Much Too Early; Much Too Late.

Sasuke looked in through the window, in a state of shock at the scene unfolding before him.

Naruto was kissing Sakura's stomach, his back rippling through the black shirt as he leaned in closer and pushed his hands upwards. Sakura's eyes were wide open, her mouth slightly open, panting hard, her chest heaving. As soon as he had moved his hands upwards, Sakura grabbed his head and let out a moan that even Sasuke could hear through the window.

He felt angry all of a sudden, wanting to slam the window out of the way and attack both of them; to slash Naruto to pieces and to cut Sakura deeply;  to watch the life drain from both of their eyes simultaneously.

The anger boiled in him, but he watched silently, a quiet predator in the night. He wondered if this was a ritual for them, but he sensed an innocence in the act, as though this was impulsive and both were new to one another, their movements needy but shaky; learning the curves and sounds and smells of each other, different than during the day.

The heat of the night was getting to Sasuke, and he leaned back suddenly, sneering as he looked down. He sensed no one other than Sakura and Naruto in the room, and he knew that he would not get caught. Even if he did... well, he was angry enough that he could have killed every last man, woman, and child in Konoha.

He was angry enough that he would have done it with a smile on his face.

Burn them all alive, he thought, his sneer turning into a bitter smile. Kill them all and watch them all burn, hearing their screams and I will laugh. But I will not kill these two that way; I will not kill those two that way. I will kill those two slowly, and together, to make sure that they know that they are dying together.