Work Text:
Sasuke was already in a sour mood when he arrived at the gym. He was coming straight from rehearsal, where his director had made him go over the same monologue four times in a row while the rest of the cast listened to him apparently fail to properly convey the shattered dreams of the narcissistic male hustler he was portraying. Then, as he was on his way out, he was unsubtly propositioned for the eighteenth time by Karin, his scene partner, for whom molesting him in the role of an aging film star for twelve hours a week apparently wasn’t enough. Then, as usual, he got stuck in traffic on the 405.
He’d thought when he got this part that everything was about to change for him. Even if it was just LA theater, with an airheaded director-for-hire who was still licking his wounds after being fired from the most recent Marvel movie, still, starring in a Tennessee Williams play had been his dream ever since high school, and after three years of booking nothing but skincare commercials he was more than ready to finally do some real acting. But the whole thing was just a nightmare. Everybody on set was straight, except for him, and naturally understood nothing about the play, which was already not exactly Williams’ magnum opus. Every day, pulling up to rehearse, he had to walk by the famous sci-fi actor who’d gotten the role Sasuke really wanted in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof , which was supposed to be running as part of a series with their play to boost ticket sales, but which he already knew would just end up dumping crowds of unintelligent green-screen fanatics into their audience night after night. And if any casting people did, by some miracle, show up, Sasuke was apparently on track to give a completely unconvincing performance anyway.
He swiped his membership card at the desk, and the automated LCD screen popped up with his name and asked him to check in for his personal training session. He did, signing his name with an unenthusiastic finger flourish, and the screen blared with a green check mark, informing him he had five of his eighteen classes remaining to redeem. Sasuke was already aware. Itachi was the one paying for these, one of many far-too-extravagant gifts he’d tried to press onto Sasuke since getting his insane Silicon Valley job straight out of Berkeley. This one was supposed to be a combination birthday-and-congratulations-on-the-starring-role present, a year-long gym membership with complimentary training package. “To get you in shape to play Chance,” he’d said, jokingly, and then, in a much more familiar overly-concerned-older-brother tone, “But seriously, it’s really important to stay active when you’re prone to depression. The endorphins make a big difference, trust me.”
Sasuke still had yet to confirm this difference. Hopefully he’d get some kind of chemical boost that day, at least, if not exercise-induced then at least from whatever dopamine was released in the brain of a gay guy who hadn’t had sex in seven months upon the sight of a bunch of dudes lifting weights in gym shorts. But even that was a disappointment. Hardly any even half-sexy guys attended Sasuke’s location. Hardly. Of course there was one notable exception.
“Hey, Sasuke!” He heard the clang of a locker opening near his own. He didn’t have to look over to know who that voice belonged to. But he looked anyway, and was rewarded, as he knew he’d be, with the all-too-familiar sight of the hottest trainer at Equinox, a brief-but-tantalizing glimpse of tan abs and a long strip of downy blond chest hair that led straight from the torso down to an elastic waistband and…
“Hey.” Sasuke put his eyes back on the floor. Naruto wasn’t even his trainer. He was way too friendly. Not just to Sasuke, to everyone—his raspy chorus of “hey!”s was practically as consistent a soundtrack in the gym as the upbeat electro-pop they played over the speakers all day. Sometimes those “hey”s were punctuated with a comradely slap on the shoulders or, once, memorably, a thigh, when Sasuke was on his back doing crunches. This time he was busy changing from one ratty tank top into another, slightly less sweaty branded one.
“How’s life?” Naruto asked him. “Everything chill?”
“Fine.” Sasuke rifled aimlessly through his gym bag, trying to stall.
“Great!” said Naruto. He made even small talk sound sincere. Sasuke didn’t know how he did it. Didn’t he get tired? “Hey,” he said then, leaning a thick forearm on the locker in front of him. “So there’s kind of a thing today.”
“A thing?” Sasuke straightened up and looked at him. Naruto scratched the back of his neck a little sheepishly.
“Yeah,” he said. “Uh, Kiba’s sorta…not here.”
“What?” Sasuke looked at his watch. The time was right. Which he already knew. “When will he be?” he asked. Fuck this. Maybe he’d just go home. “He’s supposed to call me when he needs to reschedule,” he added, bitchily, unable to help himself.
“I know.” Naruto made a gesture with his hand for Sasuke to keep it down. “He just texted me,” he said, his voice a hoarse stage-whisper. “Something happened with Akamaru, he’s gotta be out today. But he’s already in trouble with our boss, he can’t no show again, he’ll totally get fired, ya know?”
“So?” Sasuke folded his arms. “How is that my problem? I’m paying for these sessions.” Or Itachi was. Whatever.
“I know, I know! That’s why he asked me. He said if I could cover for him and train you, just for today, and just tell Kakashi you were cool with it…is that okay? Just for today?” Naruto gave him a bright and hopeful smile.
Sasuke grumbled a little. There was a very significant reason he’d picked Kiba over Naruto to be his trainer, despite the former’s idiocy and constant lateness. These sessions were supposed to be for his mental health, as Itachi had said, and his mental health had never once been improved by uninterrupted hours of physical contact with hot built straight guys. Not that Kiba wasn’t good-looking—he had a handsome face, and his body wasn’t bad either. But he constantly smelled of wet dog and left hairs of unknown origin all over Sasuke’s gym clothes and chewed too much gum and used words like “sick” and “radical” with no irony and the overall package was just, mercifully, a major turn-off. Besides, he was a brunette, and brunettes just…never really did it for Sasuke.
