[ they've never been much for words, and that's exactly why he isn't waiting for a reply. they talk with their bodies- and when sasuke reaches out for him in return, there are no cool fingertips that touch the center of his palm.
it's fabric. soft and warm and alive, gathered at the narrow angles of his knuckles.
naruto's breath seems to fold in on itself. sasuke is still there, only partially transformed, and he is looking back a him. blue eyes meet his gaze and he can feel it. the hum of electricity. the warmth of a fire. a swallow of air.
and it feels like relief. it feels like coming back to konoha. ]
no subject
it's fabric.
soft and warm and alive, gathered at the narrow angles of his knuckles.
naruto's breath seems to fold in on itself. sasuke is still there, only partially transformed, and he is looking back a him. blue eyes meet his gaze and he can feel it. the hum of electricity. the warmth of a fire. a swallow of air.
and it feels like relief.
it feels like coming back to konoha. ]