Work Text:
kaminari
驟雨 - shūu (sudden, heavy downpour)
The rain had not let up for hours. All that remained was the muted drumming of droplets against leaves, stone, his shoulders. Water that had washed the blood from the fight away - at least from his armor.
Sasuke covered the final stretch toward the temple at a measured pace.
The path upward was narrow, more a worn trail than a proper road. Stones to either side were slick with moss, its green rendered almost unreal by the rain. The Torii gates behind him cast long shadows - Unsettling, Sasuke thought. Yet he knew that was precisely why he had been summoned. To restore order and to help dispel that unease that hung over the temple - even if no one could tell him how such a thing was meant to be done.
Passing beneath the Torii - one after another, darkened by rain, their red nearly black in the fading light, like congealed blood - had not felt like an invitation. More like a boundary. As if they were saying: no further.
He paused for a moment.
The mere sight of the temple, long past its prime, sent a chill through him. He could no longer tell whether the gooseflesh came from his soaked clothes or from the atmosphere that clung to the place itself.
Standing there, he caught the scent of wet wood - and iron. The latter had been clinging to him for hours now, just like the memory of what he had done. He had not hesitated. Not outwardly, at least. It had been an attack - foolish men who had thought him easy prey. He did not remember their faces, they had never really mattered. Only the flash of surprise, the warmth of blood, the moment after. The wound on his arm, no longer bleeding, was reminder enough.
Death clung to him - it always had, but never more so than now. And there was something about the temple ahead that felt just as dark, just as dangerous.
He pushed the memory aside, along with the unease - as he had been taught early on. Suppress it. Deal with it later. Or never.
The temple lay beneath tall, ancient trees, gnarled and weathered, as though time itself had left its mark on them. Rain whispered along the roofs; moss crept up the stone steps, as if the forest were slowly reclaiming the place. As though nature meant to lay something protective over it.
Something protective - which he was now meant to provide.
No one had spoken of danger outright, even though it felt so tangible his breath instinctively shallowed. Instead, they had spoken of unrest. Of signs. Of things fallen out of balance. Animals avoiding the forest. Nights when monks broke off their prayers, as though someone - or something - were listening. Someone who should not be.
And finally, almost reluctantly, his patron had admitted that it concerned one of their own - a monk. A young man who had carried something since birth, something so old and powerful that no one had ever known what to do with it. Only that he had to be kept under watch. For the Kami - that ancient god inhabiting his body - was unpredictable, impossible to drive out and under no circumstances to be underestimated.
Sasuke remembered the held breaths, the tension, the looks exchanged in the room - that familiar mixture of fear and reverence he had encountered more than once when entrusted with such assignments.
He came from an honorable family, one that had always ensured that those chosen by the gods were kept in order - and within clearly defined bounds. As a samurai, it had always been his task to uphold structure, to defend it, to protect it.
He was to intervene if necessary - that was all they had told him. But no one could say how. For none of the scholars knew how to deal with a god so powerful, so infamous - and one that had already found a home. In him - Naruto Uzumaki. At least, that was the name he had been given.
He did not know what awaited him. But even here, standing before the temple, he could feel that it was greater than anything he had faced before. And in that moment of stillness, a strange sensation crept over him: the sense that he had not arrived at all - but that he had been expected.
Sasuke drew a steady breath. Closed his dark eyes for a brief moment. Focused on what he was here for: protection. Nothing else. And then he placed his foot on the first step of the stairs.
Upward - toward something he would only later realize he did not fully understand.
-
Naruto knew something was wrong long before anyone put it into words. It always began the same way. As far back as he could remember, it had followed the same pattern: a thought cut short. Another slipping in to take its place. One that felt strangely foreign. One so dense with energy, with anger, with force, that it left him reeling for a few seconds at a time. And yet it could never be followed to its end.
Before it tips, he thought, kneeling in the secluded part of the temple - where the stone was cooler, the air drafty and the light never quite reached. Everything here was older, nearly lifeless, and yet saturated with something unrestrained, something that belonged to no one but him.
His gaze drifted over the bare walls. This place felt like an entirely different world - as though it had nothing in common with the temple one entered by the wide stone steps. A reality split off from what the villagers were allowed to see. And Naruto had understood early on why he was meant to be here.
