The Clementine Tree

Title: Ethereal Lover
Author: balafeo
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Naruto (Sasuke)
Rating: R
Warnings: shounen-ai, solo, character death
Disclaimer: We do not own Naruto.
Summary: Naruto thinks about his lost lover and what has come of his being gone.

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Ethereal Lover – Naruto (Sasuke)

It wasn’t really the same, nothing can compare to the real thing. But at least this eased the pain slightly, made the dull ache in his chest somewhat more bearable.

Memories flooded his senses, brief but satisfying touches, murmurs of endearment hushed in a crowd, eyes of desire looking only at him. So pungent, so perfect, so reminiscent of the person they represent.

Memories were all he had now.

Being alone during the day no longer bothered him. He had enough people around to distract his troubled mind. To allow him to forget for those brief hours. No, to allow them to think he’d forgotten. In truth he couldn’t forget; for them to even think he could, proved they didn’t know him half as well as they thought.

He would have noticed though… he always does… always did.

Naruto rolled onto to his side, not wanting to let his mind stray down that path again. He had promised the others, promised himself, promised him… If only for him he would keep that promise.

He stretched out his hand and stroked the space in the bed beside him. It had long since lost the curves and grooves that once moulded perfectly to the body that used to lie there.

Instead it was cold, lifeless…

Naruto blinked back the tears threatening to flow. Still, he didn’t halt the movements of his hand, and wouldn’t stop until the sheets felt warm to his touch, until they resembled the shape he was so unable to forget.

Sometimes he thought he could hear the front door unlatching, the sandal-less feet padding down the hall towards their bedroom. But the door would never open, and the bed beside him would remain untouched.

Just as he remained untouched.

Naruto didn’t care how much time passed; he would never let another soul touch him.

Closing his eyes, he willed sleep to come, but he was nevertheless fully aware that even if it did, it would offer no relief. In his dreams he could feel the gentle caresses, hear his name whispered softly into his ear... So that when he awoke he was almost guaranteeing that obsidian eyes would be watching him with interest, a smirk playing across the lips he would give anything to taste again.

But it was a lie, an illusion. For when he awoke and finally summoned the courage to open his eyes, the image of the other bored into his mind’s eye would disappear.

But Naruto knew if he closed his eyes long enough, he’d swear he could feel a body next to his own. And he could still feel the other’s breath ghost over his flesh, heating his body. In those moments he would swear, blindly, that he could feel the hands caressing him, touching him. But when he looked down he would realise it wasn’t pale hands clutching at his skin, but his own tanned ones. That the warm breath was his own, heated by his rising passion.

At first he had been disgusted with himself. Sickened that he craved his lover’s contact so much his mind would go to any length to have him believe he was there.

But in the end he couldn’t resist. He didn't have defences strong enough to rid those images from his head. He hadn’t the will power to push his ethereal lover away.

His own hands would become his lover's, the weight of the covers would become the weight of his body, and the darkness of the room would become those eyes. Those eyes that always stared so intently at him.

And he would allow himself to be drawn in to these fantasies, because nothing can beat loneliness.

His hands would roam and caress his flesh. He skin would heat up just as his member would rise. He would tease himself, pinching delicately at his hardening nipples. And he would cry out his name, the name branded to his tongue.

His hands would ghost down his own body, reaching lower, straining along with his breath until just before he touched his heated flesh. And then he would stop.

He would always stop. Opening his eyes he would will his body to stop reacting in the way it did. Stop making him feel his lover’s touch all over again. Not tainting his lover’s caresses by tarnishing them with his own.

But he would never cease completely…

He would always hear a soft chuckle, a single utterance of his lover’s favourite pet name, a single kiss planted on his temple.

He would feel his lover’s hands take over from his own. The movements becoming more fluid, less jerky, less deceitful. He would feel the other lie over him, hard toned muscles melting into hard toned muscle. He would clutch and grasp at the body, more familiar than his own.

Sometimes he would cry, only to find his tears lapped up by a warm tongue, a tongue he would then claim. Those sinful lips pressed hard against his own. A fierce battle always ensuing, he would have it no other way.

And as his passion would rise, so would the intensity of the hand grasping him. He would feel the soft pad of a calloused thumb rub tenderly over the tip of his member. He would moan louder as he felt the slight smirk against his lips.

Soft bangs would rest against his face, brushing his check as the body above moved to the rhythm of his hand.

As Naruto neared his peak he would cry out, always the same words, just as his orgasm raked through his body, “don’t leave me, please don’t leave me!”

In the moments after he would lie there, he would wait for a reply, and as the feeling of contentment and bliss left his body, only then did he dare open his eyes.

Only then did he dare face the truth he knew awaited him.

There was no lover with a superior smirk to meet his gaze. Instead there was only an empty side to the warmed bed. His own hand wet with cum, instead of the lover’s hand he’d led himself to believe was there.

It was then that he would close his eyes again, not even bothering to clean himself off. To him, there was little point.

Sleep would come then; his body was too tired to keep up the charade of keeping the illusion alive. Naruto’s eyes would drift shut, always to a dream-filled sleep. Dreams he’d rather not have because, come morning, he would only wish they’d been real.

But in those last few moments before sleep claimed him, he was able to shed his last tear of the day.

Despite his plea to stay, despite the longing in his heart, the other had gone.

Sasuke had gone… And this time for good.

But still, if that was true, why was it he always felt those sinful lips kiss him once more, so delicately. So delicate, it was as if they weren’t there… almost ethereal.

Then as they drew away he would hear it, the words that he longed to hear, the words that gave him the strength to keep going, even without him.

“I always come back for you, Usuratonkachi.”

Owari.