Tongue-Tied: Part 8 (End)
Summary: It's no secret that, sometimes, Hyuuga Hinata gets a little tongue-tied. Despite her best efforts, it's a bad habit that she simply must live with. As it turns out, Uchiha Sasuke sometimes finds himself at a lost for words himself -- but only around a certain someone.
Tags: Post-War | Naruverse | Fluff | Romance | Awkward Romance | Hinata's POV | Canon Divergent | Misunderstandings | Hurt/Comfort | Mutual Pining
When asked, Inuzuka Kiba says, "Yeah, it's been kinda obvious for a while."
They're sitting on the concrete steps leading up into his family's home. The dogs, with thick winter coats, are ecstatic about the cold. They run in packs along the grounds, barking and chasing one another. Neither of them seem very curious about the two of them — except Akamaru, who (upon Hinata's quiet squeak at Kiba's confession) trots over to nudge his cold nose into her hot face.
"Oi," Kiba grumbles to him, tearing a piece of beef jerky with his sharp canines, "give her some room, buddy."
"Y-You knew?" Hinata whispers, staring at him.
In the corner of his eye, Kiba gives her a look before sighing. "Hinata. Everyone knows."
Everyone seems frightening and big. How come everyone seems to always know things when it comes to her; first, it was her crush on Naruto — and now this. When will there be a time where the whole village doesn't know something delicate and vulnerable about her?
Horrified, Hinata drops her face in her knees. Akamaru whines, so Kiba reaches over to scratch behind his ear.
"It ain't your fault," he tells her. "The bastard's the one with the — the — y'know."
Well, sure. But Hinata knows what that's like. Her crush on Naruto lasted over a decade, and it had its highs, but it also had its lows. Days where she would overthink and realize it would never work between them, that he'd never acknowledge her the way she wants him to — that, no matter how hard she works, he'll never like her. Not like that. And those days were miserable.
If Sasuke ever . . . .
He wouldn't, Hinata tells herself.
. . . Would he?
…
"Well, he never came in here, if that's what you're asking."
Yamanaka Ino is fashioning a rather beautiful bouquet just behind the front desk of her family flower shop. She arranges red roses and white lilies in a lovely display, the reds and whites contrasting perfectly with each other; and once that's done, she lifts her giddy eyes back to Hinata.
"Never tried to get you flowers," she continues, "or buy one of our cards. If you ask me, he was perfectly happy with you never figuring it out."
Hinata is a healthy pink as she examines all the flowers decorating the shop. Really, she could never imagine Sasuke in a place like this, taking time to look at every carnation and tulip.
"You think so?" Hinata muses softly. A small flock of older ladies shuffle from behind. They're too deep in their own conversation, but she still keeps her voice low to not disturb them.
Ino shrugs. She places the bouquet down gently before cutting ribbon and tying it around the stems. She plucks a few misplaced leaves, then smiles as her work. "Well, he never made it obvious before, did he?"
The memory of a shadowy alleyway and the rough texture of a wall blooms in her mind. Suddenly, she remembers his soft mouth and how he felt tall and capable when he held her along the side of the building — and all that seems obvious, doesn't it?
Steam could be rolling from the top of her head. Ino blinks, head tilted with curiosity.
"Now that you mention it, how do you know?" Before Hinata can even think of an excuse, Ino yelps, and the older women spin around on their heals. "Oh — gods — he told you. Sasuke told you, didn't he!? That dog!"
"Ino, please."
The women coo in wonder, and Hinata hides her face in her hands.
…
"He's always been obvious, you know."
If anyone would describe Uchiha Sasuke as "obvious", it would be Haruno Sakura. Most of her life has been spent with him, around him; chasing him, pulling him back. With teammates like him and Sai, Sakura has garnered the skill of noticing the small things, the subtle hints, the cues that most would look over.
They're sitting across one another at a small table outside of a cafe. Their tea is steaming, and Sakura warms her hands along her cup before she takes a sip. She's grace and tranquility, and Hinata takes a moment to watch in awe.
"Well, not in the normal way," Sakura continues. "Nothing is really normal about him. But I noticed things. How he'd stay late in class if you were staying behind. How he'd train in the grounds surrounding the Hyuuga compound. He never wrote love letters or followed you home, but he liked you. He likes you."
Heart strumming along her ribs, Hinata pushes her hands in her lap. Sakura lays it all out in a calm, straight manner. No cutting corners or exaggeration. It makes it impossible for Hinata to ignore — not that she ever could. Not anymore.
"You know?" Sakura takes another sip.
Hinata's nod is shallow, but purposeful. "Yeah."
"I knew you'd realize eventually. He's been getting more obvious."
