Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto > The Slave of Sound
The Slave of Sound
Chapter 13
“Naruto…”
The whisper was dark, muted, strangled by regret, and the blonde on the bed did not hear it. Naruto just gave a quivering sniffle, wiped his eyes endearingly with the back of one hand, and gave a final hiccup.
Something in Sasuke warmed, burst like biting into the hot liquid center of a fruit filled pastry; tart and tangy, yet over all incredibly sweet. With the silence of years, he padded over to the bed, slowly shedding his outer kage robes, and loosening the ties on his inner vestments.
He loomed over the bed, and noticed that his blonde had half cried himself to sleep. Tearstained cheeks lay below dew laden lashes, the tip of that pert and perfect nose as red as a cherry. The blonde gave a long sigh, and huddled deeper into the masses of pillows surrounding him.
Sasuke stood there for a few more minutes, watching every muscle in Naruto’s body slowly relax, heard the still slightly erratic breathing smooth into deep and slow inhalations, watched that luscious body sink even deeper into the quilts and pillows.
The vision before him blurred, wavered, then was lost behind crystal lenses. Sasuke blinked, and shook his head, reaching up to wipe the unexpected tears away. He reached out with a trembling hand, then paused immediately when Naruto stirred slightly, and then yawned softly. Slowly drawing his hand back, he stood beside the bed frozen, and waited until the blonde had settled back down into slumber once more.
Wistfully, he sat so very lightly on the edge of his bed. Less than an hour before, he would have stormed over, shaken the blonde rudely awake, and than received smugly whatever it was that he would have demanded from his slave. He wouldn’t have cared why Naruto was crying, why he was so tired in the middle of the day, why he wasn’t doing something, anything, to while away the hours and days and months and years of his thwarted life and denied dreams.
And Naruto would have awakened, likely with just the tiniest gasp, well used to such ill treatment, and looked at him with dead and empty eyes, and served him with all the emotion and vitality of a robot.
Naruto!
That bright and vivid creature, filled with laughter and determination, hopes and dreams, with a heart bigger than all of fire country. He had no doubt that all Sakura had said was true. It was so very appropriate to how Naruto operated. And that last day of the blonde’s freedom, when he’d stood next to the raven and begged him so earnestly to come home, those blue eyes had been filled with such excitement, such devotion despite the exhaustion he’d felt. Filled with so much… love…
And now he was like this; cold and empty, dark and hopeless. All his dreams and fancies as dead as Sasuke’s own forebears. Those glowing eyes darkened forever. That blindingly bright beautiful smile, overcome by chronic sorrow and degradation. That strong and vibrant body melted away into the weak and pillowy muscles of a high priced paramour. All that forceful and cheerful personality lost beneath a crushing load of despair and sorrow. And all that potential love and passion had been turned into the distant and passionless actions of a hardened street prostitute.
And Sasuke had done it all!
And for what? Because Naruto had dared refuse his advances? Because he felt the blonde had belonged to him and was his to use as he saw fit? He had destroyed what had been generous and beautiful and so very, very loving, out of sheer spiteful selfishness. Because of a single, brief moment of misguided clarity in a sea of passion.
Sasuke’s head bowed, his shoulders shook slightly, one hand rising to cover his eyes. And his spirit broke as surely as Naruto’s had.
Uchiha’s didn’t cry; they didn’t look back on their mistakes but strode arrogantly forward to meet their princely destinies.
But Sasuke didn’t care. He wept, and was haunted and tormented by his oh so many mistakes. And he knew he wasn’t at all princely, at all brightly destined. He was all that Hinata had said he was. He was a petty tyrant, and a slaver. And he had single handedly destroyed the only precious thing he’d ever wanted.
Oh, god…
“Master?” The soft and worried voice hit him like a slap in the face.
He hadn’t even realized that Naruto had awakened, had moved to sit on his haunches before him, one hand anxiously stroking the coverlet beside the Uchiha’s knee, because he wasn’t allowed to touch his master with impunity.
He’d forbidden Naruto to touch him of his own will, yet had begun to punish him for not responding positively to him. He’d repeatedly and brutally raped the young man before him, beaten him, threatened him, demeaned him and broken him. And then began to resent him for not still being the Naruto he loved and needed so much, and had begun the cycle of abuse and torment anew.
“D…dobe…” Sasuke sobbed.