What did it for Sasuke? There was one very simple answer to that question: blondes. Sometimes it disturbed him how simple his desires were, but Sasuke couldn’t help it. His first-ever sexual experience had been with a surfer in a not-very-private cabana, after dark on a summer trip to Santa Barbara when he was seventeen, and ever since then it had pretty much been over for him in terms of aesthetic preferences. Nothing made his knees shake like the sight of a guy with shaggy sun-bleached hair and muscular arms and a big, head-empty smile—exactly the kind of smile that was currently beaming in front of him, waiting for him to agree to get pressed into the floor for the next ninety minutes by its owner.
“Ugh,” Sasuke couldn’t help muttering. He was screwed either way, if what Naruto was saying was true; if he complained, and Kiba got fired or suspended, he’d have to find somebody else to train him anyway for the next five sessions. And if there was even a chance that somebody would end up being Naruto—no way. His current celibacy just couldn’t withstand a whole month of that. “Fine,” he said, and grabbed a pair of shorts grumpily out of his gym bag. “Now can you please give me some privacy so I can change?”
“You guys usually start out with the bike, right?” Naruto asked, still grinning, when Sasuke came out onto the floor to start their workout. Sasuke just grunted. He was already dreading being watched by Naruto as he pedaled, lifted, whatever, even though logically he knew that would be the least painful part of the next hour and a half—after all, it involved minimal physical contact with big strong tan arms and legs. He couldn’t even think about that right now. One thing at a time. Sasuke got on the machine and adjusted the presets to his usual pace.
When he started to bike, though, he had only a short moment of peace before Naruto furrowed his brows and leaned over to look at the screen in front of him. “Is this what Kiba has you on?” he asked. The back of his head was in front of Sasuke’s face, thick blonde hair forming swirly cowlicks that Sasuke could have reached out and traced with a finger. He clenched his fist instead.
“Yeah,” he said, “usually.”
“Oh, man.” Naruto shook his head, moving sandy strands back and forth. He smelled like sweat and Axe. “He’s such a slacker. Let’s try a little uphill, ‘kay?” He tapped a few places on the screen and straightened up, folding his arms. “Give that a shot for me.”
Sasuke did so, and immediately felt the burn in his upper thighs. He must have grimaced a little, because Naruto made a “pfft” noise with his mouth and shook his head again.
“Come on, dude! This is baby stuff. If you were my client I’d have you going twice as hard as this on the daily . Man, Kiba’s such a pushover.”
“That’s why I’m not your client,” Sasuke said between clenched teeth as he pedaled.
“Not with that attitude!” Naruto bent over and locked eyes with Sasuke, meeting his dark gaze with a crystal-clear Pacific-ocean-blue one. Fuck. “I’ve been watching you,” Naruto said, lowering his voice just slightly in a way that made Sasuke’s stomach feel watery. “You’re a really hard worker. I know you can do more than this. I don’t think Kiba’s been pushing you close to your real potential.” This kind of attention, Naruto staring at him like that, praising him, was way too much. Naruto put a hand on top of Sasuke’s on the handlebar, and Sasuke looked away from him, staring straight across to the other wall of the gym like it was a physical representation of the abyss of horniness he was currently falling straight into. “Will you try for me?” he heard Naruto ask him, the hot feeling of his skin on Sasuke’s knuckles blocking out every other sensation. “Just today? I know you can totally take it.”
Sasuke kept staring straight ahead. All he wanted was Naruto to take that hand off his. He was absolutely not going to get a boner in the middle of the Equinox floor. “Whatever,” he forced out, and, thank God, felt the weight lift off his hand.
“Awesome!” Naruto said, and literally pumped a fist like a character in a cheesy 2000s movie. “Okay, now get back to it! Let’s go!”
Sasuke hadn’t even realized he’d stopped pedaling. He started back up, staring down at the screen underneath him instead of looking at Naruto, who was currently bouncing up and down on his toes in excitement. “Whoo!” he heard Naruto say loudly. “Let’s go! Gimme two more minutes and then I’m raising your pace! Come on!”
Oh, great. Sasuke shut his eyes tight and tried to focus on each push of his legs. But when Naruto increased the resistance, as he’d promised, it got even worse. Not in terms of difficulty so much—Naruto was right, of course, that Kiba basically went way too easy on Sasuke and had never even gotten close to pushing his limits physically—but in terms of the very real risk of mid-workout arousal that Sasuke was using every last brain cell to fight off.
“Come on!” Naruto was saying as Sasuke began to slow down, pushing against the incline the high-tech bike was simulating. “Harder! You can do it!”
“Shut up,” Sasuke grumbled, and heard Naruto clap his hands.
“That’s the spirit!” he called, apparently perversely pleased by Sasuke’s irritability. “Push yourself! Come on, ride that shit!”
Oh my God, thought Sasuke. Naruto had to be kidding him with this.
Nope. “Harder!” he was saying now, apparently completely oblivious to the effect his words were having on Sasuke. “You can take it! You want it, right?” Sasuke gritted his teeth. “Come on,” he said, and Sasuke could practically hear the stupid grin in his voice. “How bad d’you want it? Tell me!”
“Shut up ,” Sasuke repeated.