His fingers moved reverently over the prayer beads in his hands, counting without truly counting. Feeling each individual bead and their wood, smoothed by countless touches. A record of all those prayers, all those years he had already spent here - reaching back to a time when his hands had been much smaller, when he had been told that this would now be his home.
The words had been gentle back then. They always had. About everything. As if they were trying not to unsettle him, he had sometimes thought. Only now did he understand that they had been trying not to provoke whatever lived inside him. And that perhaps it had never really been about him at all. Even if they had assured him that he would be safe within these walls - from what, he had not known at the time. That he was important. That he was needed.
And so, as a child, he had felt almost honored. Chosen, even. But he had learned quickly that importance was not the same thing as freedom. Quite the opposite, as it turned out.
The first time Kurama had stirred within him had felt like a rupture. At last, Naruto had understood what the others had been so afraid of. And he had learned to fear it too - especially when the ancient god was displeased.
In times when Kurama was content, Naruto had tried to understand him. To ask why he had chosen him as a vessel. And even when he had hoped his thoughts might remain hidden, Kurama would whisper answers - almost mocking, almost amused - that Naruto did not want to hear. He had often wondered whether this was a punishment. But over the years, he had learned how to live with it. To see Kurama as something more than a curse.
For when Kurama was appeased, Naruto was granted abilities that brought healing - to himself and above all to the people who came to the temple. The expulsion of malevolent spirits. The sealing of wounds. The turning of fates that seemed beyond saving. In those moments, he sometimes forgot what - and who - slept within him.
But when Kurama was not content, that sleep became a watchfulness. One that manifested physically, just as it did now. For days, Naruto had barely slept; he felt his thoughts growing more erratic, felt others slipping in between them - his thoughts. Kurama was stirring - not yet angry, not yet snarling as Naruto had known him to be. But awake. Perhaps bored. In truth, it had been going on for weeks, if he was honest with himself. Kurama’s presence had grown steadily more pronounced, until people had begun to avoid him altogether, making it wordlessly clear that he was to remain in this decaying part of the temple until the problem was resolved. Until Kurama was, for the time being, pacified. Yet everything that had worked before seemed useless this time.
He drew a slow breath in and out.
It’s all so terribly dull - so quiet, he heard the echo within him, heard Kurama’s warped voice reverberate through his thoughts. He felt like a vessel, used - and unfree.
Don’t complain, came the immediate reply. You use me too, don’t you?
Naruto closed his eyes with a sigh. Yes, he thought, resigned.
"Isn’t it… enough by now?", he murmured into the bare space around him. His voice was low, barely more than a breath. He had learned never to demand anything of Kurama. Only to ask. One did not negotiate with Kurama as one would with a human being - of course not.
Enough for whom? The tone was dry, faintly amused.
"It would be enough for me, at least", the blond whispered, lifting his blue eyes back to the beads slipping through his fingers.
You’re tired, Kurama observed. And I am awake.
Naruto couldn’t help the slight lift of a brow. Of course he was tired - Kurama made sure he never slept. Pressing him toward something Naruto could not yet name.
He was no prisoner in chains. At least not visible ones. But he was bound all the same - held fast to Kurama. And to his will.
Naruto swallowed hard as he felt the atmosphere of the temple shift, unmistakably. Someone had arrived. Kurama sensed it, subtly drawing himself up within him. Naruto’s own skin prickled in response - anticipation, tension and unease. Kurama bared his teeth inside him, though Naruto could not tell why.
Finally, the voice echoed within him. This will be… interesting.
-
Before Naruto could hear the footsteps on the rotting floorboards of the corridor, it struck him like a blow: the warmth spreading through his body, the sense of scenting something that threaded itself beneath everything else, the tightening low in his abdomen - as if something long dormant had stirred awake.
Ah, came the voice from within. It did not sound surprised. But sharpened. Alert. And as Naruto caught the nuance of it, he sucked in a sharp breath - …hunger. He froze, blue eyes wide. "No", he said quietly, unsure whether the word was meant for Kurama or for himself. He could not deny it, but panic surged at the mere thought of what that hunger might mean.
A ringing laugh cut through his thoughts. He could barely think clearly anymore; Kurama kept intruding, claiming more and more space.
What do you think - that I’m a monster?, the voice scoffed, I don’t eat people.
The tone was mocking, condescending and Naruto clenched his jaw almost imperceptibly. He hardly dared to follow the thought to its end before Kurama cut in again: Come on, little one. This is… a different kind of hunger.
