Pretty Little Hands

A/N: Recently, this ship has been sinking for me. So what better way to save the ship than to write a fanfiction about it? Perfect opportunity for me to just pour all my feels out. So I’ll just—UNNGGHH.

Chapter 1 - Pretty Littly Hands

Haruno Sakura paced back and forth in her small apartment. The old wood floors creaked with every step she took. Her eyes darted nervously to and fro from the clock hanging on her wall back to the large wooden door in front of her. He was to be coming any minute now. She was sure of it.

And right then, a knock sounded at the door. Sakura jumped. He was here. She exhaled a shaky breath in short, raspy puffs of air. She took one step and then another. Her fingers reached up to brush against the small, metal doorknob. She grasped it and turned it. She pulled. The door creaked open an inch. Silver fluffs of hair peeked out from the small crack. She gasped, “Ka—”

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And then she jerked awake. Cold drops of perspiration streamed down the sides of her face. It was that dream again. Night after night, the same dream played in her mind over and over. Every night, Haruno Sakura dreamt of the unmentionable. She dreamt of the forbidden. She dreamt of her sensei.

And these dreams were not innocent ones. They were full of lewd, salacious images. From the way her sensei would look at her, touch her, charm her, and pleasure her, nothing was innocent. Nothing was chaste. Every breath, every graze, every moan was filled with lust. The dreams thrilled her as much as they terrified her.

Just yesterday, when he placed his hand on her shoulder as a gesture of encouragement, Sakura nearly fainted from the amount of incitement the one touch gave her. That one squeeze was all it took for a deep, crimson red to flush over her face. A shiver ran down her spine, something churned in her stomach, and she almost doubled over in ecstasy. If that one touch could make her feel all of this, she wondered what he could do if he were to ever take her into bed...

But Sakura wasn’t stupid. She knew this was all wrong. A teacher and a student? Never. The relationship was destined to be impossible. It was wrong. It was taboo. Yet it was everything she ached for.

The dreams, however, always left her terribly afraid. What if one day, he noticed? What if one day, someone else noticed? Surely someone would be able to recognize her change in character fairly soon. Sakura wasn’t the type of girl to blush so easily, so why would she suddenly be blushing when her teacher only placed a hand on her shoulder?

And there was also Sasuke, another huge problem, another huge mystery. Sakura thought she still loved him. She had no idea why, when, or how these incredulous thoughts of her sensei came to be. Every time she glanced at Sasuke, she still felt the familiar fluttering of her heart, but when it came to Kakashi-sensei, everything was different. The feeling he gave her was not the same; it was incomparable. His effect on her was unparalleled, nothing like she ever experienced before. So ultimately, when it came to whom she liked, or rather, whom she loved more, the answer was obvious. The one her heart pounded stronger for was none other than her mentor, her teacher, her sensei.

Sure she was glad that Sasuke had returned to the village safely and was finally back on the right road. It was just, after so many years, the attraction that she once held for him seemed to dwindle. He was so different from what she remembered. He was so far away, too far away. Somehow, Sakura knew that she would never be able to reach out to him again. The little care that he once harbored for her years ago was now gone. Although he did manage to mend his friendship with Naruto, Sasuke never did fix anything between him and Sakura. Was it because he found her unworthy? Was she too weak? Was she too dull? Was she too ugly?

But one person did always remain the same. The one that had stayed by her side all these years and accompanied her was the one and only Kakashi-sensei. When Sasuke left the village, Kakashi and Naruto were there by her side. When Naruto left to train with Jiraya, the only one left at her side was Kakashi. Now both Naruto and Sasuke were back, and the relationship between Kakashi and Sakura still remained as strong as ever. Kakashi was never one to become too attached, so their relationship was never really that intimate. Whenever she needed him, he would be there. He would offer her the occasional pat on the back, a few comforting words, and, sometimes, a free bowl of ramen at Ichiraku. That was it. That was all that their relationship ever came to be. It was enough for her then, but now, she was left feeling unsatisfied. She wanted more.

Sakura sighed despairingly as she glanced up at her spinning ceiling fan. The alarm clock to her right showed that it was only an hour after midnight. She still had a long way until morning. She could still sleep, and so Sakura cleared her mind of any further thoughts, closed her eyes, and waited for the dark hands of slumber to enclose upon her once again.