“Say it!” Naruto insisted. “You want this! I know you do! Say you want it!”
Not in a million years, thought Sasuke. Not until tonight, at least, when he was already planning on jerking off at least twice to the memory of Naruto saying those exact words while fucking him hard enough to break his flimsy Ikea bed frame.
“You’re doing great,” Naruto beamed, panting almost hard as Sasuke was. “Now come on, just a little more. You got this, baby!”
Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Sasuke bent his head down even further. “Don’t…say…that…” he muttered, and dug his nails hard into the handle of the bike, trying desperately not to think about Naruto repeating what he’d just said with his cock in Sasuke’s mouth, pushing what he just knew that idiot had to be packing even deeper into his throat— fuck ! Sasuke pressed his forehead into the panel of the bike. He could feel the machinery grinding under his feet, resisting him as he pushed with all his burning muscles into it, and imagined his own lonely insides while he did, catching on fire from heat and dryness and lack of contact. God. He was so totally going to murder Kiba after this.
The next few activities went pretty much the same, just worse and worse, if that was possible. Sasuke’s overactive and extremely understimulated brain would not stop feeding him sexual interpretations of pretty much every word and movement and breath Naruto took, and that combined with the very strenuous workout Naruto was giving him was making every inch of him feel weak and hopeless. After a brief stop at the weight machine (Sasuke on his back, Naruto leaning over him, adjusting the scale, corny crystal necklace dangling over his face the way he always imagined it would if Naruto was on top of him…) Naruto quickly realized Sasuke was way better-suited to cardio, having done track in high school, which Naruto clapped in excitement when he heard about. He put Sasuke through a torturous session of crunches and curls and push-ups (chanting encouragement from behind Sasuke, a steadying hand on his ankles, then with Sasuke prone, facing him, again, Naruto helping him bend his legs up to his chest…) then finally let him use the treadmill for the last twenty minutes. When he was done, Naruto clapped again and pointed to one of the mats on the floor.
“Okay!” he said. “Time to stretch!”
This was what Sasuke had been dreading. Not just because of Naruto, either. Even with Kiba he sometimes enjoyed this part of training a little too much, on those rare days when Kiba wasn’t rambling on the whole time about teaching his dog to fetch him energy drinks while he played Fallout. There was just something about having a big guy on top of him, pulling his arms and legs until the muscles burned in just the right way, that pressed every single one of his buttons. Buttons which had already been pressed into near-oblivion by the activities of the past seventy-five minutes and an enthusiastic un-tireable blonde jock asshole he was probably functionally in love with at this point.
“Okay,” said Naruto again once Sasuke was sitting on the mat, pulling his own arms over his head in exhaustion. “Can you turn over for me? On your hands and knees?”
Could he. Sasuke tried to brace himself as he assumed the position. Naruto put a hand on the small of his back and one on his calf, then started pushing his leg forward, stretching the muscles in his upper thigh. Sasuke breathed in and out slowly. It felt really good, and Naruto’s hands were warm and firm and deliberate, manipulating his body easily like he knew they would. He tried not to imagine them all over him, sliding up his leg and into the hem of his shorts, caressing his ass, moving between his legs to touch his—
No. Focus. Focus. He could think about that stuff later. He was already planning on diving deep into Naruto’s Instagram page when he got home, which he’d shamefully stalked only once before—not even his fault, Kiba followed him and Naruto was tagged in one of his posts, a group photo of all the trainers getting drinks at a sports bar, Sasuke hadn’t even sought his page out, seriously—to see that it included a treasure trove of sweaty workout photos and shirtless beach pics. He even had a stories highlight titled “Deadlifts,” which Sasuke had managed to resist up til now, since he knew his username would show up if he looked at it and Naruto ever checked the views. He already knew the temptation was going to overcome him that day, though. Like it even mattered. If Naruto hadn’t realized by now that Sasuke wanted his dick, he was the dumbest dumb jock who ever lived. Which, of course, was still a very real possibility.
Naruto was stretching the other leg now. He pushed it a little farther than the left one, and Sasuke grunted a little, feeling the burn. Naruto’s grip tightened on his skin. “Yeah?” he said, his raspy voice a little extra raspy, unless Sasuke was imagining it. “That’s okay?”
“Mm.” Sasuke gave him a tiny nod.
“Good,” said Naruto. “Y’know, when you work out extra hard you gotta stretch extra hard, too.” Riveting philosophy, Sasuke thought. Then Naruto’s other hand moved to hold his bare thigh, and his mind blacked out any and all thoughts completely.
“Great!” he heard Naruto say after a second that lasted approximately eighty-five years. “Okay, you can turn over. Almost done.”
Weakly, Sasuke rolled onto his back and stared up at the dingy white ceiling. Again, Naruto took hold of one of his ankles and started to slowly work his leg into a folded position. His other hand held Sasuke’s shoulder, keeping him prone against the mat. “You’re doing really good,” Naruto said to him offhandedly. “I told ya, Kiba totally doesn’t see how hard he could be pushing you. I’m gonna tell him you guys should be doing more. You did really good today. I knew you could.”