Naruto blinked, unsettled, into the near-darkness of the room. What… did Kurama mean by that?
He smells of blood, Kurama observed, sounding pleased. As though the one moving through the corridor were worthy of him. Naruto’s stomach tightened. He had no idea what any of this meant.
He’s here because of you.
"No, Kurama. He’s here because of you." His own voice sounded thick. Whoever came, they always came for Kurama - never for him. The closer the footsteps drew, the faster his heart pounded. The more something inside him clenched tight. And the more he cursed Kurama for it all. A barely audible snort escaped him, and then he began to count his breaths. Counting. Ordering. Calming himself - as best he could.
He’s guilty, Kurama continued confirmedly. He has killed. A brief pause. Just today.
The tone was almost curious. Guilt and order - what a pretty combination.
Pretty? Naruto tried to breathe through the rising irritation. What could possibly be pretty about that? Then Kurama shifted inside him so forcefully that Naruto’s breath nearly caught. A strange wave of heat flared through him - overwhelming and involuntary.
He’s coming closer, Kurama growled - and it sounded expectant. More than that. Lustful, Naruto realized with a jolt of alarm as he struggled to rein in his racing heart. Can you feel it, little one?
Yes - Naruto could feel it. Unavoidably. Uninvited.
His body had long since understood what his mind was still trying to deny.
-
They received him at the main entrance. Nodded solemnly. Fell into an uneasy silence. Then led him along the temple grounds - around the outer buildings. He noticed it at once. He followed without a word and with every step toward the decaying wing of the temple, he felt the air grow colder, sharper. It seemed to vibrate, charged with something Sasuke had never encountered before.
There was no incense here. No altar with offerings. No symbols. No nothing. Only rotting wood that creaked loudly beneath his feet. They opened the first door for him, then took their leave with lowered heads - as if they wanted nothing to do with whatever lay at the end of that long corridor, beyond the next door.
He gave nothing away. His expression remained as still as ever as he walked down the hall. But now - here, before the last door - something in him reacted so strangely that he was forced to stop. His hand hovered over the latch, as though something invisible emanated from it. He tried to make sense of the sensation - as if something were drawing him closer, magnetic, inescapable. He drew a deep breath, lifted his head, and pushed the heavy wooden door open.
Beyond it, the room was almost completely dark. A handful of candles burned, casting only minimal light and throwing near-ghostly shadows against the stone walls. The space radiated something watchful, taut, that sent an immediate shiver down his spine.
His eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness.
In the sparse candlelight, someone knelt at the center of the room, head slightly bowed.
That must be him, Sasuke thought, studying the monk before him. His dark gaze traced the blond hair, the slender build beneath the robes, down to the prayer beads that had seen better days, slipping through narrow fingers.
Even if Sasuke had not been briefed beforehand, it would have been palpable now: the young man kneeling on the floor was surrounded by an aura that made Sasuke’s throat tighten at once. There was something almost sacred about him - and at the same time, unmistakably animal. Sasuke found it difficult to look away.
And when the monk suddenly lifted his gaze, Sasuke felt his heart leap into his throat. He found himself staring straight into a pair of pale blue eyes, so deep they made the ground seem to drop away beneath him. Without realizing it, he held his breath.
You have an assignment, his oath and his sense of order called him back. Quickly, he inclined his upper body, bowing to the other man, breaking the eye contact that had already felt far too intense.
Almost forbidden.
-
The samurai stood several paces away. Rain-soaked, his dark armor evidently left behind with the other monks, dressed now only in the thin layers beneath. Naruto’s gaze caught on his sleeve, where dried blood marked the fabric.
He looked at him. For a long time. There was something in his stare that made Naruto’s heart thud - and Kurama grin. Others usually looked away. Or looked straight through him. This man did neither.
When the samurai straightened again, Naruto took in the fine lines of his face, the ivory tone of his skin, the dark hair still damp from the rain. When their eyes met once more, there was something expectant in the other’s gaze - appraising, cautious, and yet unmistakably surprised. In the candlelight, his eyes gleamed almost black.
And at once, the pull inside Naruto intensified.
I want him.
Naruto’s fingers tightened around the beads in his hands, as though control could be maintained that way. No, he tried to counter the fox spirit within him. But before Kurama could respond, the samurai cleared his throat. His voice was softer, deeper than Naruto had imagined.