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“Kakashi-sensei!” Sakura gasped. The silver haired Copy nin offered a small eye-smile through the open crack before gently pushing the door open wider and letting himself into the girl’s apartment. Entering the small living room, he raised up a hand, tilting it slightly to the left, and muttered, “Yo.”

Sakura frowned at his curt greeting before closing the front door. “Why are you at my apartment so late...again?” she asked, a bit frustrated. “I was planning on turning in, you know.”

Kakashi’s right brow quirked up in amusement. “Is that so? Well then, you certainly answered that door very quickly. You...you weren’t standing in front of the door, waiting for me, now were you?”

Sakura spluttered, “How ridiculous! Why would I wait for someone like you? I told you last time, didn’t I? Stop coming over here like you own the place!”

Ignoring her small outburst, Kakashi chuckled, “Ah, that’s right. I forgot how you were always so quick on your feet.” He mumbled thoughtfully to himself as he settled onto Sakura’s white couch. “Ahh, leather. Feels nice,” he sighed. “Maybe I should buy myself a leather couch like yours. We can match.” He looked up, his knowing gaze meeting Sakura’s.

Immediately, Sakura felt her cheeks grow warm, and she shifted her gaze to the floor. Match? What the hell did he mean, and for God’s sake, how in the world did he do that? Making her so flustered with just a simple glance...curse him.

Kakashi patted the spot next to him. “Sit.” Sakura looked at him questioningly but complied nevertheless. She tugged down her white medic skirt as she slowly lowered herself down onto the couch. She could feel his eyes on her hands as she smoothed out the back of her cotton skirt. She rolled her eyes. What a pervert. Really, was he ever going to get rid of that disgusting habit? He was so—

“Sakura, did you cut your hands again? What did I tell you?” Kakashi murmured softly as he reached to touch her. Sakura froze. Her hand twitched, and her face burned. This man—she gulped—was dangerous.

He took her hand into his and held it gently, his eyes carefully observing the red and raw flesh. He blew gently on the wound, and the puff of air tickled her.

Pulling her hand away from his grasp, Sakura quickly countered, “I-it wasn’t like I was purposely trying to hurt myself. Sasuke and I were sparring, and he went...just a bit over the top. Kinda like how he always does, but besides, I’m a medic. I know how to take care of myself and my hands. I don’t need you to tell me.” Immediately, she ran her right hand over the left one, a soft green glow appeared, and she slowly mended the broken tissue on her fingers.  Sakura really never bothered to heal such minor cuts before, and she had no idea why she should now. But it wouldn’t hurt either, right? So why not?

Watching the soft glow of Sakura’s healing chakra, Kakashi spoke again, “Sakura, with such pretty little hands, it’d be such a shame to have a scar on one.”

Sakura’s eyes widened in surprise. She swallowed hard and turned toward the wall. Something warm was creeping up from her neck to her cheeks. She would be damned if she let him see her blush now. There was no need to feed his ego even more.

“S-shutup, sensei.”

Kakashi answered with a soft chuckle, “What’s there to be so embarrassed about?”

Sakura frowned. “Nothing.” And by that she meant, everything. Even Kakashi could tell.

He laughed once more. She never failed to amuse him.

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Keeping his gaze steady, eyes set straight ahead, and expression calm, he edged his hand a few inches and then a few inches more, each inch bringing him closer to her. He stopped once his fingers brushed up against hers. He wasn’t sure if she felt it, if she noticed, or if she minded. He gave her a few minutes.

She did nothing, and so he continued. His pinkie stretched over her hand tentatively and brushed softly over the back. She still did not move. He went further, hooking his little finger under hers and then turning her palm to face his. He entwined his fingers with hers and nearly crushed her hand in his tight hold. She faced him with an expression of utter shock and disbelief. He could not hold back the small smirk as her cheeks reddened to match the color of her hair.

