Destiny Cuts the Cake of Love (three slices to some; to others, a crumb)

Title: Destiny Cuts the Cake of Love (three slices to some; to others, a crumb)
Author: Timothy Wren
Fandom: Naruto
Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uzumaki Naruto/Uchiha Sasuke (ot3 Team 7)
Genre: Anime, Time Travel, Romance
Warnings:  Underage. They’re teenagers in this. I’m going to be very frank in saying that there are references to the first fic in the series, Sakura’s initial time travel, where they did some over-the-clothes frottage during Wave era (at 14 or so). I headcanon them as a little older than they were in canon in this AU series, but it’s still teenagers fucking teenagers. References to “that one time” aside, they’re all around 16-17 at the time of this fic.
Word Count: 5,222 (complete)
Summary: Sakura came back in time years ago and during those years– between saving the world and various missions– her teammates have been going just a little bit nuts. Naruto and Sasuke were not prepared for a Sakura who can literally move mountains. Luckily for them, “Team” means more than anything, and they find she’s entirely willing to get underneath the underneath of the sheets.

Or: In which Team Seven comes together, finally.



“But what if she—she hasn’t said anything. What if she doesn’t want to?” Naruto says, almost muffled by how close they are, pressed up against the wall while Sakura moves through the kitchen, cooking and humming.

Sasuke scoffs.

“It’s not like that’s ever stopped you before.” He points out.

“You can’t just randomly kiss people!” Naruto hisses, and Sasuke flushes hard.

“Why not? You did.” He says, embarrassed and annoyed, like the idiot is being obtuse on purpose. Naruto sputters for a minute.

“Who have I ever randomly kissed?” He protests, in a loud whisper-yell.

Sasuke boggles at him.

Me!” He throws his hands up in utter frustration.

“That was an accident.” Naruto says, confusion and outrage in his tone, like he doesn’t expect Sasuke to even remember it.

“… it was?” Sasuke’s voice is quiet. He blinks.

“You… thought it wasn’t? An accident, I mean.”

“Idiot.” Sasuke huffs, turning away from him. “How the fuck do you kiss someone on accident.”

“Well, you know, the guy in front of me bumped into—wait, Sasuke?” A hand on his forearm that he roughly shakes off. “Hang on, you thought–?”

“Shut up.” Sasuke growls. “It never made any sense to me, that’s all.”

“You thought I just, what, randomly kissed you?” Naruto laughs a bit in his confusion, trying to work it out.

“Shut up.” Sasuke says, angrily. “Who knows why you do anything.”

“I wouldn’t just kiss you like that!” Naruto’s hands are up, moving through the air as he tries to explain.

“Well that’s not what it seemed like at the time, okay!?” Sasuke shouts back, not even knowing why he’s raising his voice. The whole conversation—the whole situation—is ridiculous.

“Are you guys talking about your first kiss?” Sakura asks curiously, pitching her voice as she flips an omelet.

“No!” They both deny, loudly, colorfully, and still in each other’s faces from where they’d been stealthily watching her.

“Well.” She grins. “That’s… believable.”

“Did everyone know it wasn’t on purpose, except me?” Sasuke demands. “Like you all saw him get… ‘pushed’ or whatever?”

“Yeah, kinda. It was pretty infuriating at the time, since I spent all my time dreaming about kissing you, and Naruto beat me to it without even meaning to.” She says with no self-consciousness at all.

“Wow, Sakura! You’re never embarrassed about anything!” Naruto marvels.

“What’s there to be embarrassed about?” She asks, casually flipping the eggs high in the air and catching them again. “You’re my teammates. You’ve seen me covered in blood, kissing kind of pales in comparison.”

“It’s never your blood.” Sasuke points out, and her laughter rings through the kitchen.

“True but like. Modesty doesn’t really have a place on a team.” She grins cheekily at them. “You ought to know that by now.”

“Uh.” Naruto says, scrunching up his nose. “Um. I want to kiss you.” He blurts, almost too fast to parse.