"I was sent here", the other said at last. "My name is Sasuke Uchiha."
Uchiha, Kurama murmured immediately. So that’s him.
Naruto blinked faintly, swallowed hard. He wondered what this ancient god inside him was driving at. He’s the one who’s meant to do it - the one I want. Now. Naruto’s chest felt far too tight.
Do what? Naruto thought, dazed.
A hoarse laugh echoed through him. But instead of its usual arrogance, the Kami whispered almost tenderly, You know that perfectly well for yourself, little one. And before Naruto could grasp what the fox spirit meant, it added, You’ve dreamed of it often enough, haven’t you?
He lowered his gaze at once, feeling heat flood his cheeks. The ache low in his body grew sharper as it slowly dawned on him that these reactions could not be Kurama’s alone. Yes - because you want it too. Just admit it.
"I am meant to help", Sasuke’s words resonated through the bare room, "to restore calm."
He paused, then added, "To… pacify the Kami within you."
I have an idea how to pacify me, Kurama’s tone grew insistent, pressing, and Naruto struggled to hear anything over the thunder of his own heart.
Naruto only nodded. He had no idea what else he might say. His cheeks burned, shame blooming hot in his chest. He gathered what courage he could, tried to ignore Kurama’s commentary on the other man - on his appearance, his body - and whispered, "My name is Naruto."
His voice sounded so hoarse, so rough, that he almost winced. It felt as though those three words contained everything he did not dare to say - or ask for. And Kurama was right: he had been having those… dreams for some time now. He had always blamed Kurama for them. Dreams of… - he could hardly think it. As though even allowing the thought of what his unconscious wove at night were forbidden, unspeakable.
If you insist on using me as your excuse, the Kami murmured then, go ahead - take me as your excuse. I want him. After a pause that felt weighted with meaning, the whisper passed through him again: Just as you do.
-
Days passed - days Naruto barely endured. Due to the heat, the tension and the charged atmosphere between them. And worst of all: Sasuke never left his side. Not for a single moment did he take his eyes off him.
When he had touched him for the first time two days ago, tending to his wound, Naruto had thought he might faint. The moment his fingers brushed the other man’s arm, something had jolted through him like a shock. And for a fleeting second, the samurai’s eyes had widened almost imperceptibly - as if he, too, had startled himself.
Ever since then, Naruto had been able to think of nothing but how desperately he wanted to touch the dark-haired man again. Needed to, if Kurama had his way - Kurama, who whispered to him in every spare moment how badly he wanted the Uchiha. The fox spirit seemed to ache for the other man - and dragged Naruto down with him.
The rain had returned. Heavy drops struck the temple roof, each one sounding like a thunderclap in the unbearable silence between them.
Naruto had not slept in days. For the moment he closed his eyes, Kurama would force images behind his lids, making it painfully clear what he demanded of him: Naruto beneath Sasuke, moaning - whimpering, pleading, begging for more. Naruto panting, arching into the Uchiha’s thrusts - deeper, harder, more relentless than he would ever allow himself to imagine, even in his own fantasies. Naruto clinging to him, leaving marks, scratches - while words like take me, break me spilled from his open mouth.
Kurama - please, he turned inward, almost hopelessly resigned, nearly desperate. I just… can’t do it anymore. His own thoughts flickered and scattered; he could barely think at all, the fox spirit occupying everything, blocking it, bending it toward Sasuke.
A deep, mocking laugh answered him. You know what needs to be done. Do it - and I’ll be quiet.
He could practically see the grin in that rough voice. I promise, little one.
And if you don’t - then I’ll make sure it happens anyway.
-
Outside the temple, an almost ghostly stillness reigned. Inside, however, the air felt dense - charged with something that ignited an unfamiliar heat low in Sasuke’s abdomen. He lowered his head for a moment.
Do I desire him - is that it?
The question echoed quietly within him. He couldn’t deny it: he found the blond man attractive; he had always been drawn to men. But this near-magnetic pull - one that all but compelled him closer - was foreign to him.
It’s probably the Kami, Sasuke decided, lifting his gaze again to the monk who had just bent to light a few candles. His dark eyes traced the line of the other’s back, paused at the curve of his hips. What would it be like, he wondered, to be intimate with someone possessed by a god? Would he feel the Kami?
