He wakes up, like a nocturnal urge, a discharge. Sasuke turns his eyes to the clock on his bedside table and looks at the time. It indicates “4:26”. The dark-haired man lets out a small, plaintive sigh, but very quickly his gaze moves to the small frame beside the clock and he observes the photo. This image of him and Naruto, looking at him with his usual endearing smile. A capture of a joyous moment, Sasuke moved and pacified, being teased by Naruto, in an energetic movement. Sasuke found himself glued to the photo, staring at Naruto's distinctive expression, those messy blond strands and those intensely blue pupils with their playful gaze. He felt a tingling in his chest, a longing, a lack. He misses Naruto. He's alone in his gloom. It had been several weeks since they had been separated, following a long A-rank mission Naruto had to carry out, concerning confidential business in the village of Suna. Naruto often sent him letters, but Sasuke wanted more than letters; he wanted to feel him close. He felt ridiculous at having become addicted to Naruto's touch.
Sasuke rests the back of his head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling, trying to relax, breathing deeply, parting his lips as he realizes that his body and senses are starting to become strangely sensitive.
He's wearing Naruto's shirt, with his scent, a masculine scent. Sasuke grips the collar of the tshirt, pinching it with his fingers to bring it close to his nose. The scent drives him crazy. It turns him on. He wants to jerk off. It makes him feel eager, and Sasuke burns hot at the very thought. His cock manifests and he tries to control his chaotic breathing. His mind is a blur and he abandons himself to obscene gestures. Very erotic images of Naruto invade his mind as he gently strokes his inner thighs. He closes his eyes and imagines Naruto licking his body hungrily. Sasuke sweats, moans plaintively, almost painfully, craving his touch, his kisses, his divine pelvic thrusts. It makes him harder, more miserable than ever. He feels like a drug addict who hasn't had his fix. But it's not even that. It's even worse. Naruto is more than a drug, it's like a part of him has been ripped out. As if he couldn't function properly without it.
Sasuke tilts his head back slightly to steady himself better, his messy black hair scattering across his sweaty forehead. He grips his hard cock firmly and begins to jerk off. His ass was wet, as if desperate to be filled.
His scent alone made him excruciatingly hot. Ashamed to be getting hard for so little, he didn't think of himself like that. Naruto was really making him lose his mind. Sasuke moaned shakily, panting even as he accelerated his wrist movements on his pre-sperm-filled cock.
In his imagination, Naruto inserts himself into him, dominates him, lets himself be done completely and gives him his whole body at his disposal. He loves being submitted by Naruto. He adores provoking him. He likes to see him panting on top of him, his nails digging into his back, orgasm rising.
“Ahh...! Ah..! N-Naruto...!”
Sasuke doesn't hold back anymore, moans unabashedly, the room echoes with obsene noises. He jerks off so hard, as if trying to fill his lack with his own touch. Seeking Naruto's scent on the shoulder of the T-shirt. He writhes in pleasure and feels a slow but intense orgasm rise inside him. He cummed on the bottom of the clothing and let his head fall to the side as he tried to regain control of his breathing. Eyes misty and mind relaxed, Sasuke looked at the famous frame on the bedside table and sketched a slight smile.
“Thanks for lending me your shirt, you idiot...”