God. Sasuke closed his eyes. Naruto’s words were, embarrassingly, hitting him almost harder than the hand on his skin was. He hadn’t even realized how depressed he’d been about the play, about never getting a positive note from a director who he knew had probably never even heard of Stella Adler or the method, just “more passion” and “project your voice” and “we need to see your motivation,” over and over again ad nauseum for a month. It wasn’t like Sasuke had daddy issues exactly, but, well, his dad was dead, and the closest thing he had to a father figure was an overbearing and overachieving older brother whose accomplishments had consistently overshadowed Sasuke’s own ever since his birth. So yeah, maybe he needed a little bit of validation every once and a while. And if that validation happened to come from a toe-curlingly-hot blonde ex-college football player who was currently bending him in half with one arm, then could anybody really blame him for filing it into a very special place in his personal bank of masturbation material?
“Okay.” Naruto let his ankle go and moved to grab his other leg. “Next one.” Sasuke opened his eyes and let himself watch as Naruto, mouth half-open, hovered over him, focusing those beautifully empty blue eyes on slowly stretching Sasuke’s leg up and into his chest. Yep. This was pretty much exactly as hot as he’d imagined it would be. Naruto pushed him a little more, a tiny grunt escaping from his mouth as he moved over him. Sasuke bit his lip. Naruto, noticing, flicked his eyes up to Sasuke’s face, then back to his leg.
“Yeah?” he asked absentmindedly. “Y’like that?” Oh God. He was literally trying to kill Sasuke. There was no other explanation for it. Sasuke closed his eyes, trying to focus all his brainpower simply on not getting a boner, not getting a boner while Naruto was on top of him, not getting a boner while Naruto’s hands were touching him, and then those same hands pushed his leg up into a position that released a hot flood of tightness in his sore tendons, and it felt so good , Sasuke could feel all the muscles in his leg crying out, and it was such a relief after the long and hard workout that he actually—yep—right there—
Sasuke actually moaned .
He snapped his eyes open and stared up at Naruto above him. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Oh God. What was actually wrong with him? Did he need a fucking exorcism or something? Did he need to lock himself away from human eyes for the rest of his life? Yes, definitely, that was sounding more and more appealing with every passing second.
But all Naruto did was grin. He held his position for one more second, then slowly let Sasuke’s leg down, straightened it out, and stood up, holding a hand out to help him up off the floor. “I know,” he said, smiling that awful bright angelic smile down at Sasuke still motionless below him. “Sometimes a stretch like that just hits, right?”
Sasuke pushed himself off the floor, not taking Naruto’s hand, thank you very much. In fact he was hoping at that minute that Naruto never felt the need to have any kind of physical contact with him ever again.
“I guess that’s our time,” said Naruto. “But seriously, great job today.” Sasuke just pushed his sweaty bangs out of his face and looked at the floor. Naruto hesitated, then looked up at the digital clock on the wall. “Actually,” he said, “how are you feeling? I could tell that last one kinda took it out of you.”
“Fine,” said Sasuke, barely audibly.
“Cause, like, I was gonna ask. I don’t have any more clients after this. And you know how I’m getting my massage therapy license and everything—” Sasuke most certainly did not. The fact nestled itself firmly into his already stuffed spank bank as soon as he heard it. “I was just wondering,” Naruto continued, “like, you’re obviously pretty tight at the moment. No offense! But if you wanted, I could totally give you a quick rub and try to loosen all that stuff up a little. If you wanted. If you have time.”
Sasuke just stared at him. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The thought was so tempting to him, so unbelievably erotic, that he knew with every inch of him that he had to say no. And yet... “I don’t know,” he said, barely getting each word out against the strength of his desire. “Maybe some other time.” Okay. It wasn’t quite a refusal, but it was pretty close, and at least now he’d have something to get himself through the next few sessions with Kiba, who he was already imagining abducting and murdering just to get the chance to be stretched like that again by Naruto. No . That was exactly the opposite of the way he should be thinking.
“Okay.” Naruto shrugged. “No worries.” He smiled at Sasuke again. “Happy Friday!”
Sasuke thought he was safe. He thought he’d gotten through it, was free and clear, free to drive home and drink a glass of wine or three and ignore his roommate and lock himself in his room while he fantasized himself into oblivion. But no sooner had he exited the locker room into the lobby than Naruto advanced on him again.
“Hey!” he said, and grinned. He was now in a third tank top, this time with an orange and black biker jacket over it, and his hair looked like it had been attacked extremely unsuccessfully with a brush. “Sasuke!”
“Hi,” said Sasuke. “What?”
“You doing anything tonight?”
Fingering myself to your selfies, Sasuke thought. What he said instead was, “No. Why?”
“Cool!” said Naruto. “Cause I was supposed to hang with Keebs tonight, watch the Lakers game and everything, but since he’s M.I.A. I don’t have anybody to come over anymore. I got all these really good snacks and everything! Would you wanna hang? You like the Lakers, right?”
What was this. Sasuke shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stared at him. Naruto smiled wider. “Yeah?” he asked hopefully.
“Naruto,” said Sasuke. “You know I’m gay, right?”
Naruto scrunched his eyebrows into a frown. “Huh?” he asked. “I mean, yeah.”
Oh. Sasuke had been expecting him to be shocked. Not that he’d been doing a great job of hiding it that day, but the way Naruto was acting it was like he had absolutely no idea what it meant for a man to be attracted to him, and he’d sort of hoped to repel him with the information and at least get him to leave Sasuke the hell alone. Whatever. “Well,” he said, a little lamely, caught off guard, “you know, when you ask somebody who’s gay to, like, massage them, and then you ask them to come over to your house, alone, a lot of people would interpret that as hitting on that person. Just so you know. For the future.”
