A/N: Yeah, yeah, suck at writing, Sasuke OOC, should get my ass back to Teen Titans…this is my first anime fic, so it is up to you, my loyal reviewers, to point out all the half-assed mistakes in here!
Disclaimer: Dude. If I owned Naruto, Sasuke would so be ravishing Sakura right now and Naruto would be slurping Ramen with Hinata.
It was all Naruto's fault. Yes. He was definitely to blame. After all, it wasn't as if it was a surprise. How many times had Sakura kicked his ass (with super-strength, she might add), and how many times had he gone ahead and been a completely blockhead anyway?
She didn't how Hinata could stand it. She really didn't.
He just had to get his daily helping of Ramen, didn't he? He just had to drag all of them over to Ichiraku's, practically inhale that bowl of miso Ramen before realizing he was late for a meeting with Hinata-chan, and disappear faster than he had eaten the Ramen (which was quite a accomplishment, actually), with Kakashi hot on his heels, since the new volume of Icha Icha Paradise had been out and he just had to replenish his porn stock.
This of course had left a very disgruntled Sasuke to pay for the maniac's Ramen bill, and a completely oblivious Sakura, who was dreamily fantasizing over her newest romance novel (It was Kakashi's birthday gift. They had made him exchange it twice at the book store until they got a sappy, sickeningly sweet teenage romance instead of his usual porn).
It had started raining when they were walking home. Thin, silvery slivers of liquid that quickly turned into fat, mini-hailstone sized drops that left water stains the size of the full moon on their clothes. Sasuke gave his signature grunt as he batted at his carefully spiked ebony locks, feeling the wetness seep into his scalp. Damn rain.
"C'mon, Sasuke-kun! Walk faster, slowpoke! I am not going to ruin my dress by getting soaked!" Sakura gave him a small, graceful wave before briskly resuming her walking, eyes glued to the miraculously dry pages of that damn novel.
'What is so interesting about that book?' Quickening his pace just enough to peek surreptitiously over the pink-haired girl's shoulder, he straightened his slouch and sped-read a paragraph. His eyes widened in surprise.
Appalling. This stuff actually was for teenagers? He suddenly developed a great sense of foreboding for Icha Icha Paradise. He stole a glance at Sakura. The girl's bottle green eyes were lidded with concentration as she silently registered each line. She actually knows all about these…activities? He was sure she didn't even truly know the meaning of the word 'kiss'.
The author would like to add that the weather gods were NOT in a good mood, or they really had to pee, judging by the steady on pour of drizzling water and the ominous cracking of thunder that whipped across the sky. Sakura had even tucked her book away in her waterproof bag, trying to shake the water from her roseate locks.
"Mou, Sasuke-kun! Tsunade had already told us that this storm would be one of Konoha's worst! We have to walk faster!" As if to emphasize her point, the girl began to break out into a run, trying to dodge the rain that pounded down from the heavens without mercy.
It was raining so hard, actually, that the little droplets of water kept rebounding on their skin, creating a silvery little aura around their bodies as a thousand raindrops fell and splattered with icy intensity all over them. It was beautiful, the girl and the boy in the rain, with the skin of spirits, surrounded by the pattering of droplets.
Well it would be, if the girl wasn't trying to get out of the rain, and the boy wasn't holding her back. "Sasuke-kun! Let me go! We have to leave before we get completely soaked!"
"Do you know what a kiss is, Sakura?" Sasuke Uchiha looked expectantly at the pink-haired girl, his rippling black eyes reflecting in her green tea colored ones, hands entwined tightly with hers.
They were standing in the middle of the freaking road, in one of the worst rainstorms in Konoha history ever, and the former love of her life (former. She got over him, goddammit. She really did!), Konoha's number one heartthrob, Sasuke Uchiha was asking her what a damn kiss was.
Un. Freaking. Believable.
Fine. Two could play at that game. Averting her gaze to the rainwater water sluicing down in the gravel in icy ribbons, Sakura tucked a sodden, freezing piece of carnation-colored hair (why the hell did everybody always go on about her hair!?) behind her damp ears, and answered.