He watched as the blond man straightened, his shoulders rising with a deep, heavy breath and falling again on an almost pained exhale - like someone finally bracing himself, finally giving in. Or maybe he caught me staring, Sasuke thought at once, heat crawling up his neck. Then he heard the quiet, tightly held words:
"I… can’t take this anymore."
Sasuke swallowed hard. Did the other feel the same? Or did he mean only that he could no longer bear the fox spirit inside him? Sasuke wasn’t sure which answer he preferred. The blond added hoarsely, still not turning around, "Do you feel it too?"
It took what felt like an eternity before Sasuke found his voice and managed a rough, "Yes."
The rain intensified. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled, its low vibration filling the room as if giving form to what was happening. Sasuke barely noticed. His attention narrowed to the trembling shoulders beneath the monk’s dark robe. Slowly, Naruto turned to face him and in those blue eyes lay something so gripping - almost feral - that Sasuke felt briefly unsteady.
"It’s not just him", the blond whispered.
Sasuke couldn’t look away. He felt nearly trapped by that hypnotic blue, deepening by the second. He hardly knew what compelled him to rise. He moved toward the other, and before he understood what was happening, he stood only inches away.
There was no conscious thought - no decision, no resolve. It felt more like something breaking loose. Something he knew from battle, from those moments - seconds- before blood spilled, before he did something unforgivable. That deep pull, that burning insistence stripped of morality, bent solely toward release - taking what it wanted without regard for consequence. But this was stronger than anything he had known, as though something had descended over him like a spell.
Those blue eyes held his - demanding, feverish - and Sasuke felt control slip almost at once. He stood so close he could smell the other, see the fine lines that spoke of frequent smiles, hear the weight of his breath - as if Naruto were struggling against something already decided.
Before he realized it, his hand closed around the back of the other’s neck - almost rough, almost impatient, as if he couldn’t endure the heat between them another second. Naruto gasped. It didn’t sound like protest; it sounded like finally.
That raw, involuntary sound struck Sasuke like lightning. Whatever lived inside him answered immediately - hot, blind.
He pulled the blond closer, pressed him against himself, as though something between them had finally collapsed. And with it, the last distance vanished as Sasuke crushed his mouth to the other’s. Naruto’s hands clawed into his sleeve - reflexive, unanchored, strangely triumphant - as he kissed back. His lips parted at once; their tongues met, pushing, wanting, relentless.
Sasuke’s left hand stayed firm at the nape of the blond’s neck, allowing no space. His right slid impatiently down the other’s body, shoved the robe up, claimed access. Naruto’s breath hitched audibly as Sasuke’s long fingers closed around his length, already half-hard. When Naruto moaned into the kiss, Sasuke took the opening, driving his tongue deeper. The kisses grew heavier, tasting of heat, of want, of something no longer deferrable. And the blond answered with equal urgency, his hands roaming Sasuke’s back, pulling him closer, as if he meant to merge with him.
Sasuke couldn’t explain what was happening to him.
But suddenly something like a low growl escaped him - barely more than a vibration in his chest - and he bit down on the other’s lower lip. Naruto sucked in a sharp breath, which was swallowed immediately by the next demanding kiss.
The rain drummed louder against the roof. The storm outside seemed to hover directly above the temple. A flash of lightning lit the bare room, freezing everything for a heartbeat, carving every contour into stark contrast. And when darkness returned, a deep rumble filled the space - one Sasuke couldn’t be sure wasn’t the voice of the gods themselves.
-
Everything in Naruto was stretched to the point of tearing. The heat inside him felt unbearable, boiling over, forcing him toward the other. He was almost dizzy - everything was happening too fast, as if a stone had been set rolling, triggering an avalanche he could no longer stop.
And so he found himself hoisted onto the narrow altar table, his clothes discarded carelessly on the floor beside it, Sasuke bent over him. The expression in those dark eyes was nearly clouded by something that went far beyond desire.
He felt the other’s hands roam over him possessively, gripping, positioning him. Breathless and stunned, his gaze traced the body looming above him: the trained chest, its ivory skin marked by countless scars; the muscles of a flat abdomen that looked carved in the candlelight’s shadows; down to Sasuke’s length, almost intimidating - larger than Naruto had expected, already glistening with anticipation. When Naruto’s eyes lingered there, widening, a furtive grin slipped across the Uchiha’s lips.