But no. That wasn’t right. He’d denied this boy of everything, even his own name.
“Naruto…” And turned and buried his tear stained face into the silken warmth of Naruto’s neck. And was selfishly thankful that his beautiful blonde had the grace and compassion to enfold him in his arms, and comfort his horrible, monstrous self. Sasuke wept as he hadn’t since his family was so brutally slain, and emptied himself out upon the shoulder of someone he’d been as evil to as his brother had to him.
But every ocean has a limit, and every tear can be spent, and silence descended on the opulent bedchambers of the Otokage of Sound, and still Sasuke did not move, nor did Naruto.
In truth, Naruto was confused and bewildered. As the nebulous consort and personal bed slave to this man before him, it was part of his job to succor and comfort Sasuke, but he’d never been required to provide such a service before. But he always obeyed, no matter what. And deep down inside, there was a tiny spark of pain. Sasuke was suffering, and even after everything, knowing that hurt Naruto.
The hands clenched so tightly in the thick fabric of Naruto’s robe loosened, and those pale and strong hands began to lightly caress his back, and tangle in his hair. Sasuke’s face came up to nuzzle Naruto’s own. And warm lips caught his in a lingering kiss.
And that tiny spark was lost in the weariness of knowing he was required to serve once more. Naruto could only hope it didn’t end as painfully as it had yesterday. He willed himself to respond, to react, to feign the passion necessary for this act once again.
“Don’t…”
Naruto froze at his master’s whispered word, for just the briefest moment, and like the day before, wondered frantically what he’d done wrong. He braced himself for a repeat of yesterday, heart pounding in dread.
Sasuke saw that tiniest of flinches, the eyes close for a moment in fortification. He watched Naruto prepare himself to be hurt and humiliated once more, and discovered that even the mightiest of oceans had unexpected reserves.
But no, he wasn’t going to cry like a whiney baby anymore, and he wasn’t going to keep tearing asunder something so wonderful. And no, he wasn’t going to ever again demand to be pleasured, then punish his lover for being who and what Sasuke had forced him to be.
Never again.
It was Naruto’s turn to be loved, to be cherished, to be lost in ecstasy. Somehow, he would mend what he had broken, and he would begin… right now.
Chapter 13
“Naruto…”
The whisper was dark, muted, strangled by regret, and the blonde on the bed did not hear it. Naruto just gave a quivering sniffle, wiped his eyes endearingly with the back of one hand, and gave a final hiccup.
Something in Sasuke warmed, burst like biting into the hot liquid center of a fruit filled pastry; tart and tangy, yet over all incredibly sweet. With the silence of years, he padded over to the bed, slowly shedding his outer kage robes, and loosening the ties on his inner vestments.
He loomed over the bed, and noticed that his blonde had half cried himself to sleep. Tearstained cheeks lay below dew laden lashes, the tip of that pert and perfect nose as red as a cherry. The blonde gave a long sigh, and huddled deeper into the masses of pillows surrounding him.
Sasuke stood there for a few more minutes, watching every muscle in Naruto’s body slowly relax, heard the still slightly erratic breathing smooth into deep and slow inhalations, watched that luscious body sink even deeper into the quilts and pillows.
The vision before him blurred, wavered, then was lost behind crystal lenses. Sasuke blinked, and shook his head, reaching up to wipe the unexpected tears away. He reached out with a trembling hand, then paused immediately when Naruto stirred slightly, and then yawned softly. Slowly drawing his hand back, he stood beside the bed frozen, and waited until the blonde had settled back down into slumber once more.
Wistfully, he sat so very lightly on the edge of his bed. Less than an hour before, he would have stormed over, shaken the blonde rudely awake, and than received smugly whatever it was that he would have demanded from his slave. He wouldn’t have cared why Naruto was crying, why he was so tired in the middle of the day, why he wasn’t doing something, anything, to while away the hours and days and months and years of his thwarted life and denied dreams.
And Naruto would have awakened, likely with just the tiniest gasp, well used to such ill treatment, and looked at him with dead and empty eyes, and served him with all the emotion and vitality of a robot.
Naruto!