"I imagine it usually involves two pairs of lips, and mutual affection, does it not, Sasuke-kun?"
He chuckled, a low, deep, chocolaty baritone that sent chills of warmth tingling up her limbs, numbing her rain-smothered skin.
"People kiss for many more reasons than that, Sakura, and in many more places." His fingers were hot on her stone cold senses as they curled in the concave behind her ear. "There's the chaste kiss, the ones you sometimes give the dobe if he didn't piss you off," He let his lips graze almost tenderly against her abnormally large forehead and her darkened bangs. "There's the kiss that's so surprising and intimate that people will always use it their advantage."
With that, he caressed her back, hands indenting her soggy, heavy, freezing clothes, and swept his mouth from her neck to her earlobe in a feather light kiss, his hot breath melting over her. His touch trailed a path of popping sparks on her skin.
"S-Sasuke-kun, wha-what are you—" She was instantly silenced as Sasuke, in the lightest of moments, the slightest of touches, touched his lips to hers.
"Surefire way to get someone to shut up, Sakura," His words danced in her ear, caressing it, the heat making her shiver. How funny. Sasuke-kun made her feel so hot, a whirl of passion and warmth, yet made her shiver as a tingle ran through her body at the same time.
Then she remembered what he said about shutting people up, and (thankfully) her water-logged mind instant switched to 'indignant' mode. "Ugh! Sasu—" Not fast enough. Before she could even get his name out, Sasuke had pressed a cool, completely-drained-of-blood-white finger to her lips. White against red. Virgin snow against bloody rose. The contrast was stunning and serious. Rainwater leaked into her lips, and she briefly tasted the tang of it.
"There are also kisses, Sakura, that talk." He explained huskily to her, in such a sultry voice that it seemed that the water droplets turned to steam as his words hung in the air, her body tingling with anticipation.
"Aa." She deadpanned, in a quite frighteningly accurate impression of a certain vampire-skinned Uchiha. "They also sing and do darling little musical numbers, right?"
"Hn." Ah. Now that was more like Sasuke. "They can speak, Sakura. You just have to be smart enough to understand what they're saying."
"Oh? As much as I'd like to hear about that, Sasuke" She noticeably dropped the kun from his name, hoping to signify she was getting seriously pissed now. Goosebumps kept on erupting over her frigid skin, no matter how much she rubbed her arms to stay warm, and catching a bad case of the flu was not on her weekend to-do list. "But can you get to the point, you chicken-haired pretty boy, before the streets start flooding and we get swept away to some remote island with nothing to eat but raw coconuts?"
…That girl drinks too much caffeine for her own good. Hanging around with the dobe probably didn't improve matters.
"One phrase, Sakura. One phrase." One phrase that could fold into a thousand, into a million different others, but would always boil down to that single exclamation.
"One…" He couldn't look away. Those jade orbs were pinning him down with so much emotion, so much comprehension, that his body and mind faded away, his sense dulled so the heavy pattering of rain felt like the smallest brush of cherry blossom petals, so he could only feel, hear, see, taste one thing.
The concentrated beating of his own heart.
It was utterly inevitable.
The taste of lips on lips, cemented with the trickling of droplets as two rain-soaked lovers kissed on a random street in the middle of one of the worst storms to ever hit Konoha. The perfect blend of cherry Chapstick, chocolate, deep red cherries and rainwater, as slender fingers went to cradle his bent neck, splayed out against his hair, his own hands fitting perfectly into the curve of her waist. The tongues of flames that ran through their veins seemed to sizzle and spark against the mind-numbing cold, and the absolutely beautiful feel of the rain.
It was beautiful. It was clichéd. It would be one hell of a cold later, but you just can't seem to stop perfect little moments like these.
It was their first real meaningful kiss, and goddammit, it was one of the best kisses to have ever been received.
It was still raining when they stopped, embraced and walked home slowly, her head on his shoulder, two silhouettes as one, completely oblivious to the drafts of icy cold wind and water-soaked skin.
It was still beautiful.
Tis the season to be jolly, people, and I get jolly when I get reviews.
So let the reviewing start!