Naruto just looked at him with those big baby blues. Ugh. Sasuke felt like such a dick. He swallowed, tried to think of something he could say to soften his rudeness, and while he was coming up with it Naruto scratched his head and said, “Well, like...yeah. I know.”
“Huh?” Sasuke snapped his eyes up to Naruto.
“Like...” Naruto pouted a little, looking off to the side. “I mean, that’s cool and everything. You’re not into it. No hard feelings. I just thought there was kind of a vibe or something. But—”
“Are you serious?” Sasuke’s whole mouth felt dry. “Were you really asking—”
“It’s really fine,” said Naruto. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. We can just—”
“Where do you live?” Sasuke didn’t let him finish. Naruto looked up at him when he said it, the smile coming back to his face.
“Goddamn motherfucking LA traffic,” Sasuke said upon entering Naruto’s apartment, which was in a building not even two miles away from the gym but which took nearly thirty-five torturous minutes in his car. “I swear to fucking God, this fucking city, I’m this close to packing my shit up and—”
“You gotta use Waze,” Naruto said, grinning widely at him. The jacket was flung over a green sofa, and this new tank top was accentuating his arms somehow even better than the last two had. “It’s way more accurate.”
Sasuke stared at him for a minute. His frustrated road-rage heartbeat was receding, and he was finally starting to realize that he was actually here, in Naruto’s apartment, possibly going to have actual sex with the guy he’d been lusting after for months, the guy who was now standing in front of him looking somehow hotter than he’d ever seen him. Said guy opened his mouth. “You want a beer?” he asked, and smiled some more.
“Just shut up,” said Sasuke, and pressed himself into Naruto’s firm and broad chest and kissed him.
Sasuke had only kissed a few people since his dry spell started. He kissed Karin a lot for the play, of course, which sucked, and he’d had to make out with a whole slew of models a few months back for a very weird commercial audition he didn’t even end up booking. And once in a while when Suigetsu, his roommate, came home particularly drunk from a party or a catering job, they sometimes ended up fooling around a little on the couch, but both of them agreed they were way better as friends and didn’t want to complicate a decent living situation by going further than over-the-pants stuff. But, in general, Sasuke loved kissing. And he really, really loved kissing Naruto. He tasted so good, and smelled so good, too, the scent of his skin strong against Sasuke’s nose, it was almost overwhelming, and Sasuke was embarrassed to hear himself groan into Naruto’s mouth when he felt the hint of a tongue pressing into his own lips.
Naruto smiled against his mouth and gripped the hand he was holding against Sasuke’s back even tighter. Sasuke licked behind his teeth, sucked on his bottom lip, felt the wet spit rubbing between their mouths and wanted to cry, it was so hot, he was already so fucking hard without anything even touching his dick, he had no idea how he’d be able to last more than five seconds when they actually fucked before coming all over Naruto’s stupid gorgeous stomach—and then fuck , his mind blanked out again, because that big warm hand was coming to rub him firmly over the bulge in his jeans and oh God . Sasuke moaned again. He couldn’t help it. Naruto made a deep throaty noise of his own, grinning, using his other hand to pull Sasuke’s head to the side by the back of his hair, God that was hot, and pressed his lips and his teeth to Sasuke’s neck.
“You’re so cute,” he said as he sucked Sasuke’s tender skin, making his already-exhausted legs feel even weaker. “I love your gym days so much, when I get to see you on that bike, wearing your little shorts—” He was still rubbing between Sasuke’s legs. Sasuke gripped him with both hands on his shoulders as if for dear life. “God,” Naruto whispered. “When I stretched you and you moaned like that it was seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. I wanted to fuck you right there on the mat.”
“You should have,” Sasuke groaned into his ear. “I wanted you to.”
Naruto pulled away and looked at him, still smiling widely, face now flushed pink and lips red from friction. “Really?” he asked, sweetly, innocently, idiotically. Sasuke just shook his head in disbelief.
“Yes,” he said finally. “Jesus. I’ve been staring at you every day since I started at the gym. Have you seriously never noticed?”
Naruto chewed on the corner of a lip, still smiling shyly. “I dunno,” he said. “Maybe a little.”
Sasuke rolled his eyes. Then he reached for the hem of Naruto’s tank top and pulled it off him, revealing the broad expanse of blonde chest he’d been almost literally drooling over for four months. He pressed a hand to it, magnetized, felt the warmth and firmness of Naruto’s six-pack under his fingers—he was so fucking hot, it was stupid, it shouldn’t be legal—he reached his other hand over to wrap around one of Naruto’s biceps, too, and felt the muscles tense and bulge out as he flexed a little under Sasuke’s palm. Sasuke groaned, felt his stomach curl with heat that seeped down into his crotch and thighs, wanted nothing more than for Naruto to get on top of him and rail him into unconsciousness. He dragged his fingers to the soft hair in the middle of Naruto’s chest and caressed it, following the line slowly down his stomach, and then pressed his mouth to it, too, opening his lips to taste the golden strip that had featured in so many of his horny fantasies. It was perfect. He could taste Naruto’s skin, his sweet musky smell, a little of his sweat—it was obvious he’d showered, like Sasuke had, after their session, but their makeout had already made both of them hot and exerted all over again. Naruto made a grunty noise above him and Sasuke felt the vibration against his mouth, dragged his tongue further down, bending onto his knees on the floor, licking the happy trail all the way to the waistband of Naruto’s mesh shorts. Then he grabbed the shorts and the top of Naruto’s boxers and pulled them both down.
