Chapter Text
Naruto was sitting on his bed when Kurma decided he’d had enough of the wallowing.
Kit, came the rough voice from inside him. I hate to agree with that demon, but the Uchiha was right. What were you expecting? Do you not remember the time you two fought over this and you cried because he didn’t send you a letter for five mont—
“Don’t call Sasuke a demon,” he muttered under his breath, interrupting the fox. Naruto refused to answer any other part of that question. He didn’t care what he and Sasuke had fought about. Sasuke was leaving . Again. Kurma picked up on his black mood and quieted, slipping away back into the fathomless ether that Naruto had created for him in his mindspace.
Naruto could hear Sasuke shuffling around in the kitchen, but he still didn’t rise from his cross-legged position on his mattress. Their tussle in Sasuke’s room had been about two hours ago, and Naruto had only managed to work himself up more in the silence. Why did it feel like—like—like the ground was falling out from underneath him? And why did he feel like this every time Sasuke left? Naruto’s fingers tightened on the blanket underneath him. He was angry and he knew he shouldn’t be. Sasuke had so many reasons to hate being in Konoha, and even though Naruto had done a lot to change things, he wasn’t sure it would ever be enough for someone like Sasuke. Someone who saw grief in everything, in the future, in the past, in the lining of his shoes and the very path he walked.
More than he was angry, Naruto ached. It was a selfish sort of ache, one that crawled up the back of his throat and made him feel sort of, well, funny. He didn’t really know what it meant. He did know that he had wanted, desperately, for Sasuke to stay. To walk around with him, to train together. For Sasuke to trip him and call him an idiot and maybe throw a kunai or two at him when Naruto was being stupid. To know Sasuke, more than he already did. Naruto sighed, and clutched the froggy stuffed animal in his lap to his chest.
What was worse was that Naruto wished that just once, even if he might have said no, Sasuke had asked him to come with him. Futile. A fucking pipe dream. Naruto dragged the frog plushie up and squished his face into it and groaned so loudly that the soft fabric did nothing to smother the sound. In his shame (and anger. He was still pissed off that Sasuke wouldn’t tell him what had triggered all of this), he did not look up when he heard Sasuke kick his door open from where Naruto had left it ajar.
“Naruto.”
Naruto fell back onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t look at Sasuke or he’d crack—all it took was one glance at his features, so high and beautiful and that softness , only for Naruto. Always only for Naruto. The expression had been there since the war and even distance had not been able to push away the feeling that Sasuke did not look at anyone, talk to anyone, quite like he did with Naruto. But Sasuke wanted to leave. Probably to find someone else who would learn to make him smile and didn’t come with all the baggage of Konoha. Naruto’s thoughts made his heartbeat throb uncomfortably in the hollow of his throat.
He’d been so happy today too, so looking forward to coming home and seeing Sasuke. Naruto had planned to talk the dark haired ninja’s ear off all night about the genin team and how impressed they’d been at his Nine Tails mode (he never got to use it anymore, missions were generally chill now that it was peacetime). He’d also been planning on asking Sasuke for advice about how to turn Hinata down even though he’d been an idiot and panicked and taken the scarf she had clearly spent so much time making him.
And now Naruto was ignoring the one person he’d wanted to talk to all day because he had no idea what he was supposed to say. If they talked about Sasuke leaving he’d either get mad or cry and Naruto didn’t like either of those options. He sighed again, almost forgetting Sasuke was in the room with him.
“Are you done throwing a tantrum?”
Naruto whipped up so fast that he almost crashed straight into the hard panes of Sasuke’s stomach. The other ninja had stealthily come to stand right at the edge of the bed, looking down at Naruto with a thinly veiled expression of mildly exhausted amusement. Naruto glared up at him, so tempted not to take the bait but bit anyways, because it was Sasuke.
“I’m the one throwing a tantrum? You’re an asshole.” Naruto headbutted him in the stomach.
Sasuke didn’t even flinch, or—more surprisingly—move away when Naruto didn’t bother to lift his head. He just used the palm of his hand to press against Naruto’s forehead and pushed his head back until his eyes came back to Sasuke’s.