Eyes wide and mouth gaping, Sakura could not say even a word. She didn’t tell him to continue, but she didn’t tell him to stop either. Without another moment of hesitation, he took her silence as a sign of consent and continued. He closed his eyes, buried his face in the small crook of her neck, and nibbled gently on her smooth, milky skin. His tongue flicked and licked every now and then. Although hesitant at first, Sakura soon relaxed and found that she actually quite enjoyed her sensei’s gentle strokes. She closed her eyes and arched her neck back, granting him even more access to her skin. As he continued to taste her, ravish her, his hand had released hers and, ever so slowly, made its way down to the hem of her shirt. It teasingly brushed up against the fabric, causing the shirt to rise up a mere centimeters and revealing to him only a sliver of her delectable skin.

Carefully, he edged his hand under the fabric and ran it over her toned abdomen and higher, coming to an abrupt halt at the touch of fabric again. Reaching to her back, he unclipped the burdensome undergarment and allowed it to fall. Then he cupped her.

His rough fingers felt heavenly against the silkyness of her skin.

“Sensei!” she breathed sharply, her voice light and raspy.

With his eyes still closed and hands still roaming, he lifted his head from the crook of her neck and murmured, near purred, “Sakura, now don’t you think it’s time you dropped that honorific? After all, I’m no longer your sensei anymore, right?” The last few words had been whispered so dangerously close to her ear with a voice so deep, so rough, and so enticing; it gave her shivers. He then lowered back to her neck to ravish her with even more sweet kisses.

“Right...” She had to pause before she could continue, “you’re not. You’re more than that...” she whispered back breathlessly, her eyes soft and glassy. She felt his smile on her neck, but something wasn’t right, and she stopped returning the affectionate touches. She blinked, and suddenly her eyes had lost their dreamy haze. She paused, furrowing her brows a bit. Kakashi, noting her hesitation, lifted his head from her neck once more and peered at her carefully. She whispered to him, softly shaking her head, “No, actually, to be honest, I don’t really know what you are to me anymore...”

“What do you mean, Sakura?” Kakashi mumbled, taken by surprise and feeling quite worried. His chest was tightening, and he suddenly wasn’t quite sure what to do anymore. Here he was with his hand under his ex-student’s shirt, and she was telling him that she was still confused? Well, to be fair, he wasn’t really sure about anything either, but, heck, there had to be something if he was sticking his hand under her shirt. And she wasn’t stopping him either.

“I mean, I do care for you, and I like you. A lot actually. But Kakashi, you knew me since I was twelve. You were my teacher for the past six years, and now...I-I just can’t help but think this is so wrong. I mean, others will—”

“Like I give a damn what others think.” And then his lips crashed onto hers, silencing her. He just had to quiet her down, make sure she would not utter another single word because Kakashi sure as hell did not want to stop, and there was no way he was going to let any unneeded worry stop this.

Sweet, sweet moments later, he pulled away for a breath of air. He glanced down at her, her face still cupped in his hands.

“Fuck, you’re perfect, Sakura,” he bit out before emitting a low, throaty groan that Sakura might have missed if she weren’t so close to him.

The sound of his voice did funny things to her. Sakura tried to fight it, but soon enough, she was, once again, melting into his soft, warm lips, his gentle embrace, and his small tempting caresses. She finally caved in. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Kakashi,” she moaned desperately against his lips, her breath heaving.

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“Kakashi...”

The alarm clock was blaring at full blast and probably had been for the past two minutes. Sakura opened her eyes groggily. Head still fuzzy, she reached over and slammed down on the ringing clock simply of habit. Sitting up, she still wasn’t quite sure what she was doing or why she was getting up while it was still so dark outside. The only thing on her mind was something of a fragment of a very, very peculiar dream: something that was warm, that made her heart flutter, something that was so familiar yet so strange to her. What, or rather, who was it again?

Suddenly she remembered. Not anything about the dream, but why her alarm clock was being so annoying and why she needed to get her butt off her bed, fast. It was six in the morning, she had her hospital shift in twenty minutes, and if she didn’t hurry now, Tsunade was going to have have it.

Sakura was in no mood for a morning lecture from her shishou, so she jumped up from her bed and raced through her morning routine. She had a whole new day in front of her that she needed to prepare for. There was no time for her to reminisce about a weird little dream she had last night.