Dobe.” Sasuke hisses at him, like a wet cat, like they haven’t spent the last two years grudgingly opening up to each other about their mutual, helpless, unasked-for desire to be held down by their other teammate.

She would do things like fall asleep in their laps or drape arms over one of them, not even a drop of body shyness. They got flustered around her strength, her bold laughter, her bloodthirsty skill, but she never even noticed. The first time she stripped down in front of them, during a mission about a week into her time travel, she’d been genuinely confused by their sudden screaming.

“Okay?” Sakura asks, a touch confused. “What’s stopping you?”

She turns off the stove and turns to watch them, bemused, hip leaning on the counter.

“Uh.” Naruto says eloquently.

Two years ago—hell, even ten months ago—Sasuke might have tossed up his hands in a rage, letting anger guide the conversation because it was familiar, comfortable. Easy. Now he was used to the support, the comradery, the comfort in the dark with two bodies pressed against his.

But never like that. No matter how much he and Naruto commiserate about uncomfortable mornings and make silent, mutually suffering eye contact over her head when they go to bed, some nights.

Not since that first day.

“It’s not like. You. We.” The words won’t come. He can feel his face heating up again. Sasuke sighs. “You don’t just randomly kiss people.”

“Well, Naruto does.” She grins. The blonde in question squawks. Sasuke buries his head against Naruto’s shoulder.

Two years ago, anger was the majority of his life. Now, he won’t explode just because it’s easy. He’ll lean into the perfect trust of Team Seven because it’s easier, trust born of long practice.

“You’re really comfortable with us.” He tries to say, only slightly muffled in Naruto’s light blue shirt. “We’ve been sleeping in one bed for years. The first day you got here—”

He can’t. He buries his face fully into the idiot’s shoulder and doesn’t even scowl when a hand pats the back of his neck consolingly.

Naruto shivers under him, remembering.

“God, you were such a brat. But hey, you didn’t leave the village, so.” She grins, fond. “Team bonding works! Also, I’d have pulled Orochimaru’s teeth out of his head if he tried that shit again.”

“Team bonding.” Naruto says, sounding strangled. “Is that what you call it?”

“Well,” Her eyes glitter. “I know we’re a lot closer than my Team Seven ever got, even at the end when we were all that was left.”

They turn solemn, as they always do at the reminder of how the world almost fell to destruction. How it did end, in that other timeline, and would have here, too, if she hadn’t come back changed. Different.

Naruto’s hand stroking across his neck becomes more of a pet, slow and contemplative. It’s Sasuke’s turn to shiver. He fists his hands in the blue fabric, thankful for the nth time that it’s not an orange jumpsuit.

Sakura glances down at the plate of eggs she’s finished and the final omelet still in the pan, at the rice waiting on the counter.

“Oh yeah, breakfast is ready.” She says, belatedly.

Most times they didn’t even notice when they fell into bed half-dressed. It had become normal, as easy as breathing, the intimacy between Team Seven. It was only sometimes—most often in the morning, and especially on days like this where they had nowhere to be—that Naruto and Sasuke would wake up and see the only boundary they had left, the miles of naked skin that might as well be an ocean between them.

That morning, Sakura had gotten up to make breakfast because it was her turn, and Naruto had buried his face into the abandoned pillow between them and groaned. Sasuke had patted his back consolingly.

“I know.”

“Shut up, at least you know what it’s like.” Naruto’s hips wiggled against the sheet, toes digging in. Sasuke could feel the drape of the blanket over his own waist, a weight he could easily imagine being—someone. One of his teammates sliding astride him.

Once.” Sasuke protested, rolling his eyes. “One time, back when I could barely unclench enough to enjoy it—”

His fingers trailed lightly down to Naruto’s waistband and he yanked his hand away.

The blonde turned his face and blinked one eye up at him blearily.

“She held you down and fucked against you. Ugh, I’m so jealous.”

Sasuke shivered, swallowing hard.

“You’ve been jealous for two years. I’m jealous of me.”

Naruto had grumbled nonsensically into the pillowcase.