“I’m sorry,” came the foreign words out of what was surely an imposter’s mouth.
Naruto blinked wildly up at him. If he wasn’t so attuned to Sasuke’s chakra that he’d know him anywhere, blind or deaf or dead, he would have attacked the imposter right then and there.
“Who are you and what have you done with Sasuke,” he demanded, earning a frown from Sasuke, who shoved his head back with a bit more force.
“I got you ramen.”
Naruto’s resolve to be angry died in the rising tide of overwhelming affection for his best friend. He really knew Naruto like the back of his hand, didn’t he? And he’d apologized. Still hadn’t asked Naruto to come with him, but…
“I didn’t even hear you leave! And just because I’m going to go in there and eat it,” Naruto tried his best for a withering glare but was already failing at the slight wrinkle in Sasuke’s brow that meant he was concerned, “doesn’t mean I forgive you for leaving so soon.”
Sasuke’s hand fell from Naruto’s face, but not before it grazed down the size of his cheekbone. The feeling of something stuck in Naruto’s throat came surging back and he averted his eyes at the warmth pooling in Sasuke’s mismatched eyes. What was this fluttering, bursting pain he kept feeling? It curled just under his ribcage and seemed to only come alive when Sasuke was close, when Sasuke hurt him in the way only Sasuke could—
Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke, Naruto interrupted his own thoughts bitterly and furrowed his brows. Whatever. He’d figure it out eventually. Until then, he was going to drag every second out with his best friend that he could.
Sasuke had already made his way across the room, knowing he’d hooked Naruto, and turned back to look at him over his shoulder. “Are you coming or not?”
Of course he was. Chasing Sasuke was the only thing he knew how to do.
“Bastard,” he said, but it sounded more like always to Naruto’s ears than it ever had before.
The table was already set. Naruto glanced from the dinner laid out on his table to Sasuke with wide eyes. How did he even have time– “You went and got this right after?”
“Shut up.”
A goofy grin spread over Naruto’s face and he pulled Sasuke into a quick, unwilling hug that the other squirmed out of in a matter of seconds. Naruto let him go, not wanting to piss him off, and sat down to eat.
“Okay,” he said, mouth already half full of noodles by the time Sasuke had sat down, “you might be awesome for this. And maybe I forgive you. What do you want to do tonight? We could watch a movie or go out or I don’t know, whatever you want to do.”
Out of the corner of his eye, while eating his ramen (gods, he really loved ramen), he watched Sasuke sit back after taking a bite. A thoughtful line creased his ivory forehead, his bangs falling over his Rinnegan as he debated Naruto’s question. His eyes skimmed the room, pausing on the bookshelf and then resuming their journey back to Naruto’s face.
Tentatively, Sasuke suggested, “Hokage Mountain?”
“Aw, Sasuke,” Naruto teased, letting his fork clatter against his bowl, “do you want to watch the sunset with me?” He placed a hand to his heart in a faux swoon and snickered as Sasuke’s eyes went wide and he ducked his head to hide the pink that tinted his cheeks. His inky hair swayed slightly over his face, his full mouth twisting in irritation. How he looked so pretty while pulling such an ugly face was a mystery, but Naruto enjoyed it all the same.
Naruto leaned forward and grinned, watching Sasuke’s mood sour endearingly.
“You sure know how to woo a guy.”
“Idiot,” Sasuke muttered, his shoulders tense, “forget it.”
Naruto smiled widely, thrilled at the sight of a blushing Sasuke. The color on his high cheekbones was a rarity Naruto didn’t get to see much. He nudged Sasuke’s calf under the table with his foot and said, “No, no. I want to, you big ol’ romantic.”
Sasuke began to relax, remaining a bit pink, but Naruto wasn’t done. He shoveled the rest of his ramen into his mouth and said, casually, “You’re cute when you blush. No wonder all the girls were crazy for you.”
Naruto laughed even harder when Sasuke kicked him under the table, almost snorting a noodle out of his nose. He wasn’t wrong though—embarrassment looked precious on Sasuke. He resembled a kitten who had just been dunked in a river that might slice you to ribbons if you came too close. Naruto kind of loved it.