The sound Sasuke made once Naruto’s cock was in front of his face was somewhere between a whimper and an unenunciated curse word. Holy fuck, was his main thought. He’d been right all along: it was fucking big. For Sasuke, who—partially by choice, partially by circumstance—hadn’t seen an actual dick that wasn’t his own or on a phone screen for over half a year, it was like a sign from above, blaring in bright neon lights that YES, it was time for him to break his period of celibacy, and that time was RIGHT FUCKING NOW. He didn’t hesitate. He opened his already-watering mouth and started licking it.
“God, Sasuke,” he heard Naruto groan above him as he tried, slowly but determinedly, to get as much of his dick into his mouth as he possibly could. The words made him even hotter. Naruto’s big hand gripped in his hair and he shut his eyes tight, feeling the scrape against his throat, tried not to gag because the feeling was better than anything, better even than what he’d imagined, and he never wanted it to end. He sucked and licked at everything he could, grasping with a wet hand at the rest of him, and didn’t even care when he felt the spit on his chin and heard himself making tiny desperate noises because obviously Naruto didn’t care either.
“Fuck,” he was whispering, and Sasuke could feel him trying not to thrust himself into his mouth, trying to be thoughtful and a gentleman, and an insane part of him wished he’d just do it and make Sasuke gag and cough and cry because he wanted it all that bad. “God,” he heard from above him, “that’s so good, you’re so good, your mouth is perfect.” His voice was so hot, raspy and ragged and turned-on, and when he spoke it was like he knew exactly what Sasuke wanted, needed to hear. Sasuke thought maybe he was falling in love. He tried to open his throat even more, moaning a little to make it easier, and Naruto responded with his own loud whine. “Yeah,” he was groaning, “please, just a little more, baby, you’re doing so good, you’re so good to me…” Sasuke was almost choking but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t believe Naruto hadn’t come yet—Sasuke was close to coming and he hadn’t even touched himself—he wondered dimly if Naruto’s stamina at the gym was any indication of his stamina in bed, in which case Sasuke was in for the best night of his life. Already, hearing Naruto call him baby was unhinging some feral part of himself, some needy vulnerable wildness that he’d tried to shove down where he could never reach it, where it could never hurt him. Wherever this thing with Naruto ended up going, Sasuke knew there was no scenario that didn’t end up hurting him somehow, and in every scenario he was equally sure it would be worth it. While he was thinking all this stuff he was brutalizing his own throat with Naruto’s cock and kind of couldn’t breathe and it was actually starting to really kill. Then Naruto made a gaspy choking noise and Sasuke felt the hand in his hair grabbing and scratching and pulling him off, his mouth suddenly heartbreakingly empty, and looked up at Naruto, who was panting and red-faced.
“Fuck,” he said, and instead of pulling Sasuke to stand back up, he lowered himself, coming down to meet him on the floor where Sasuke was still kneeling. “You’re amazing,” he said, and reached over to brush Sasuke’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes. Sasuke was wiping the spit from his chin with a hand, and Naruto took him by the wrist and kissed him, then moved his mouth down to lick the wet parts instead. Sasuke closed his eyes and sucked on Naruto’s upper lip. He felt delirious from horniness and overstimulation and lack of oxygen and thought in that moment that Naruto was the only thing he ever wanted to feel for the rest of his life.
“Hey,” he heard Naruto say, and felt the hand in his hair come down to caress his cheek. “Can I touch you now?” He stroked Sasuke’s face, then pushed his fingers down under the neck of his black t-shirt. Sasuke licked into his mouth a little more before nodding, a small noise coming from the back of his throat as Naruto pulled off his shirt. “Come on,” he whispered, and took Sasuke’s arm and led him into the bedroom.
“You don’t have a bedframe?” Sasuke mumbled when he opened the door. Not that he really gave a shit. He would have let Naruto fuck him on the bathroom floor if he wanted. Naruto just shrugged a little sheepishly.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I keep meaning to figure it out.” He was unbuttoning Sasuke’s fly while he talked. His own dick was still out, still wet from Sasuke’s mouth. Sasuke couldn’t help pawing at it, rubbing his hand and then his thigh against it as Naruto pulled down his jeans to his ankles. “Does it bother you?” he asked, pushing Sasuke on his back onto the mattress. Sasuke shook his head.
“I don’t care,” he said. “Just fuck me already.”