He leaned in, his face so close that Naruto could feel his hot breath. There was a glint in those dark eyes - something unbound, something brimming with power and blazing fire - that made Naruto’s breath catch. In the same instant, another bolt of lightning struck nearby, and for a split second the room was flooded with daylight. In that brief flash, something shimmered through that made Naruto’s heart miss a beat:
Kurama?
But before he could grasp what he had seen, thunder rolled through the room, echoing off the stone walls. Darkness returned - mirroring the look in the other’s eyes. Naruto’s pulse spiked; he blinked, disoriented, and before he could form another thought, he felt Sasuke’s thumb brush almost tenderly over his lower lip.
"Don’t be afraid", he murmured softly - then added, much lower, "You’ve dreamed of it often enough, haven’t you?" The tone vibrated with something Naruto recognized instantly - and the words, too. Kurama had whispered them during their first meeting. His breath broke completely as the realization seeped in.
And then he felt something answer deep within him, too - as if a door had been thrown open, feeding that blazing thing fresh oxygen. The flame flared at once, surging upward, burning, consuming.
Sasuke’s thumb pressed his mouth open, and before Naruto knew it, the other slid his index and middle fingers between his lips. A hoarse sound escaped him as he closed around them, sucking, coating them with saliva - almost lascivious, almost desperate, undone by the heat. And the Uchiha, too, couldn’t suppress a groan.
Then he withdrew his fingers slowly. A thin strand of saliva, gleaming in the candlelight, followed them downward. The mere thought of what would come next made Naruto tremble. He felt those fingers at his entrance, felt them trace - almost reverently - over the ring of muscle, as if this were something sacred, only to press insistently, impatiently, the next moment. A hiss tore from Naruto as he felt the first finger push inside. He turned his face away, squeezed his eyes shut, yet couldn’t stop his hips from dropping down - toward that pressure, that opening, that wanting he could barely control.
Sasuke noticed immediately, answering the small, almost unconscious shift with a hoarse snort. He pushed the finger deeper, testing, curling it, drawing broken, willing sounds from Naruto one after another. He bent down again, scattering kisses - and bites, some gentler than others - along his neck, his shoulder, his chest, as the second finger joined.
The pounding inside him grew stronger, more insistent, nearly robbing him of reason. He writhed into the movement within him, his moans growing rougher whenever Sasuke curled his fingers just like that. Each curl made him shudder, made something inside him throb and break open. His own length pressed against Sasuke’s body above him, brushing the other’s again and again. Every contact pulled hot, hoarse gasps from them both.
Then, suddenly, the fingers were withdrawn. A near-pleading sound slipped from Naruto’s throat. It felt so empty, so exposed - wide and stretched. Instinctively his hips jerked toward the other. Sasuke straightened. Looked down at him.
-
It was like a rush.
He wasn’t sure he had ever felt anything like it before.
It felt as though something was tearing through his bloodstream - something so foreign, so powerful it flooded every part of him. As if his heart were pumping something else alongside the blood that was gathering, almost painfully, in his lower body. He had to - he just couldn’t wait any longer.
So he spat into his palm, spread the saliva over his throbbing length, already trembling with need. His dark eyes dropped to the young man before him: laid out on the altar as if offered up, ringed by candles whose flames flickered almost expectantly. His entrance flushed pink, open, quivering faintly in anticipation. He lay there so exposed, so yielding, so wanting that something hot and tight drew sharply together in Sasuke’s gut.
He gripped Naruto’s hips, pulled him closer to the edge of the table, closer to himself. For a brief moment he looked up into those blue eyes, half-lidded and fever-bright. Then he guided himself forward, fighting the impatience surging through him, threatening to make him bury himself all at once. Inch by inch he pressed deeper, gasping sharply as he felt the tightness close around him, clenching almost spasmodically. A sound slipped from Naruto - somewhere between a whimper and a languid moan - and he moved against him, as if he, too, couldn’t wait another second. Sasuke let out a hoarse laugh as he felt that demand.
Without hesitation he seized the blond at the narrow waist and pushed his entire length into that pulsing heat that seemed to draw him in. The body beneath his hands began to tremble at once, and it looked as though Naruto were desperately gasping for air - as if he were on the verge of drowning and had finally broken the surface for a single breath.
-
He was so full. Overwhelmingly full.