They made their way through Konoha like the early spring wind, slow, lazily. Naruto conned Sasuke into stopping at least four different street vendors that had taken advantage of the lovely weather, all for food of course. Except the last one, where Sasuke had given him a death glare when Nartuo had disappeared for about ten minutes and left him to fend for himself. But he’d save that for later.
The sun was already dipping below the horizon when they reached their designated spot for the evening, a nice hidden ledge between the Fourth and Fifth’s heads (behind one of his dad’s spikes of hair) that Naruto had scoped out years and years ago. He swelled with pride when Sasuke looked mildly impressed at the view. It wasn’t a big ledge by any means, so when Naruto sat down beside Sasuke, their thighs and shoulders were squished together. The swell in his chest swole even larger at the proximity, so much that he thought he might burst when Sasuke didn’t shift away but instead relaxed against him and the mountain. Entranced, both by the novelty of Sasuke letting him be this close and just the sight of him as he leaned his long, elegant neck back, head thudding against the rock as he watched the sunset. The golden light made him look so warm, so alive—
“Dobe.” Sasuke’s mouth had turned up in the corner, “You’re staring again.”
“Tsk.” Naruto shifted his eyes to the sunset, watching the rays bathe Konoha in a rich, amber orange. The nostalgia of when he would come up here by himself almost every evening and imagine what people, the families, were doing down below hit him hard. “You’re imagining things, S’ke.”
Sasuke didn’t say anything to that, but Naruto knew he’d been caught and honestly, he didn’t care. He was feeling particularly sentimental (when wasn’t he) so he leaned back, pressing further into Sasuke, and let the wind blow through his hair as he watched the sky turn blue to lavender and pink. Sasuke was unnaturally warm, but as the night gradually approached with its bitter breath, Naruto found himself grateful that the ledge was small and that Sasuke was the one to fill up the space beside him. It had felt so large to him as a child, so empty. And look at him now. He’d always imagined showing this to Sasuke, and it was just as monumental as he’d thought—maybe even more so. But his moments with Sasuke were often like that. Better than Naruto could have hoped.
“It’s nice,” Sasuke offered after a while, his rich, deep voice startling Naruto from his observation of a hawk circling a few feet below them.
“Huh?” Naruto jerked his head sideways to look at Sasuke and was caught, viscerally, like someone had him by the throat, by how close Sasuke’s face was. Sasuke blinked at him patiently.
“Oh,” he felt himself say stupidly, “yes. Really nice. Ridiculously pretty.”
Here is where Naruto’s brain caught up with his mouth—that he had said that while gazing at Sasuke and was still looking at him, couldn’t really stop looking at him, not when he was this close, why were they this close and had his eyelashes always been so long? His chin had filled out since they were teenagers, though his cheekbones were still so sleek and sloping and elegant, just like the black and lavender pools of his eyes. His eyes that were watching Naruto with incredibly dry amusement. Right. What was he thinking again? Sasuke was so close. Like, almost as close as that time at the Academy right before they–
“Me or the view?”
“Phshh, what?” Naruto’s head whipped back around to the sunset—which had slipped past the horizon—and he attempted to stop the blush crawling up the back of his neck and to ignore the shaking beside him as Sasuke laughed quietly at his reaction.
“The view, obviously,” Naruto got out, but that only seemed to make Sasuke laugh harder, and Naruto hadn’t seen him laugh in so long–
He broke and twisted back to see Sasuke’s eyes and nose screwed up, his hand coming up to cover his smile. Naruto’s heart turned liquid in his chest and burned all the way down to his fingertips that moved, without his permission, and wrapped around Sauke’s wrist to bring his hand down. Naruto wasn’t sure he was breathing. Sasuke really was beautiful when he smiled. Like, like—like starlight. Naruto went a bit red again at his own thoughts, at the way Sasuke was looking at him, eyebrows raised, his smile fading into mild curiosity.
