Adoration

Contrary to popular belief, Sasuke was interested in many women.

Though perhaps not the deep, emotional sort of interest that they all sought from him. But he did find quite a number of them—ninja and civilian alike—attractive. Sexy, even. Ino and Temari, for example, belonged to the latter. While Sakura and Tenten, belonged to the former.

He wasn't blind. And he definitely wasn't gay. But really, even gay men had no trouble admitting when a woman was beautiful or blindingly sexy, so he'd never really understood that argument in the first place. If anything, they were more vocal about their—

That wasn't the point, damnit!

He was a man. A straight, hot-blooded Uchiha male with urges, so he had no qualms about admitting that he found certain women attractive... in his mind anyway. He wasn't a crass pervert like some silver-haired ninjas he knew.

So, he had no trouble, absolutely none, mentally acknowledging just how generous the gods had been when creating the indigo-haired beauty sleeping soundly in his bed. He probably should've been thinking more logical thoughts like why she was there in the first place or just how often did this happen while he was away on missions that she was so damn comfortable, but every single iota of reason he thought he had disappeared as soon as he saw her.

The gods had really rolled their sleeves up during her conception. Alabaster skin, silken hair, and a dash of whatever poison they used for gorgeous people. Wait, no, they must've poured the whole damn bottle in.

Her looks were that devastating.

Sasuke could give reason after reason for why he'd never taken the time to sit back and properly scrutinize her for all that she was; even after Itachi had announced their engagement to the clan. From her seemingly unshakable love for Naruto (gone now, with Itachi in the picture), to their shared talent of somehow never winding up in each other's company, despite being from the same generation. It was only when Itachi took an interest in her that he actually started seeing her more often, but even then, they were hardly ever alone.

For the most part, however, it was due to the fact that his eyes always zeroed in on her ratty attire.

What self-respecting heiress wore something so obviously... cheap?

It wasn't as if the Hyuga were skint. Even her little sister with her upbeat attitude and tendency to get herself dirty from climbing trees wore silken kimonos. Which, even from afar, Sasuke could tell cost a month's worth of wages for the average Chuunin. Frankly, he was surprised the Hyuga let their heiress walk around in some oversized jacket in the first place. The thing was so old that the cloth on her elbows had begun to thread—he would know. He'd stared intensely at it after all, while silently judging his big brother for going for such a frumpy wife when he could've had anybody. He figured it was her personality that snagged him in the end.

But that clearly wasn't the case. Not entirely anyway.

That sly bastard, he thought.

He didn't blame her clansmen for worrying about her anymore. Hell, he didn't blame Itachi for always insisting she wear an overcoat when going outside.

Because...

Ninja gods above, Sasuke thought, gulping audibly. No wonder Itachi's interested.

Her body was ridiculous.

And she was in his bed of all places. Snuggled against air and donning a nightgown so thin that he could see every curve. From the swell of her breasts to the dip of her waist. He even caught a hint of red peeking out from where the expensive satin had hiked up, giving him a tantalizing view of her thighs.

The nightgown certainly wasn't meant to be inviting. He knew that simply because of how plain it was. No lace. No see through spots. No downward dips. It was full coverage... or it should've been. Because it was doing an astoundingly poor job of providing any sort of modesty in the face of Hinata's incredible... assets.

Sasuke swallowed a groan. His pants tightened to an uncomfortable degree.

Would Itachi kill him if he touched her? Probably. But maybe he'd forgive him if it was just a strand of her hair? He was his little brother after all. His foolish, foolish little brother. And who could blame him? Everything about her looked so smooth. He just wanted to feel those long tresses glide between his fingertips for a mome—

"You're back."

Sasuke jumped at the familiar voice. He whirled around to find his older brother leaning against his doorway, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in question. Itachi looked much too ordinary for the situation, dressed in nondescript pants and a cotton shirt.

Still... Sasuke had never seen him look so unamused.

He swallowed again, except this time, in fear. His hard on immediately wilted at the sight of him. Sasuke looked down at the ground, willing his face to return to the cool mask all Uchiha perfected in their youth. It took a moment, but somehow, he got his features to obey.

"What were you doing?" Itachi went on.

And then his face twisted all over again.

Sasuke couldn't help but feel like the small child he once was, cornered by his brother and repentant for something he didn't want to admit to. The last time he'd felt like this, he was six years old and he'd just broken his beloved brother's favorite mug in his attempt to reach it from the tall cupboard he usually kept it in.

But this was different. Way different. He had to choose—either own up to the fact that he was about to touch his brother's fiancé or lie through his teeth to a man that had risen to ANBU Captain at the tender age of thirteen.

The answer was obvious.

"I was going to wake her," Sasuke lied, looking his brother right in the eye, as if daring him to refute his words. Forget that he was internally flinching from this sorry excuse of a stare down. This was life or death! He fucking chose life.

If it was pity for how ragged he looked from his mission or just plain luck that Itachi was in no mood to call him out on his raging hormones, Sasuke didn't know, but he let out a slow, controlled breath of relief when Itachi let the matter drop.

"Hinata came over at mother's insistence," Itachi explained. "She wanted to have Hinata try on her old kimonos, seeing as how she can't force you to wear them anymore." He paused just long enough to take in Sasuke's glare. "They prepared dinner afterwards. By the time we finished, it was already too late to send her home."

Please, Sasuke thought, they're ninjas! It's never too late to send anybody home, especially since Hinata would be accompanied by—

"Why is she in my room though?" Sasuke quickly asked when he realized that Itachi was expecting an answer.

"Father insisted we sleep in separate rooms. He wants no children conceived before marriage. It would bring dishonor to both clans."

Itachi was insane if he wasn't sleeping with her yet. And if he claimed he wasn't, then he was a dirty liar.

"Wait. What are you still doing awake?"

"I heard you come in."

Because of course he did. And of course he just had to get up and ruin—

"So, where am I supposed to sleep?" Sasuke asked, turning to sneak one last glance at her under the ruse of looking forlornly at his bed.

The action didn't go unnoticed, if Itachi's narrowing eyes were anything to go by.

"Tsukuyomi," came the merciless response, "if you keep that up."

"... Right."