Most days they were busy. They had other thoughts, distracting thoughts. They would be spread across the living room, each doing their own task—seals or sharpening weapons or researching—and existed in an easy equilibrium. Even more often they were on a mission or fell asleep instantly, exhausted from training. Most days Sasuke woke up with his face on Naruto’s chest or Sakura’s bicep or someone’s thigh and didn’t think about grinding against them until they both came gasping.

Most days.

But some days, they had nothing to do, and Sakura made breakfast.

Knowing Naruto was hard next to him did not make it easier for Sasuke to refrain from sliding his hand down into his boxers, fuck up into his own hand until he made a mess between his fingers, imagined Naruto turning to watch with burning blue eyes and a hungry expression—

Sasuke had hit him with a pillow and stumbled out of bed and into an unsatisfying shower.

Naruto’s hand pauses for a moment, holding Sasuke’s head close to him. Sasuke can feel him swallow, before he lets it fall, nudging the Uchiha up so he can peel himself off the wall and take the turn into the kitchen.

Naruto’s face burns a little but he ignores it, thinking they’ll talk more about it later—that he’s getting a reprieve, a chance to pull his thoughts together and try again in a bit. He’s almost managed to change his thoughts entirely to breakfast and not his teammate wearing one of his shirts and scant else.

She snags him by the waist as he walks by, humming. He goes, because they always go when another teammate moves them around, often laughing or exasperated, and he’s not—

He’s not expecting her to crowd him against the counter and kiss him.

Sasuke makes a shocked sound by the kitchen entrance and Naruto almost thought it was his noise, but he’s too surprised to even gasp as she tilts her face up easily, so easily, and presses soft lips to his own.

His hands fall onto her hips. She’s wearing his shirt. She’s always wearing their clothes. Her hands tighten on him briefly before she’s lifting and Naruto finds himself on the counter, Sakura sliding between his legs, up close and personal. Her teeth graze his lower lip, tug on it gently, and he’s lost.

“Oh god, that’s so hot.” He shudders, and she draws back just to press laughter against his mouth. Sasuke is suddenly behind her, his arms winding around her middle, and she sighs, pleased, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

Aside from the kissing, they’ve almost done this before. It’s not unusual for Sasuke to drape himself over someone’s back in the morning, sleepily following them around the kitchen like that. It is unusual for Sakura to wind her hand back around his neck and tilt back to kiss him, too; unusual, but not strange.

It feels like they’ve been doing this forever.

“Hey, Sakura?” Naruto asks, leaning forward until he can brush his lips against the bared column of her neck, until he can feel both of their breath, he’s so close. “It doesn’t pale in comparison.”

Her laughter rings out, unexpected.

He touches a kiss to the hollow of her throat, a whisper of pressure. She softly disengages from both of them, sliding to the side out of the way.

“I’m so fucking happy I came back.” She says, quietly, caught in a rare moment of emotion that isn’t anger or amusement. “I can’t—I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

She blinks back a tear and Naruto feels alarm jump in his chest, frantic. He looks to Sasuke to see the surely mirrored emotion there, but then their positions register. Sakura is over there; what she left behind is Naruto propped up on the counter, and Sasuke a foot away, between his spread knees.

One step would place him flush to Naruto’s chest, where she had been a moment ago. The tension stretches like ninja wire between them.

“Mmmmh,” Sakura hums, all trace of sadness swept away. “You two haven’t kissed since that day, right?”

“Since the accident.” Sasuke mutters, pissy, and Naruto can’t help but laugh.

“I thought you knew!”

“Well, I didn’t, so.” He glares, unamused, and Naruto reaches out a hand to snag his shirt, draw him closer. Sasuke allows himself to be moved, taking that step that puts them dangerously close.

Naruto presses his forehead against his, and Sasuke relaxes completely. This, too, is familiar. Safe.

“That explains so much about how mad you were.” Naruto realizes, voice raspy with contained laughter. “You were so pissed off those first few weeks, and then Sakura showed up all hot and dangerous and held your punk ass down.”

Sasuke shivers against him, unable to stop a smile in remembrance.