“Uh,” Naruto fumbled, pulling Sasuke’s hand toward him like that had been the plan all along (it definitely hadn’t) and reached around into his pocket and fished his present out. He pressed the two, tiny figurines into Sasuke’s palm and curled his fingers around them before allowing Sasuke his hand back. “Here.”
Sasuke did not glance at his hand, his mismatched eyes fixated on Naruto’s face. “What are they?”
“Open your hand and see, bastard,” Naruto said with a grin, shoving his shoulder into Sasuke’s playfully.
Sasuke obeyed and unfurled his hand to reveal two, wooden carved figurines, each about half an inch in size. One was a dark yellow toad with blue eyes and the other was a black cat with gold eyes. The woodcarver had been so nice when he’d slipped away to his booth, he’d even offered to make Naruto a custom one when Naruto had lamented that the black cat didn’t have purple eyes. Naruto had assured him they were perfect. Now that he was facing Sasuke’s opinion, he wondered if it had been stupid. If Sasuke would even want something as dumb as a little self-representing figurine.
“It’s us! I’m the little toad and you’re the little cat.” Naruto pointed to the figurines correspondingly and then glanced up at Sasuke. “Do you like it?”
Sasuke’s eyes were stuck on the figurines, his mouth pinched in that funny way Naruto knew meant he was trying to smother an emotion he didn’t want Naruto to see. The problem was that Naruto wanted to see.
“Sasuke?” Naruto asked again, softer.
Sasuke’s hand closed, almost possessively, over the figurines. He didn’t look at Naruto, instead gazing listlessly out at the stars that had begun poking through the navy sky, fist clenched in front of him.
“I like it.”
He was wound so tight, with so much that he clearly refused to let go. Naruto wished, not for the first time, that there was something more that he could do. Something to ease the burden off of Sasuke’s shoulders, because wasn’t that what you did for your most precious person? Wasn’t that Naruto’s place, his purpose? Naruto reached for Sasuke’s hand and skimmed his fingers over Sasuke’s knuckles lightly.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Naruto murmured, retracting his hand when Sasuke inhaled sharply at his touch.
At his words or him pulling away, Sasuke shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible. “You didn’t upset me.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s nothing,” Sasuke said, and finally glanced at Naruto. His eyes were shining. “I—it’s been a long time since someone has given me something like this. Thank you, Naruto.”
“Well,” Naruto smiled, and this one was soft, gentle, for Sasuke, “as long as I’m here, you won’t have to go long without the little things.”
The returning smile that Sasuke gave him then was more beautiful than any star Naruto could compare him to—his next words more precious than anything Naruto owned, more precious than all of the missions in the world or love from the village he’d ever received.
“I know.”
Sasuke didn’t offer the figurines back, so Naruto didn’t ask. Hell, for all Naruto cared, he could have both of them. He felt like he’d paid pocket change for a rare jewel, the way Sasuke had smiled at him. Naruto had never seen Sasuke smile like that at anyone, before or after the war.
Every beat of his heart cried that it was special, that this was right, that nothing—no amount of time or space—could ever take or replace or even begin to compare to the bond they had. So why was it so bittersweet? Why did Naruto feel like these moments were never enough? Would he spend his whole life wanting more?
A chill of despondency ran through Naruto when they rose to return to Naruto’s apartment. He missed Sasuke’s warmth immediately, the night too chilly for the plain white longsleeve he’d opted for. They walked in complete silence and by the time that they were inside and kicking their shoes off, Naruto was sure that he couldn’t live without knowing what Sasuke was thinking. If he would miss Naruto just as much as Naruto was already missing him.
“Sasuke, I—”
Sasuke turned to him, the moonlight pouring through the apartment windows onto his flawless features. Naruto almost shook his head at his earlier thoughts. Of course Sasuke wasn’t a star. He was a colossal power, right here in front of Naruto, drawing him in with those dark eyes and electric chakra. The moon to Naruto’s sun. Here, at this moment, Naruto’s orbit was complete. In the morning, Sasuke would be gone, and he would be spinning in space again. Restless. Tired. Always searching for what was right in front of him. And yet, Naruto found himself asking the one question he had avoided since Sasuke’s arrival.
