Ahhh—Minato! He has your look!”
Minato blinked. “My what?”
“That look,” she said, jabbing her finger toward Sasuke. “The way Sasuke’s lookin’ at Naruto right now? That’s the same way you looked at me back in college!”
Minato laughed, rubbing the back of his head. “I mean… she’s not wrong.”
Mikoto leaned in with a smile, eyes glinting with memory. “It really is the same, now that you mention it.”
Fugaku even cracked a rare smirk. “The resemblance is uncanny.”
Naruto blinked, then turned to look at Sasuke—who was just sitting there, sipping his water like he hadn’t just been publicly exposed for loving his husband with his whole soul.
“You’re not denying it?” Naruto asked, nudging him with a grin.
Sasuke shrugged. “Why would I? You’re mine. I’m allowed to look.”
“Awwww,” Kushina gushed.
“Gross,” Itachi muttered, clearly regretting not leaving earlier.
“You’re just bitter,” Naruto teased again, practically glowing from all the attention and affection.
“And you’re insufferable,” Itachi replied, but he was smiling too.
Mikoto looked between them—Sasuke and Naruto, Minato and Kushina—and her heart squeezed in that nostalgic, bittersweet way that only comes when time folds in on itself. “They really are like you two,” she whispered to Minato. “Same fire. Same quiet devotion.”
Minato chuckled. “Let’s just hope they don’t elope in the middle of a thunderstorm like we did.”
“Oh no,” Naruto said quickly. “We had a planned wedding. And Sasuke cried.”
Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “That was one tear. One.”
“Still counts!” Naruto cackled.
And the table exploded with laughter again.
---
That night, when the dishes were done, and everyone had gone home, and the leftovers were tucked into Tupperware, Sasuke pulled Naruto into their shared bed and whispered, “They were right, by the way.”
“‘Bout what?” Naruto murmured, already sleepy.
“I do look at you like that. The same way your dad looks at your mom.”
Naruto smiled into the pillow, curling close. “Yeah. I know. I love it.”
“I love you.”
“Ugh, stop being so sweet, I’m gonna cry into this pillow and ruin my skin.”
Sasuke kissed the top of his head. “Cry all you want. I’ll still look at you like that.”
The End.