He barely knew what to do with the sensation - with this experience he had never known before. He gasped beneath Sasuke’s size, which filled him completely. It burned - the pain was bright and searing, but beneath it lay that same blaze, urging him to writhe against the other’s length. Almost addictive.
When another hoarse sound left Sasuke, Naruto’s blue eyes sought his, saw that his gaze was fixed on Naruto’s flat stomach, and followed it. He cried out as he understood what had drawn that incredulous laugh: it was visible - visible just how deep, how full this was. His belly curved faintly beneath Sasuke’s size, taut and stretched. No wonder it felt so tight, so unbearably full. His body clenched around the pulsing length, closed around it as if it never wanted to let go.
Then Sasuke began to move.
Demanding. Pressing. Impatient. The thrusts came rough and hard and so deep that each one knocked the air from Naruto’s chest, leaving him nearly desperate for breath. Whimpering, he searched for something to hold onto, clutching alternately at the edge of the table and at Sasuke’s hands, which gripped his waist as if afraid Naruto might come apart otherwise.
And it truly felt as though something inside him were breaking - shattered, only to be put back together again at last. As if something were finally filling the place that had been empty for so long.
Sasuke groaned hoarsely above him, then seized his thighs and lifted them high until Naruto’s knees pressed against his chest. A startled gasp tore from him - immediately turning into a rough, broken moan as Sasuke thrust back into him. At this new angle, so deep it brought tears to his eyes. When the thrusts came again, fast and firm, they brushed that place inside him again and again, making his own length twitch against his stomach. Naruto could barely suppress a pleading sob. Broken sounds slipped from him between thrusts; he could no longer form a clear thought. Everything in him narrowed to this heat, this wanting.
"Ah- I-… hah-", he stammered, struggling for breath.
Then the other’s hand closed around his length, slick with leaking need, moving in time with the thrusts. Naruto felt himself teetering on the edge, and the frantic motion sent him hurtling toward it - dizzyingly fast. Everything in him drew tight, hot, pulsing. With a desperate sound he grabbed the hand around him. The pressure of both their hands nearly drove him out of his mind. He didn’t even know whether he wanted the other to slow down or give him more of the same.
He hardly knew which way was up anymore. It was all too much at once.
The thrusts felt as though his entire insides were dissolving - splintering in blinding sunlight into a thousand shards, shimmering, fractured.
And then Sasuke struck that place inside him again, at the same moment his thumb brushed over the sensitive tip - and it broke over him like a tidal wave. He threw his head back, felt tears spill unchecked down his cheeks, his lips parted. He tried to make a sound, but only a strangled noise escaped. His whole body shook uncontrollably beneath the other, who didn’t slow for a second, but drove the pace even harder. Sticky and hot, his release splashed across his own chest.
And with his climax, something else in Naruto came undone - something that had tormented him for weeks at last giving way.
-
The blond jolted so violently beneath his thrusts that Sasuke nearly went blind with pleasure. It was as if something inside him had come undone - unhinged. Animal-like. Taking, not asking.
Every sound beneath him drove him deeper into that state. And when Naruto came, the hot tightness around his length began to pulse so intensely that Sasuke lost whatever restraint he still had.
He took him harder, faster, deeper, while the storm continued to rage outside.
Almost as if something similar were raging inside him.
That drive - there was no other way to explain the haze completely surrounding him - nearly turned him into someone he wasn’t. Only when Naruto’s climax gave way to a near-childlike sobbing did the fog begin to lift. He was just about to bend down when the other rasped, hoarse and choked with tears, “Don’t- don’t stop, ah-”
Sasuke drew a trembling breath, grabbed the blond by the hips and pulled him down onto every thrust, each one dragging him closer to the edge of madness. Something in him was nearly devouring itself with want for the other. He thrust three more times - so deep, as if he meant to brand himself into him. Stay there. Forever.
Then it tore through him: with a breathless “Oh god-” he spilled wave after wave into the blond beneath him, filling him with hot release until it felt as though he might overflow. Gasping, he braced his hands beside Naruto’s head, collapsing half over him, fighting desperately for air.
-
He felt it spread inside him.
That warmth. That wetness.
And wet were his lashes, his cheeks too, streaked with salty tears.
Tears of relief, he realized faintly.
Finally - a own thought of his own. Fully formed.
The rain had stopped.
And Kurama was silent.