a heart is a hilt.

    YOU WANT TO DIE FOR LOVE, YOU ALWAYS HAVE .

              ind.    sel.    pri.     yuki haku from naruto.

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@exmateria​ ( naruto ) said:  “hold my face…” he looks up, the yearning in his eyes lost to despair. “look at me.”

he is a black pearl in the palms of their hands. their body rushes in like sea against shore — holding every last bit of him, overwhelmingly seductive, soothing in its adamance, and destined to leave naught but salt behind.

push, pull. tide in, tide out. they are greedy for each other. they have always been greedy for each other. nothing has changed.

bodies slide and clutch in the moon-tinged dark. if naruto gasps in the wake of their touch, haku’s mouth chases his breath, kissing the sound from his tongue before it evaporates. if they keep his body busy his, then maybe his mind will forget the new puncture wounds in his body, the bruises they both share, the dark cloak thrown over the cheap bedroom chair choked with red clouds bleeding in the dark like a sea warning. 

there had been a time when these “negotiations” were done with words. now the argument is in the body: naruto opens and asks if haku still loves him, and haku floods into him and whispers yes, yes, yes into his deepest recesses. it isn’t a fair game. haku would feel worse if they weren’t winning.

it is only natural for them to crash around him, pull him deeper, wear him down.

haku pulls away but remains near, palms lifting to cup naruto’s face like a lotus, the honey in their eyes cloying to cerulean blue. the gravity between them is primal. the ache buzzing behind their skin is natural. they’re always like this when they get close to each other — they want more than skin. naruto swims deep and haku does not stop him, for in this one thing they are greedy. there is no bottom to the sea in haku’s heart.

“I feel like I’m drowning,” naruto murmurs, pressing his forehead against haku’s delicate collarbone even as his fingers dig into their forearms, pushing away even as he hounds closer. haku’s hands slide to the sides of his neck, pressureless yet anchoring naruto in place all the same. in many ways, they were made to hold him — for good or for ill. “Every time you touch me, I die on dry land. What’re you doing to me? What are you doing to me?”

Of all the ghosts and wraiths Yuki Haku has encountered in his fifteen years of life, none were half as haunting as Uchiha Sasuke. 

Standing at the threshold of Haku’s chamber, Sasuke is a shadow of a shadow haloed by torchlight, halogenic sharingan whirling to life with a glow Haku could only call chemical. Dancing shadows skitter along cold stone walls and metal fastenings, jumping and juddering madly across half of the boy’s face, the pale bloody skin of Haku’s knuckles and knees. His lips curl in a sneer, clinging to his lips like paper.

“You followed me.” Sasuke’s voice is so cold, the question is stripped from its bones. 

Haku is bloody, beaten, broken. He is missing bone marrow courteously harvested by Kabuto. He is several thousand miles from the place he once called home, the man he once called home, and the black, bitter animal inside his head he’d thought he’d tamed long ago bristles to snarling, snapping life. He wants to laugh in Sasuke’s face, if only to keep himself from crying, screaming, tearing himself apart. Haku exhales silently, one, two, three, four, it’s a pendulum. Calm settles over him, cool and solid as his abandoned hunter-nin mask. If there has ever been a time when he needs to be in control of himself it’s here in Otogakure: in the lair of the Snake Sannin.

Amber eyes narrow slightly, the pleasant smile never dropping from his lips. “No. My business is my own. Sasuke-kun. I’m here to learn.”

“Learn.” Sasuke all but snarls, tomoes whirling with vicious disbelief. “You sold yourself to Orochimaru to —”

“Learn, same as you.” Haku interrupts coolly, biting back a hiss as he forces his broken body to its feet, willing his legs not to falter. As far as he’s come on his own two feet, the miles he’s crawled, dragging himself on hands and feet for this, relinquishing himself into the hands of monsters who could help him reach down into Hell and drag Momochi Zabuza out by the roots of his hair. Whatever it took to free him he would do. “I am Kabuto’s new apprentice.” Sasuke twitches, almost a flinch, crossing his arms as a strange expression Haku cannot place clouds his face. “I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, Sasuke-kun.”

“People like you don’t survive more than a month,” Sasuke turns away, inflection burned from his voice, leaving only something cold and hard behind him as he walks away. “You’re going to die here.”

That’s my intention, Haku thinks quietly, watching the shadows of Otogakure stretch out and cling to Sasuke, eager to drag him back into their depths, Living long enough to bargain my soul. 

“Hold on, Zabuza-san,” Haku whispers to the darkness that waits. “I’m coming back for you.”