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Sasuke sat at the edge of his bed, hand resting between his knees. If someone passed by him, they might think he was praying.
But no one passed by him. No one ever did.
He was still on a lockdown, unable to leave his apartment. Forced to stay put, unable to help. Unable to harm.
He had just gotten out of the shower, body still wet from the steam. His jet black hair was plastered to his forehead and the nape of his neck, the coolness of the small rivulets of water running down his back giving little relief to the stale hot air. He was wrapped in a towel, slung low over his hips.
His mind was a mess, but his eyes were focused on the only other form of life he was authorized to interact with - a single orchid plant sitting on the windowsill. The soot from the city had accumulated on his windowpane so that the light was filtered in, but somehow this stubborn plant refused to die. Refused to yield.
Sasuke felt bonded to this little plant that was given to him when it was no more than a stick. He had watched it grow and even flower, and some small part of him thought that if it could bloom, maybe so could he.
Maybe, in the right hands, he could even flourish.
He pushed his hair back and held his hand behind his head for a moment, stretching out the tension in his muscles before letting his hand fall in his lap.
His right hand, anyways. There were moments when he had to catch himself, forgetting that he was permanently changed. He would go to catch something and drop it. He would reach for something and wouldn’t be able to grasp.
Precious things were slipping through his grip, despite being outstretched. Story of his fucking life.
He called on Susanoo and forges an arm and hand on his left side, channeling the avatar as an extension of himself. He gasps for a moment as his entire body is engulfed in pain, every fiber of his being set ablaze.
One breath. Then, another.
His body gets used to the pain, until it feels second-nature. A slow simmer of torture, just below the surface.
He hates himself for not being stronger.
He stared at the glowing palm on the left hand, absentmindedly running his fingers over the spot where the palm seal once was.
A small crescent moon.
There for a moment, but Sasuke had liked it.
Yes, the power that came from it was useful and cool, but if he was really being honest with himself - something he has been forcing himself to do a lot recently - he really liked it because of how it complimented Naruto’s sun.
It was like a physical, tangible representation of a bond between them. A claiming. Proof they could mean something to each other.
Sasuke wore his on his left like a promise. Naruto wore his on his right like an offering.
If they held them together, it would make an eclipse - a beautiful occurrence where for but a moment, the Moon gets to embrace the Sun.
For a moment, Sasuke could show Naruto the same support and care Naruto is always showing him.
Sasuke flung himself back on his bed with a frustrated huff, feeling an all too familiar pressure begin to build in his body.
It was annoying, really, how optimistic Naruto could be. Especially when that optimism was aimed at Sasuke.
It would make their missions together both unbearable and the only thing that kept Sasuke going.
And now Naruto is on his own out there, facing dangers by himself, while Sasuke was alone in here. He isn’t there to help, he isn’t there to protect.
He doesn’t know what’s going on with Naruto, and he starts to feel panic rising in his chest. He feels like the walls are closing in on him, that he will never leave his room, he is stuck here alone forever -
Stop , he tells himself firmly. Breathe . He takes a deep breath in, filling his lungs with the stale air of his apartment until the expansion of his lungs is almost painful and holds it for a moment. He closes his eyes and exhales it completely, feeling himself retract into himself.
Control.
He lacks it, he knows. He wants to take it from others, but cannot give it to himself.
Like anything, he just needs a bit of practice.
Sasuke gritted his teeth as he ran his hands up his thighs, pressing down hard on them, trying to ease some of the tension in his body, a practiced motion he was too familiar with.
It was like flagellation. He didn’t deserve this, but maybe this was exactly what he deserved.
He was a wretched thing, not to be cherished. You’re not supposed to be cherished while you’re on a lockdown.
But that didn’t stop his traitorous heart from wanting to be. Some days, Sasuke thought the only thing he was capable of was wanting.
And oh , he wanted . He wanted to run his fingers through Naruto’s hair. He wanted to take him out for ramen and hold his stupid little hand while Naruto ordered one of everything on the menu. He wanted to see what those blue eyes looked like when they were darkened with desire, desire for him .
He wanted to be the last thing Naruto saw when he closed his eyes, and the first thing when he woke up.
He wanted to be the one who made him smile.
The mere thought of Naruto’s smile went straight to his cock, and he just simply couldn’t resist anymore.
After all, Sasuke was weak.
Sasuke settled himself so he was lying fully on the bed, running his hands up his thighs and lightly grazing the place between just once. The motion sent a jolt of pleasure throughout Sasuke’s body, and a small sigh involuntarily escaped his lips.
He unwrapped the towel and felt the cool air hit his skin as he continued to stroke his thighs up and down, the heat from his hands slowly warming up the rest of his body.
He took himself in his hand, feeling the weight of himself in his palm. He spread his thumb over the bead of moisture at the tip and stroked himself once, twice, slowly squeezing at his tip and turning his wrist at his base.
He had to pace himself, had to go slow, because when he was done, he wasn’t allowed to think of Naruto anymore.
At least until the next time.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he worked his fist.
Slow. Tight. A quick stroke, a twist.
It’s pitiful how predictable he can be. Like fucking clockwork he always winds up here in the same position, mind always wandering where it really shouldn’t go.