Both of my teammates were crazy and rude.” He allows. “But you never kissed me again. That, more than anything, threw me off. Why do it once? I didn’t know what made you do it, so I always thought… always wondered if something would make you do it, again.”

He cut his eyes to the side, at where Sakura was watching them with unabashed lust.

“And you just fucked me in the dirt and never touched me again. The crisis I had.” He grumbled. “I couldn’t sleep next to you for months. During the chunin exams, I just laid there, wide awake, remembering your hands around my wrists.”

Naruto breathes out shakily; they’re so close Sasuke can feel and hear it.

“Dumbass.” Sakura says, fondly, though her voice has dropped an octave and they both react to that. Her hands curl around his wrists from behind, a sense memory that reaches through time to punch him in the dick.

She presses up to him from the side, leaning around so she can see them both, so small—lithe and powerful—and Naruto sucks in air, harshly.

“All you ever had to do was ask.”

She grinds against his hip, a bit, and he can imagine her biting her lip for it, a coy expression that’s not shy, at all, and Naruto’s hands tighten on his waist, fingers digging in, and Sasuke hisses.

He opens his eyes to see brilliant sapphire looking back at him, blue fractured in sunlight, and his eyes dip down before he can help himself. Naruto makes a shocked little sound and Sasuke shivers, unable to look away, unable to—

One of Naruto’s hands goes to his chin, catching it and raising it so Naruto can touch his lips to Sasuke’s, a warm gentle press. He melts into it, weak.

“Best timeline ever.” Sakura sighs, pleased, and her fingers tighten obligingly around his wrists. He groans. Naruto’s breath shudders out to hear it, hands shaky, and Sasuke crowds closer against him, can’t help himself, loses himself in the kiss.

The stars align, the morning light slants through the kitchen window, and Team Seven’s very last boundary crumbles into quiet dust, like it was never there in the first place.

Sasuke bit his lip, pulling away. He opened his eyes to see Naruto’s face, eyes still closed, burnished soft and gold, and had to look away. He swallowed hard.

“So—” He starts, and stops, aware of how breathless he sounds. Sakura presses up against his hip and he remembers she’s wearing a small pair of black underwear and Naruto’s shirt. “There was.”

Naruto takes the opportunity to shyly press his mouth to Sasuke’s ear, brushing his lips slowly down the side of his neck.

“Yes, Sasuke?” Sakura drawls, merciless, and he is so very, very aware of her hands around his wrists. Of how despite the light touch he’s not going anywhere unless she wants him to. Unless she allows it. Of how he’s bracketed in by Naruto’s legs.

“There was something you said once.” He murmurs, trailing a hand softly over Naruto’s shoulder—she does allow it, moving her arm with his, keeping him held nice and trapped.

“Oh? Was it the last time we did something like this?” She grins against him, moving into him, a little grinding motion that makes her breath fall short, and when he realizes exactly what she’s doing it short circuits his brain.

“Mmh.” He groans, wrecked. Naruto takes a bit of skin between his teeth, teasing, and Sasuke breaks out into a sweat.

“What was it?” She asks, nosing against the outer shell of his ear.

“You—you said. You wouldn’t ever hurt us. In a way we didn’t ask for.”

Naruto moaned hot against Sasuke’s neck. Sasuke’s fingers tightened involuntarily in Naruto’s shirt, felt Sakura’s hold that much more keenly on the flexing tendons near his thumb.

She’d said it as she held him down, and later that day, again she’d repeated it, when they’d found their way to Naruto’s apartment directly following that first meeting with the Hokage (the one where they read Tobirama’s—clearly self-serving—law about letting a time traveler do what they want, if they were acting on a Hokage’s orders and not being a psychopath about it. Sakura had called the Nidaime an asshole with such personal fondness in her tone, which left them all reeling except, perhaps, the Hokage himself, who agreed.)

Sasuke had followed them home—to the apartment that they apparently shared, now– naturally unwilling to let her go without more demands—without figuring out what the fuck was happening.

