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It starts like it always does: too fast, too loud and, too fucking high.
Sasuke’s not even that surprised anymore.
The screaming comes from somewhere behind him— glass shattering, tires screeching and he doesn’t even turn around. He already knows what it is. The whole block has frozen, people ducking behind cars, sheltering inside shopfronts. Sasuke just exhales and keeps walking. A bit briskly, maybe. Not because he’s nervous. Just practical. He’s got class in twenty minutes and he’s not planning on missing his lit seminar just because some thug thinks a daylight robbery is a smart idea.
He hears the telltale fwip in the air above him.
And then, “There’s my favorite guy!”
Sasuke doesn’t stop walking. He keeps his arms folded, his shoulders tight, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He can already feel the burn of heat prickling beneath his cheeks.
“You’re late,” he says flatly, still walking.
“Aw, c’mon, babe,” Spider-Man groans dramatically, swinging in a wide arc to loop in front of him, backpedaling through the air in that annoyingly show off way he always does, one hand keeping a casual line anchored somewhere out of view. “You didn’t even look up. That hurts.”
“Maybe if you didn’t announce your presence like a damn siren every time,” Sasuke mutters.
“But then how would you know to look?” Spider-Man lands, crouching low, mask tilted up toward him with something like a grin behind the fabric. He’s wearing the suit again, red and black today, the sleeker one that hugs him tighter than the old design. It stretches in ways that Sasuke tries not to pay attention to. Which is difficult, considering how smug the idiot is when he knows Sasuke is looking.
Especially with the way he’s posed, thighs tense and balanced on his toes like he’s asking to be ogled.
Sasuke scowls and finally stops walking.
“Is this gonna take long?”
“Not if you let me carry you,” Spider-Man says immediately, standing up straight and already reaching out with both hands.
“No.”
“C’mon. You know you want to. Let me be your knight in tight spandex.”
“You’re not carrying me,” Sasuke deadpans. “Last time, you held me like a sack of laundry.”
“Romantic laundry,” Naruto corrects under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” he says brightly, reaching for his wrist instead. “But I am getting you out of here. There’s guys with guns behind you and I already webbed one to a dumpster. Let’s go before the rest catch up.”
Sasuke sighs and lets himself be pulled in.
He ends up tucked against Naruto’s chest anyway, one arm looped under his legs, the other across his back. His shirt rides up slightly at the waist, and Naruto’s suit is cool against his skin, smooth where it presses into him. The way Naruto looks down at him from behind that mask, head tilted slightly, dumb little tilt to his chin makes Sasuke’s stomach flutter against his will.
“Don’t say it,” Sasuke warns.
“Say what?”
“You’re about to say something gross.”
Naruto makes a scandalized noise and leaps, just as gunshots crack behind them. Sasuke’s heart jumps with it, less from the danger and more from the feeling of wind tearing past his ears, from the grip of those arms tightening around him, from the way Naruto laughs midair like this is all the best part of his day.
“You wound me,” Naruto says, voice too close to his ear. “You know I’m all class.”
Sasuke rolls his eyes, but his hands curls tighter around Naruto’s shoulder anyway, clinging harder when they swerve between buildings. He hears himself breathe in sharply and he can tell Naruto’s beaming behind the mask.
“You like that,” Naruto teases.
“I do not.”
“You do. You’re blushing.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. I can feel the heat through the suit. You’re like a little space heater.”
Sasuke scowls and tilts his head back enough to glare at him.
“Shut up and take me home.”
“Oh?” Naruto chirps, already swinging again. “So we’re skipping class today?”
Sasuke opens his mouth, then closes it. He doesn’t really have a rebuttal to that, considering Naruto has actually skipped his molecular bio lecture for a side gig catching pigeons off someone’s balcony.
Not that Sasuke would ever say it aloud, but he likes when Naruto cuts class. Mostly because he gets to hear the ranting afterwards. When Naruto’s pacing around his apartment in a hoodie and sweatpants, glasses low on his nose, clutching his notes like they personally offended him. “How is this fair?” he always mutters. “You’re gonna help me study, right?” Like it wasn’t his own fault. He’s brilliant with the science side of things— anatomy, chemistry, genetic theory, but anything else, anything too math related or historical?