“When will you leave?”
“Naruto.”
He did not want him to go.
“When?”
“Early. Do you want me to wake you?”
Yes. No. No. How can you ask me to watch you leave again?
“Nah. I don’t want to slow you down.”
“Are you—do you want a glass?” Sasuke had slipped past him into the kitchen, and was getting a glass of water. Naruto hadn’t moved from where he’d taken his shoes off. Hadn’t taken his eyes off of Sasuke.
He didn’t understand it—the despair that was crawling up his body, hysteria and rage rearing their ugly heads as he tried to fight his thoughts down. How could he just leave again? Didn’t he know Naruto’s heart? Couldn’t he see that he took pieces of Naruto with him each time he left, and every time he returned, there was less to take? So why? Why did Sasuke insist on leaving him behind when Naruto—Naruto—he sucked in a quick breath at the terrifying thought. But he’d had it before, and here he was having it again.
He didn’t know how to live without him.
Well, he did. He could. He just didn’t want to. Never had.
“Here,” Sasuke said as he sat a glass down on the edge of the counter, like an offering.
Naruto didn’t move to take it, immobilized by the anxiety of not seeing him again. Would it hurt like this, like a knife cutting up his lungs, when he woke up tomorrow and Sasuke was gone? Or would it be hollower, emptier, like when Sasuke had discarded their friendship for power? Naruto had a feeling he knew which one it would be. And he hated it. Hated Sasuke, just for a second, for making him feel the way Naruto had felt his whole life—like nothing. Unseen. Disposable. Unwanted.
“Naruto.” Sasuke had come around the corner of the counter and was approaching him with a frown. “Is something wrong?”
Naruto acted on instinct, on the fear ripping through his body that Sasuke was leaving and he was never coming back, that this could be the last time that he ever saw him or heard him say his name or laugh or breathe, and lunged forward, jerking Sasuke into a bone crushing hug.
Naruto did not care that he could feel Sasuke stiffen. He smothered himself into all the folds of Sasuke’s body and held on like he could fit himself there forever. His forehead was pressed into the soft skin of Sasuke’s neck, his eyes shut tight as he tried to memorize the smell of him, the feel of his lungs contracting, the beat of his heart against Naruto’s.
“Sasuke,” he whispered, “be safe.”
Naruto could not let go, not yet not yet, and he nearly melted to the floor in relief when Sasuke’s arm went around his lower back and pulled Naruto into an equally bone crushing embrace. Sasuke titled his head to where his jaw was resting against the back of Naruto’s head.
“I will be,” he said, lowly, the tips of his fingers digging into Naruto’s back almost like he wanted to press Naruto into himself, take him with him. So why didn’t he?
“And you’ll write.”
Sasuke nodded against Naruto’s hair.
“And you’ll come back, asshole,” Naruto left no room for debate in his demand. “Within the year.”
He could feel Sasuke’s hesitation in the way the strong muscles in his back tensed at the ask. Naruto withdrew from the hug just enough to see Sasuke’s face. Sasuke let go of him and Naruto thought his heart might break right then and there.
But Sasuke didn’t go far.
He was scanning Naruto’s face, a flash of red in the darkness as the Mangeko pinwheeled the memory away, locking it in the photographic memory Naruto would forever be jealous of. It wasn't fair that Sasuke would remember this with perfect clarity. Maybe he could share it with Naruto, one day, when his memory lagged and things became fuzzy around the edges. Naruto hoped he would.
There was a strange look of uncertainty in Sasuke’s tomoed eyes when he brought his hand up to cup Naruto’s face. Sasuke’s touch was warm and electric, and Naruto’s blood went white hot when his thumb brushed underneath his jaw. Sasuke was close again, close enough to keep, enough to—Naruto’s eyes dropped to his mouth and then back up to his eyes.
Sasuke let his hand fall and promised, “I’ll come back.”
When Naruto woke in the morning, the little black cat figurine was sitting on his nightstand. A sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and as he reached out to pat a good morning between the cat’s ears, the hollowness felt a bit less hollow.