“Naruto, the Ramen is still here.” She’d called out, more focused on the ginormous armful of take-out she’d insisted on bringing home, and he’d scrunched up his nose at the idea.

“Won’t it be cold?” He’d shuddered, as if cold ramen was the antithesis of the good of hot ramen he worshipped.

“Sealed it.” She said through a mouthful, eagerly beginning to eat. “Y’know—preservation seal. It’s still hot, still fresh. The noodles won’t even be soggy.”

Naruto had looked at her with stars in his eyes.

“Sakura-chan.” He breathed, soft, hushed, revenant. “I think I love you.”

She swallowed her alarmingly large bite almost too fast, laughing as she said: “Well. Fair is fair.”

Sasuke had stumbled as he made to sit down on the couch, looking at both of them with wide eyes. Naruto looked at her, perched on the edge of her new bed, with shock plain on his face.

“I already said, didn’t I?” She shrugged easily under the weight of their stares. “I love you both too much to describe. I won’t ever hurt you in a bad way.”

“I–” Naruto looked like that was way too big a concept to unwrap, so he didn’t even try, eyes going misty. He looked away from her, then right back, as if he couldn’t bear to not see her expression.

Like she might not be real.

Sasuke had almost asked then, what she meant—how on earth you could hurt someone in a good way. But Naruto had powered on to ask her about what rank she’d been, in the future, and Sasuke had narrowed in on the topic of her prodigious strength with avarice.

It had lingered in his mind ever since, a curiosity swimming to the forefront when he had almost—almost—forgotten about it. When he let his guard down, when he couldn’t forget the way she’d slammed into their lives, unexpected and unflinching, unstoppable. Strong enough to hold him down, confident enough to tease him, to—

Her hands around his wrists, pinning him, as she grinned playfully and threatened to hurt him in a way he’d like, endless fantasies spawning off of that one point, the mysterious promise that made him break out in a swift sweat.

“Oh, love.” Sakura let go of his wrists to slide her hands, hot like brands to Sasuke’s primed, eager sense of touch, all the way down to his hips, where she gripped hard. “Have you dreamed about me hurting you?”

Naruto makes a wounded noise against his neck and Sasuke pants, suddenly sweating as surely as if he were in a tent next to both of them, drowning in thoughts he couldn’t escape about their hands on him, the way—

The way they were right now, touching him, kissing him. Sakura’s mouth brushed his bare shoulder and he shook a little.

It isn’t pain, per se. She holds him tight and isn’t quite bruising, isn’t hurting him, but the suggestion is there, enough to send his blood rushing through his veins. Oh, he thinks. Fuck.

Naruto hums, then shyly bit a little, and that should have hurt, too, should have—but didn’t. Warmth floods through him, fire chasing an oil spill, and his whole body lights up from within.

“Oh, fuck.” He gasps and Sakura grins against his skin, holding him. He is pressed between them and it is just as good as he’s always imagined. Naruto laughs, voice low and raspy, and Sasuke’s pulse trips into a sprint.

Naruto closes in to kiss him again and it feels like the first time, like an explosion, a beginning, soft and perfect— Sasuke sucks air in harshly through his nose like a wild animal, but the feral quality soon leaves his eyes and tense shoulders. He lets out a wounded noise and leans into the kiss, pressing his lips back against Naruto’s.

“Naruto.” He says into the other’s lips. “Naruto.”

His fingers clench tight, hands splayed helpless along Naruto’s thighs.

She presses up more fully behind Sasuke, her chest bolstering his back and side, and he relaxes into her gratefully. When he pulls away from Naruto– who himself is a gorgeous picture, expression soft and relaxed, eyes fluttered shut—Sasuke’s lips are still wet and parted, eyes dark, and his frame tensed like a livewire.

Sakura wraps an arm around Sasuke’s waist in support, tucking her chin over his shoulder. Naruto leans forward and gives him another kiss, long and lingering. When Naruto pulls back, Sasuke moves to follow, stopped only by Sakura’s hold on him.