He’s fucked. Sasuke has seen him label a Venn diagram as a flowchart and defend it like his life depended on it.
It’s… kind of endearing.
“Just drop me off behind the library,” Sasuke says eventually, his voice softening as he watches the skyline. “I’ll still make it.”
Naruto doesn’t respond right away. The wind rushes by them, his grip steady and close. Sasuke’s pressed against his chest, his legs loose in Naruto’s arms. Naruto still smells like deodorant and detergent, somehow, even after chasing criminals for two hours.
When they land behind the library steps, Naruto lets him go gently, steadying him when his boots hit the pavement. Sasuke adjusts his jacket and glances up.
“I’ll see you later,” he says casually. “Don’t be late.”
“Wait—” Naruto stops him, fingers curling around Sasuke’s wrist.
Sasuke blinks, surprised. Naruto tilts his head.
“Can I get a kiss?”
Sasuke stares.
“You’re wearing a mask.”
“I can lift it,” Naruto says innocently, already tugging at the edge with two fingers.
“You’re so—”
Naruto laughs and steps closer, slotting himself against Sasuke’s chest easily, letting Sasuke’s back press into the alley wall. The sound of traffic mutes behind the brick. Naruto is looking up at him now, like always, warm and cocky and utterly ridiculous.
“You like it,” he says again, softer now. “You always like it.”
Sasuke doesn’t move.
Then, slowly, he grabs the edge of the mask himself and lifts it just enough to reveal Naruto’s mouth. There’s a smile there, crooked and familiar, and Sasuke leans down to kiss him.
It’s soft at first. Just a press of lips. Chaste.
Then Naruto makes a noise, a small, surprised little hum and Sasuke can’t help it. He kisses deeper, mouth parting, one hand braced on Naruto’s chest, the other curling in the fabric of the suit. He feels Naruto grin into it, cocky and pleased, and then those hands are back on his waist, squeezing gently like he wants to drag Sasuke closer.
Their bodies press together, warmth traded between them, and Sasuke’s breath stutters slightly. Naruto’s mouth is warm, open, and insistent now. Sasuke lets it happen, lets himself be kissed and held and leaned into until he’s flush against the wall, until Naruto’s hand is sliding just beneath the edge of his jacket, palm dragging over bare skin at his hip.
He pulls back with a breath.
Naruto looks dazed. His lips are kiss swollen and pink. There’s the barest tremble in his fingertips where they linger on Sasuke’s side.
“Sas,” he says, low and needy.
Sasuke swallows. His cheeks are still warm.
“Go patrol or whatever,” Sasuke says, managing to keep his voice steady as he adjusts himself and steps back. “You’re annoying.”
Naruto just watches him go, eyes blown wide behind the mask.
And Sasuke knows. He knows Naruto’s going to show up on his fire escape window tonight, glasses fogged from the cold, hoodie barely hanging onto one shoulder, and that dumb, flushed face asking if he can come in like he doesn’t already have a key. Sasuke’s going to pretend to be annoyed, but he’ll already have the kettle on.
He always does.
It’s late when Naruto shows up again, like Sasuke predicted.
There’s the soft thump of shoes on his balcony. Sasuke’s curled up on his couch, reading something he’s barely focused on for the last hour, already dressed in a loose shirt and sweatpants. The sliding door creaks open, and Naruto steps in.
He’s not in the suit anymore. Just the hoodie and joggers, hair damp from a shower, skin flushed from the wind.
Sasuke doesn’t say anything as he tosses a towel over Naruto’s head.
“Welcome back.”
Naruto mumbles a thanks through the towel and peels it off, grinning as he walks over to flop down beside him on the couch. His glasses are lopsided. His foot kicks Sasuke’s as he gets comfortable.
“I caught a guy trying to mug someone on 5th,” he says, tugging Sasuke closer until their thighs touch. “He screamed when I dropped from the roof. Like—full soprano. Real impressive.”
Sasuke hums.
“I got interviewed on the way home,” he says, flipping a page in his book he wasn’t reading. “Some news reporter asked what it was like being Spider-Man’s damsel in distress.”