But Naruto was taking his time. He kissed Sasuke again, on top of him, grinding their sweaty bodies together, his tongue playing leisurely with Sasuke’s between their mouths. Sasuke arched his back up into him, reached down to rub Naruto’s hard-on with his own, but Naruto took his arm and held him by both wrists above his head, immobile. Sasuke bit his lip, felt his heartbeat increasing at the feeling of Naruto restraining him, but all Naruto did was slowly drag his mouth down Sasuke’s neck and chest, sucking hard enough that Sasuke knew his pale and sensitive skin would be covered in marks the next day, and thrilled at the thought. When he felt Naruto’s hot mouth on his dick he shivered, aching so badly to be touched that it was like a physical need, an emptiness in his stomach that cried out for the soft sweet licks Naruto was giving him, and all he wanted was for it to be more and harder and then he felt a firm hand on his thigh and felt his hips being lifted off the bed and then Naruto was turning him over onto his hands and knees for the second time that day and this time instead of stretching him Naruto was—um—he was—
“Guh,” Sasuke said, which was probably supposed to be a word. Naruto was very much absolutely licking his hole. Sasuke had only ever had two guys try to do that to him in his life, and both times he’d categorically refused, completely unwilling to ever let a casual hookup (since of course he’d never had an actual boyfriend) see him in that exposed and intimate a position. Half the time he didn’t even like to fuck face-to-face, for God’s sake. But for some crazy reason—and it wasn’t just that Naruto was probably the hottest guy he’d ever been with, maybe actually the hottest guy he’d ever seen in real life, at least the one he was the most personally overwhelmingly attracted to—Naruto just had this way of breaking down all Sasuke’s dearly-held and extremely-well-fortified emotional walls, and in a way that wasn’t even like breaking anything but rather melting something away so gently and naturally that you couldn’t even remember if it had ever really been there at all, or why. All of which was to say that at that moment Sasuke was getting eaten out extremely enthusiastically and extremely skillfully and not only was he not disliking it but in fact he was instead burying his face into Naruto’s yellow-stained pillow and moaning like a total fucking slut.
“God,” Naruto said, interrupting his crazy like-how-the-fuck-did-he-even-do-that tongue maneuvers and rubbing in gentle circles at the wet place with a thumb. Sasuke stuck his head harder into the pillow and whined. “I love the sounds you make,” Naruto rasped, “you’re perfect, Sasuke, seriously.” He took his finger away and stuck his tongue inside. Sasuke made some more of the aforementioned sounds. He couldn’t believe how good it felt, almost cursed himself for never letting anyone do it before this, except that no, it had to be Naruto, nobody else could ever have lived up to what he was doing right now with his insanely talented filthy fucking mouth. The feeling was so intense and wet and quivery that Sasuke felt like he might just break open and spill his insides out all over Naruto’s floor. He could hear himself as if from outside, unable to control the porn-star moans echoing from his lips, and somehow that too was turning him on even more. He felt another finger touching him there, about to enter, and Naruto asked, panting a little as he spoke, “Do you wanna come? Now? Like this?”
Sasuke didn’t answer, breathing too hard to speak for a moment, trying to form thoughts. He gripped the pillow tighter in his hands. He did, he did want to, wanted nothing else besides what Naruto was doing to him right then, couldn’t bear for him to stop, except— “No,” he panted, breaking his own heart a tiny bit with the word. “No. I want—” He tried to finish, but the words were stuck in his throat.
“What do you want?” Naruto asked him. He felt a hand stroking his aching thigh and squeezed his eyes shut.
“You,” Sasuke mumbled, half-shy and half-desperate. “Fuck me. Now.”
“Okay,” he heard Naruto say behind him, “okay,” and felt his wet lips kissing the crease between his ass and his upper thigh before the weight behind him on the mattress lifted, springs creaking, and Naruto left him alone in the bedroom. Sasuke pressed his face into his hands. He felt insane. He could hear the door of the bathroom opening and felt his chest literally seize thinking that he was actually going to have Naruto’s huge perfect cock inside him within minutes. Horribly, with that insistent pessimism of his that could never just let him enjoy one single moment, he was already thinking about how crushed he’d be when this was over, when both of them finished and he’d have to drive home and sleep in his own bed and wonder if the next time he went to work out Naruto would avoid his eyes or make some awkward small talk that made it clear he’d just wanted Sasuke’s ass and gotten it and now he didn’t need anything else and besides he probably only really dated girls anyway. And Sasuke would mope hopelessly around trying to catch a glimpse of him training somebody else and eventually stop going to the gym altogether because it would make him too depressed and he’d hate himself and lay in bed alone after every miserable rehearsal, trying to remember the scent of Naruto’s sweaty hair and the taste of his mouth and the way he’d said baby, Sasuke, baby, you did really good, you’re perfect. But eventually it would fade and he wouldn’t even remember that anymore.
“Sorry,” he heard Naruto say breathlessly from the other side of the room. “I couldn’t find my stupid lube, I thought it was in the cabinet but it wasn’t, I forgot where I put it, I knocked over all this stuff looking for it. Sorry.” He was coming back to the mattress, standing over Sasuke, looking like some kind of goddamn Greek statue towering naked and hairy and golden above him. Sasuke just gazed up at him with glazed-over eyes and an open silent mouth as he watched Naruto rip open a condom and put it on and start rubbing clear jelly all over his big callused fingers.
“Are you still good?” he was surprised to hear Naruto ask then. He bent down to kneel on the mattress next to Sasuke and moved a hand to hold him by the soft spot under one of his knees. Sasuke swallowed and grabbed at the string of Naruto’s crystal necklace and pulled him close, stuck his tongue into Naruto’s mouth, tasting the wet lips and teeth and tongue that moments earlier had been doing things to his insides that made his legs shake. Soon, mercifully soon, he felt Naruto’s slippery fingers probing into those same insides, sending hot shivers through his aching torso as one, then two reached into the lonely place deep in him that hadn’t felt anything but his own touch in so long. He was moaning again, head flopping back limp as Naruto worked his hand in, painful and burning and then so so good and then another one burning him again.