“Sometimes,” Sakura says, pressing kisses up from his shoulder the whole way, hugging him tight against her front, “It can hurt in a good way. In the best way.”

She’s half-thought Sasuke would be into this a hundred times if she’d thought it once. She brushes her teeth softly, far too softly to hurt, across the side of his throat, where his pulse still rabbits from kissing Naruto and his breath rushes quickly yet.

“Kissing.” She mouths at the side of his neck, pausing only to check on Naruto—who has pulled back enough to watch, enraptured– and employs the little play of sucking and hint of teeth that would worry the skin into a bruise. He shifts against her, restless, throat closing around sounds he won’t loose.

“Biting. Like Naruto showed you.” She pulls off to gently bite down closer to his shoulder, at the dip where his neck met his collar, still playful– but enough of a nip to tease, and he jerks against her. Against them.

“Sometimes people like nails, running down their back or ribs when they’re being fucked.” She watches the casual use of the word shiver down Sasuke’s spine, feels it against her chest from their closeness, hears his breath rattle inside his.

“Naruto, come a little closer.” She entreats, and he has to blink a little before the words register, blue eyes having been narrowed on them with laser focus. He lets his palms rest on Sasuke’s chest.

“Here, Sakura?” His words waver a little, eyes dark and intense.

“Mm. No, closer.” she reaches out with one hand and guides him until he’s on the edge of the counter, until his thighs are pressed tight around Sasuke’s own.

“Like this?” His voice purrs out, shockingly deep, raspy. Sasuke shudders against her and she grinds her hips against him, a steady press.

“What are you–” Sasuke’s words crumble in the air as she releases him, slowly and smoothly, to guide Naruto’s hands to Sasuke’s thighs. When he has a good grip, she curls her fingers over his and encourages it tighter.

They make eye contact and whatever Sasuke sees in Naruto’s face has him looking away, pink.

Sakura presses a kiss to his jaw, mouths a line of fire to his earlobe and teases it with her teeth.

“Some people like a bruising grip against their thighs.” She says, hushed, confiding. “When they’re being held against a wall; when they’re bent in half in bed, knees by their ears.”

Naruto holds on a little tighter, an echo of her earlier grip, and Sasuke chokes back a moan, imagining it all too easily. She brings a hand around and cups his cock from the front, caged in layers. He bucks against her hand, startled.

Naruto sucks in air like he’s been punched in the chest.

“Some people,” She continues, like she hasn’t noticed, increasing the pressure of her hand until it is trying to press into his pubic bone, “like a little pain with their pleasure, Sasuke. Are you one of them?”

He opens his mouth—not sure if he wants to tease her right back or breathlessly agree– but can only moan as she begins a rough little knead against him. Naruto is so close that the motion of her hand rubs her knuckles against his similarly hard cock.

“Oh god.” Naruto laughs, rocking into it, which of course rocks him into Sasuke, into Sakura’s hand between them both, and it maybe shouldn’t have worked but it did, Team Seven together, all pressed close.

Sakura gropes against him in a parody of a handjob, more pressure than stroking, and he flexes up against her anyway, panting, hyper-aware of the warmth of her behind him, the steady hold Naruto has on his hips. It’s good, it’s almost too much, it hurts in the best possible way, heel of her palm hard against him.

It’s startling when her fingers slip away, no longer between them, and Sakura regrets nothing because she can see the exact moment their hips make contact, because Naruto’s eyes jump wide and Sasuke bites off a curse with too many vowels.

“Sage, you two look good together. Always have.” Sakura is not the champion of steady breathing her own self. Naruto’s eyes flick to hers, from Sasuke’s face to hers and again, and she obligingly settles one hand softly against his cheek, pulling him in for a sweet kiss just a few inches away from Sasuke, still trapped between them– where he should always be, in her opinion; where he is least likely to run off on them, and more likely to get off on them.

Naruto gasps a little into the kiss and she shows him the way of it, the gentled press and the soft suck and the tiniest brush of teeth across the same lip.

He pulls back dusted pink in the cheeks, blinking with wonder.