That bright and vivid creature, filled with laughter and determination, hopes and dreams, with a heart bigger than all of fire country. He had no doubt that all Sakura had said was true. It was so very appropriate to how Naruto operated. And that last day of the blonde’s freedom, when he’d stood next to the raven and begged him so earnestly to come home, those blue eyes had been filled with such excitement, such devotion despite the exhaustion he’d felt. Filled with so much… love…
And now he was like this; cold and empty, dark and hopeless. All his dreams and fancies as dead as Sasuke’s own forebears. Those glowing eyes darkened forever. That blindingly bright beautiful smile, overcome by chronic sorrow and degradation. That strong and vibrant body melted away into the weak and pillowy muscles of a high priced paramour. All that forceful and cheerful personality lost beneath a crushing load of despair and sorrow. And all that potential love and passion had been turned into the distant and passionless actions of a hardened street prostitute.
And Sasuke had done it all!
And for what? Because Naruto had dared refuse his advances? Because he felt the blonde had belonged to him and was his to use as he saw fit? He had destroyed what had been generous and beautiful and so very, very loving, out of sheer spiteful selfishness. Because of a single, brief moment of misguided clarity in a sea of passion.
Sasuke’s head bowed, his shoulders shook slightly, one hand rising to cover his eyes. And his spirit broke as surely as Naruto’s had.
Uchiha’s didn’t cry; they didn’t look back on their mistakes but strode arrogantly forward to meet their princely destinies.
But Sasuke didn’t care. He wept, and was haunted and tormented by his oh so many mistakes. And he knew he wasn’t at all princely, at all brightly destined. He was all that Hinata had said he was. He was a petty tyrant, and a slaver. And he had single handedly destroyed the only precious thing he’d ever wanted.
Oh, god…
“Master?” The soft and worried voice hit him like a slap in the face.
He hadn’t even realized that Naruto had awakened, had moved to sit on his haunches before him, one hand anxiously stroking the coverlet beside the Uchiha’s knee, because he wasn’t allowed to touch his master with impunity.
He’d forbidden Naruto to touch him of his own will, yet had begun to punish him for not responding positively to him. He’d repeatedly and brutally raped the young man before him, beaten him, threatened him, demeaned him and broken him. And then began to resent him for not still being the Naruto he loved and needed so much, and had begun the cycle of abuse and torment anew.
“D…dobe…” Sasuke sobbed.
But no. That wasn’t right. He’d denied this boy of everything, even his own name.
“Naruto…” And turned and buried his tear stained face into the silken warmth of Naruto’s neck. And was selfishly thankful that his beautiful blonde had the grace and compassion to enfold him in his arms, and comfort his horrible, monstrous self. Sasuke wept as he hadn’t since his family was so brutally slain, and emptied himself out upon the shoulder of someone he’d been as evil to as his brother had to him.
But every ocean has a limit, and every tear can be spent, and silence descended on the opulent bedchambers of the Otokage of Sound, and still Sasuke did not move, nor did Naruto.
In truth, Naruto was confused and bewildered. As the nebulous consort and personal bed slave to this man before him, it was part of his job to succor and comfort Sasuke, but he’d never been required to provide such a service before. But he always obeyed, no matter what. And deep down inside, there was a tiny spark of pain. Sasuke was suffering, and even after everything, knowing that hurt Naruto.
The hands clenched so tightly in the thick fabric of Naruto’s robe loosened, and those pale and strong hands began to lightly caress his back, and tangle in his hair. Sasuke’s face came up to nuzzle Naruto’s own. And warm lips caught his in a lingering kiss.
And that tiny spark was lost in the weariness of knowing he was required to serve once more. Naruto could only hope it didn’t end as painfully as it had yesterday. He willed himself to respond, to react, to feign the passion necessary for this act once again.
“Don’t…”
Naruto froze at his master’s whispered word, for just the briefest moment, and like the day before, wondered frantically what he’d done wrong. He braced himself for a repeat of yesterday, heart pounding in dread.
Sasuke saw that tiniest of flinches, the eyes close for a moment in fortification. He watched Naruto prepare himself to be hurt and humiliated once more, and discovered that even the mightiest of oceans had unexpected reserves.
But no, he wasn’t going to cry like a whiney baby anymore, and he wasn’t going to keep tearing asunder something so wonderful. And no, he wasn’t going to ever again demand to be pleasured, then punish his lover for being who and what Sasuke had forced him to be.
Never again.
It was Naruto’s turn to be loved, to be cherished, to be lost in ecstasy. Somehow, he would mend what he had broken, and he would begin… right now.
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