“That’s okay?” Naruto asked him softly, brow furrowing slightly in concentration, his voice gentle and serious the same way it had been hours earlier when he’d been stretching Sasuke out in a whole different way. “You like it?” Sasuke just nodded, blushing a little at the feeling of Naruto’s focused attention, though he knew his whole face was so flushed and hot that it wouldn’t be noticeable anyway. Naruto stroked his damp hairline at the same time as he brushed a spot with his knuckles that made Sasuke’s whole body jerk at the feeling.
“Just do it,” he said, clenching a fist in Naruto’s sheets, “I’m ready,” even though he knew secretly he probably wasn’t, even though he felt a hint of genuine fear at the prospect of something so big going inside him, fear mixed with dizzy anticipation and desire and excitement. He wanted it to hurt. He couldn’t take it anymore, this sweet gentle tenderness that felt like feathers brushing just-barely-there over his skin, raising cold goosebumps and making him shiver and cry out for something substantial, something real. He breathed slowly, steadily, trying to relax his muscles as Naruto pulled him close, raising Sasuke’s hips up to himself with his free hand. Carefully, the tip of his tongue visible at one corner of his mouth, he manipulated Sasuke’s body into position, one leg bent, muscles stretching hotly, and, slowly—lovingly, Sasuke thought, hating himself but unable to unthink it—pushed into him.
The noise he made sounded like pain, he knew, and with his eyes closed he felt Naruto’s concern through his skin, as if there was a psychic bond between them. It was pain, a little bit, but also everything else, pleasure and need and satisfaction and disbelief that whatever he’d imagined, whatever he'd hoped for, feeling Naruto inside him was a million times better, more intense, just more . It was perfect. Every tiny movement he made—and he was moving now, gently but deliberately, each time going a little further in—each new centimeter he touched sent heavy floods of heat through Sasuke’s every limb. He felt so sensitive, so hot, like a baby, drowning in warmth and sweat and sensation, and that’s what Naruto was saying to him, now, too, baby, you’re so good, you’re doing so good, baby.
“More,” said Sasuke, because it was all he could say. “Please.” And Naruto listened. He gave Sasuke more, more of himself and more force and more pain and more heaven, and more praise, too, whispering in Sasuke’s ear words he knew he’d never ever forget as he bent over him and went deeper inside than anything had ever been before. Sasuke closed his eyes and let himself disappear, losing every part of himself that wasn’t Naruto’s smell and voice and hands rubbing his dick and his chest and the perfect hot filled-up feeling inside of him. When he started to feel the pressure hitting relentlessly against the most sensitive part of him, he grabbed Naruto’s hair, pulling it, begged him not to stop, and for the third and final time Naruto turned him over and ground himself into Sasuke until his vision darkened with pleasure and he came, collapsing in Naruto’s arms with a moany curse, feeling him stroke Sasuke’s hair and pant harder as he sped his own movements up and fucked inside of him hard and fast until finally he finished too.
When it was over Sasuke couldn’t move his legs. He didn’t realize it at first, because he was so satisfied and exhausted and elsewhere that he just lay there on the mattress next to Naruto as they breathed, not talking, just breathing. But when he finally tried to shift himself over on the sheets that were itching with sweat underneath him, he felt the burn of his muscles from the hard workout they’d done that day and the long and intense sex they’d had and the helpless shaking feeling of his orgasm and knew his legs would be like rubber if he tried to put any weight on them at all, so he tried, and they were. He groaned and heard Naruto’s own wordless question sound in response.
“You broke me,” Sasuke said to him. “Your stupid workout. And your stupid giant cock. I can’t even move.”
He heard Naruto laugh next to him, then groan. “God,” he said. “Sorry.”
Sasuke turned his head to the left and looked over at Naruto, who didn’t seem all that mobile either.
“No,” he said. “Thank you.” He met Naruto’s eyes, felt the sweat dripping from his hair and his eyelashes, felt himself spent and laid out motionless on his back, and was struck with the eerie and unshakeable conviction that somehow, somewhere, he’d done this before. That they both had. Neither of them said anything. He turned and looked at the ceiling.
After a moment, he felt Naruto shift to nuzzle his face a little against Sasuke’s arm. Sasuke closed his eyes. Then he heard Naruto make an embarrassed sort of whiny sound.
“I have to tell you something,” he said, and Sasuke turned to look at him again, saw him casting his eyes shyly down and screwing up his face. Sasuke felt a familiar drop in his stomach, sure he was about to hear something awful, something that would ruin everything—I’m married—I have herpes—I don’t even work at Equinox—and waited, filled with dread, for whatever it was. Naruto hemmed a little bit.
“I sorta,” he said. “I kinda. It wasn’t really true what I said. About Kiba and his dog.”
“What?” Sasuke searched his face, baffled.
“Kiba wasn’t gonna miss your session.” Naruto scrunched his eyes closed in embarrassment. “I, like, asked him to. He switched with me because I wanted to train with you. Because I had a crush on you and I didn’t know how to talk to you...” He pressed both hands to his face in shame. “I’m sorry!” Sasuke heard him squeak out. “I know it’s so bad!”
Sasuke just laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was so ridiculous, so sweet and stupid, and so endearing, everything Naruto himself was. “You idiot,” he said, and smiled, and again he had the strange feeling of deja vu but this time he couldn’t dwell on it because then they were kissing, and that was all he wanted to feel, for as long as he could.