Then Sasuke thrusts against him, a helpless press of hips they can all feel, and Naruto throws his head back with a low moan, always so open and loud with his feelings, with his shameless pleasure, and Sakura has to press her face into Sasuke’s shoulder and groan at the sight of it.

Her boys jerk and press against each other, back and forth like waves, and she can’t help but grind against Sasuke’s hip, grind against him seeking her own pleasure, and think that with six hands, three mouths, and two dicks between them there must be a better way.

“I vote we take this party to the bed.” She says, unsurprised to hear her own voice throaty and breathless.

“Mm, mm, seconded.” Naruto pulls away from a desperate kiss to laugh, Sasuke chasing him, and then they’re kissing so passionately Sakura has to bodily pull them away from each other to get anything done.

Sasuke groans hard to be manhandled—nice to know, that, though obviously she’d suspected; though obviously anyone with a brain suspected—and Naruto leans back weakly on his elbows to watch the show.

“Thank fuck we have the day off.” Her blonde hums, and Sasuke looks too wrecked for human speech, eyes a void in his face and body faintly trembling.

“I thought you’d be much more suave than this.” She laments, to Naruto’s breathless laugher, and Sasuke musters up the will to scowl at her.

“Give it time,” He insists. “Fuck, I think I’m entitled to be overwhelmed for a bit. I’ve only been thinking about this for years.”

She has to press him against something for that, and the nearest vertical surface is the kitchen wall—closer to the bed but only by a few steps, and she growls her frustration into the kiss, Sasuke with his back flush to the wall and all but melting against her, and Naruto sidles up against them eagerly.

She grabs him by the collar and shoves him forward through the doorway next to them, pushing him closer to the bedroom and the convenient horizontal surface. He has the gall to laugh.

Then she backs up enough from Sasuke to toss him in Naruto’s direction, who catches him with obvious delight, pulling him into another enthusiastic kiss, and of course she has to stop and watch that, heart thundering in her chest, because it’s Naruto and Sasuke pressed up against each other in the middle of their living room, wrapped around and into the other, and it takes several long seconds before she can shake herself out of it and make it to the bedroom door.

Naruto’s hand reaches out to snag her as she walks by, and she has to dodge out of its way lest she be pulled into a make-out session that is not in the bedroom, and he breaks the kiss to curse under his breath, and Sasuke chooses that moment to look deeply into their teammate’s eyes, weaponizing his flushed, thoroughly-kissed face.

“Usuratonkachi.” Sasuke says, something silent passing between them, and suddenly Naruto can’t disentangle himself fast enough. He picks her up on the way to the bed and she screeches a laugh, startled, and watches Sasuke from where she’s slung over Naruto’s shoulder.

He’s smiling—shamelessly, openly smiling—and doesn’t whip the expression away when he catches her watching.

Naruto tosses her onto the bed and climbs in after her,

“Hi.” Sakura whispers, biting her lip against a helpless grin. Naruto smiles like a burning star, the sun shining through the clouds. He reaches a hand back blindly and Sasuke takes it, will always take it, and allows himself to be pulled into the bed next to them, fingers entangled.

Sakura trails her fingers over the back of Sasuke’s hand, tracing his knuckles; watches him swallow harshly. He looks at them like they’re everything he’s always wanted.

“We’ve got time.” She says, reassuring, and he snorts out a laugh.

“We’ve wasted far too much of it.” He counters, still huffy, and Naruto laughs, drawing him closer, making room for him until they’re all tangled together and nobody is sure where one body ends or begins.

“It’s never a waste.” Naruto says, firmly, pressing kisses into his skin and hers indiscriminately. “Not when it’s you two. Not when it’s us.”

“Agreed.” Sakura says, unable to help her smile, and Sasuke makes a noise of protest that nobody is kissing him—or at least that’s how they both interpret it—and then there’s quite a lot of kissing, and more teasing and grinding and gasping, and names groaned into the sheets, hands clasped together and wrists held down, until the sun creeps high in the sky and starts to fall again, the day spent learning the depths of each other’s pleasure.

They make up for lost time, and then some.

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