Naruto snorts, face buried against Sasuke’s neck now.
“You are,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you saved under that in my phone.”
“I will throw you into traffic.”
Naruto just laughs and leans heavier against him. Sasuke lets him. His heart feels warm and soft and full, even when Naruto shifts to kiss under his jaw, slow and lingering. Sasuke tenses for a moment, then melts into it, eyes fluttering shut.
“Babe,” Naruto breathes again. His voice is rough, low, too fond. “You always smell so fucking good everytime I see you.”
Sasuke blushes again, damn him— and turns his head away slightly.
“You’re such a perv,” he mutters.
“You let me be.”
He can feel Naruto grinning.
And okay. Maybe he does. Maybe he likes it. Likes the way Naruto kisses down his neck, gentle and warm, more affectionate than anything. Not hungry or needy, just there. Present. Like he’s soaking in the moment, mouth pressed to Sasuke’s skin like it’s a favorite place he keeps coming back to.
Naruto sighs against his throat, the breath warm and fluttering, his glasses slipping a little where they’re still perched on his nose. He hasn’t taken them off, but Sasuke doesn’t mind. He’s kind of cute like this, hoodie rumpled, sweatpants slouching low, hair damp from a shower but already curling messily around his ears again. He’s warm and heavy, slouched into Sasuke’s side like he’s trying to fuse into him.
He lets his hand curl around Naruto’s hoodie where it bunches at his side.
Eventually, Sasuke shifts just slightly and mumbles, “You crashing here?”
It’s a stupid question. Pointless, really. Naruto always crashes here.
Even on the nights he insists he shouldn’t. Even when he grumbles about early lectures or unfinished homework or “being responsible for once,” he still ends up here— socks half off, face tucked into Sasuke’s pillow, limbs sprawled over half the bed like it’s his.
Sasuke always pretends it’s an inconvenience. Naruto always pretends not to notice.
Now, he hums against Sasuke’s collarbone, voice low and soft. “Mhm. Got an eight a.m. tomorrow.”
Sasuke raises an eyebrow and glances down at him. “And?”
Naruto lifts his head slightly to give him a tired, crooked smile. “And I should be responsible,” He leans back down again with a dramatic sigh. “Y’know. Go home. Sleep in my own bed. Be a real adult or whatever.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
A grin pulls at the corner of Naruto’s mouth, just visible where his cheek rests against Sasuke’s collarbone. “Guess not.”
Sasuke doesn’t argue. He just shifts so Naruto fits better, legs tangling with his on the couch. One of Naruto’s hands finds his again, fingers threading without hesitation. Sasuke glances at it, rough knuckles, calluses from climbing and swinging and fighting, scars Naruto never seems to notice. They don’t match Sasuke’s, but they’re familiar in the same way.
Sasuke squeezes lightly.
Naruto squeezes back.
There’s a long stretch of quiet again, and Sasuke thinks Naruto might be drifting off already. His breathing’s slowed, mouth slack against Sasuke’s shoulder. The weight of him is grounding, solid, heavy, warm in a way that fills up all the little hollow places Sasuke sometimes forgets are even there.
He tilts his head just enough to brush his lips against Naruto’s hair. It smells like his usual shampoo, like cheap citrus and something vaguely herbal but it’s familiar. Comforting. Home.
“You’ll sleep through your alarm,” Sasuke murmurs.
Naruto doesn’t even open his eyes. “You’ll wake me up.”
“Tch. You’re not my responsibility.”
“You love me, though.”
Sasuke exhales through his nose, tries not to smile. “Don’t push your luck.”
Naruto’s grin is sleepy, but smug. “Baby…”
“Stop calling me that.”
“No.”
Sasuke rolls his eyes, but doesn’t fight it. Not really.
Naruto nuzzles closer, chest rising and falling against him, and Sasuke lets his own eyes drift shut, hand still wrapped around Naruto’s, breath syncing with his without even meaning to.
He knows the couch is too small for this. He knows his neck’s going to hurt tomorrow. He knows Naruto’s going to whine about his early class and probably forget something here again.
But he also knows, Naruto’s not going anywhere. Not really.
And he can sleep with that.