His pathetic mind dregs up that memory. If it were a book, Sasuke would read it every night. The edges would be frayed, the pages a bit worn, never containing a bookmark because once you start, you can’t stop.
It isn’t even an important memory, but it’s stuck in his brain on repeat.
It might have been a Tuesday, or a Saturday, but either way, he was sitting in the grass. The sun was high in the sky, but a breeze kept the day warm and not sweltering. Sasuke was sitting, almost like he was now, trying in vain to keep his emotions in check. There was so much he had to do, so much on his shoulders.
Then, from his left. “Sasuke!”
His name. He’s heard it a million times before, and a million times since then. But this time was different, like a lightning bolt to the heart. Sasuke's entire being skipped a step.
He turned and looked, and was staring at the sun. Except the sun had blue eyes and a shinobi headband, but was beaming at him all the same.
That’s it, that’s the memory. Sasuke can’t remember what happened next. It almost doesn’t matter, because in that moment, Sasuke would be irreparably changed.
Blue eyes staring into his black, like the ocean kissing the cosmos where they intersect on the horizon. His essence was claimed.
He could swim in those pools for eternity, perhaps even drown in them. Water filling his lungs would cleanse his soul, salvation from the inside out.
A whimper escaped his lips as he squeezed the tip of himself and began fisting himself faster, hips bucking up off the bed.
Were they bonded for life, or only in Sasuke’s mind? Is he actually delusional enough to think that Naruto could be with him forever, or does he have to resign himself to a lifetime of being a spectator?
He was close he was so close he was so fucking close -
He hissed sharply as he abruptly put his hands on his thighs and tried to ignore the throbbing throughout his body, pulling himself back from the precipice.
Restraint. Control.
Things he lacks, especially when it comes to Naruto.
He has to practice. He has to make it last.
This moment could last an eternity if only he could just fucking control himself.
He has to be on guard. Mustn’t get lost in a fantasy, can’t lose himself in a dream.
He took several slow deep breaths, inhaling sharply through his nose and exhaling through tense pursed lips. He could feel his heartbeat slow from the galloping pace.
After several moments when the threat of release passed him, he took himself in his hand, a little more sensitive than before, and started to gently work his length. Featherlight touches gave way to firmer strokes, and Sasuke’s eyes rolled back in his head.
He snaked his false hand up his body, breath catching as he passed over his stomach as he brought his hand to the base of his neck, nails scraping gently at his skin. He flattened his fingers around his collarbones and slowly brought them up so they were gripping his neck.
He inhaled on a moan as he gently squeezed his throat, mimicking the pressure on his cock as he worked himself.
A cruel memory flashed of other hands wrapped around his neck. The pressure of his fabricated hand grew tighter and tighter around his neck, as if Itachi was there now, holding him down, reminding Sasuke that he will never be more than this.
It was by Sasuke’s own created hand that he was like this, it was by Sasuke’s own making that he was trapped in a hell of his own creation.
It was Sasuke’s own fault he wasn’t good enough.
Sasuke let out a whimper as he tightened his grip on his throat, imagining hateful hands one day becoming kinder ones.
He squeezed tighter and tighter. He doesn’t deserve to breathe , he doesn’t deserve to live -
Breathe, Sasuke , he could almost hear Naruto saying, the smile in his melodic voice tickling the shell of his ear.
Sasuke released the vice grips on his throat and cock with a gasp, sensation flooding back into his body as he took several shuddering breaths to ground himself.
Close, he was too close.
Again .
Blood thundering in his veins, he took himself in his fist once more. Sweat began to form on his brow, and he was panting, unable to catch his breath but unable to stop the pleasure that was surging through his body.
Heart beating wildly, he spit into his palm and brought it back down to his cock, nearly crying at the sensation of his hand gliding over his sensitive length.
Slick sounds filled the room as Sasuke worked himself at a faster rhythm, a punishing pace for his over-stimulated cock.
He could feel his control slipping. It was too tempting to give into himself, too tempting to give him what he really wanted.
It was no surprise that his resolve wavered. He was nothing but a failure.
Failed his brother, failed his clan. The only thing worse than failing himself was failing Naruto.
Useless, nothing, irredeemable, waste! Sasuke chanted in his mind as he worked himself faster and faster, almost on the brink.
Naruto doesn’t think so , his traitorous mind whispered in retaliation.
Sasuke’s hips bucked into his hand erratically, and he could scarcely catch his breath.
That small ember of hope, that walled off part of him that he was trying so hard to kill would not be overpowered, not while Naruto was there to protect it.
That thought alone was too much, and Sasuke could feel his restraint disappear completely. He came with a long groan, low and pained, his release ripping through him like a punishment. His body bowed off the bed as his vision went white as wave after wave of pleasure surged through him, encompassing his whole body.
Spent, Sasuke finally relaxed into the bed. He lay there still for several moments, eyes closed, suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion. He put his hand out and felt half-heartedly for the blanket on the bed and pulled it over himself, curling up on his side.
Even if he had absolutely nothing, at least he had this. At least he could still dream.
And while he could still dream, it meant he could still hope.