Sakura smiles, and a bolt of guilt shoots through Hinata. It's a bit cruel to ask the girl who used to have a long-term crush on Sasuke about things like this, isn't it? Even if Sakura has notably moved on, Hinata feels like a villain. Her tea is starting to cool, but she doesn't have the appetite to swallow it down.
"I'm sorry."
Sakura opens her mouth, but she's cut off by a familiar chakra burning through their senses. Before they know it, Naruto is pulling up a chair, grinning down at both of them.
"Chilly, ain't it? I'm surprised you're both sitting out in this cold. So — what are we —" With a tilt of his head, he gets a good look at Hinata's expression, and Naruto's face softens. His grin cools into a smile, and he sits. "Finally figured it out, huh? Or did the bastard get the balls to tell you?"
Sakura kicks her heel into his leg. "Naruto."
Panic pinches into Hinata's chest at his sudden proximity. "No — he . . . uh . . . ."
Once again, Hinata's tongue is completely tied up. She lets her sentence run dry as a breeze blows past them. Somehow, she doesn't feel cold; everything is boiling and bubbling inside her.
Naruto leans back in his chair, considering. Then, with a light laugh, he says, "Well, either way, cat's out of the bag, huh? I think it's good this way — I mean, was he going to keep a secret forever? What good will that do?" Light reflects from his face as he gives her a cunning look. "So I tried to help, get it? Because that idiot doesn't know how to deal with anything — so he only ever acts out when he's jealous. That's why I — well, you get it."
At first, she doesn't. The words just slip in and out of her mind without much depth. Then Sakura's face twists as she slams her tea cup down, and the noise startles Hinata — and that's when she understands. That time in Naruto's apartment, when he was flirting with her, and when he would call her pretty at Ichiraku's —
It was all to get Sasuke jealous.
Sakura nails Naruto hard in the chin. "Idiot! You have absolutely no tact!"
With a severe need to do something with her hands, Hinata grabs her cup and brings the now cool tea to her mouth. She sips without tasting a thing, too stunned to do much of anything except stare at the two. They argue and prattle as she takes sip after sip until everything is gone, and then she excuses herself politely and flashes a reassuring smile Sakura's way before leaving.
The day grows colder. Hinata secures her coat close to her as she walks, relief and confusion a concoction in her gut.
…
Hinata wanders the streets of Konoha with a cluster of emotions caught in her chest. She lingers along the main roads, the bustle of the village deaf to her ears. As the sky turns violet, her feet automatically drift in the direction of home, but she stops herself before she can reach the Hyuuga compound. Neji and Hanabi will grill her. Worse than that, she will have to go to bed with all this new knowledge — all these sudden epiphanies. What girl, after all, has the gall to get a good night's rest with the knowledge that Uchiha Sasuke has had a crush on her since they were children?
So she traverses, and she floats, and the heat of her flush meets with the bitter cold of the air. Hinata considers, many times, that she might take her meandering down a certain road — where at the very end of it lies the half-standing Uchiha district. She'd go to the gate and wait there; he might not even be home, but she'll wait. She'll stay there until the gate opens and Sasuke looks down at her, and he'll realize that she knows everything — almost everything — and then what?
Her heart hiccups. There's a few things she'd like to happen next, though she's slightly ashamed to admit them.
It's all silly day-dreaming anyhow. Soon, it will be night, and she'll have to be home eventually. Neji and Hanabi will wait, and they will have plenty of questions for her, but she'll have to get through them eventually.
Pulling out of her imagination, Hinata looks around to see where she has wandered — and freezes.
To her immediate right, no more than a couple feet away, is the Uchiha gate.
And approaching her from the opposite way, carrying a pack of beer in one hand, is Uchiha Sasuke. He seems stuck in his own thoughts, but when their shadows meet in the middle, he looks up, spots her, and stops.
Oh dear. What to do.
She should have really gone home when she had the chance.
Hinata stares at the eight-pack of beer hanging from Sasuke's fingers, and then follows his arm up to his face. She blushes, swallows, shifts awkwardly. "Um." A million things come to her tongue, fighting for the air needed to be spoken. Can I come in? I talked with a few people about . . . you. Is it true you've liked me all this time? "I . . . u-um . . . ." I think I like you, too. No. I know I do. I'm not just realizing this because I now know that you have feelings for me — even before that — Sasuke, I've liked you even before — "Uh—"
"Want to come in?" His foggy question smokes around his face, filtering around his eyes, making them seem gray and warm for a second.
A startled hiccup croaks in her throat. She looks at the gate, at him, at her plain boots. Their shadows are sinking into the darkening ground. Soon, the stars will be out, watching them with amused twinkles. Hinata nods, and Sasuke opens the gate door wide enough for her with his shoulder. They enter the main building together. It's sparsely decorated, but comfortable. Hinata examines the simple furniture placed about the main room, her heart racing in her throat. Sasuke places the pack on the low coffee table that Hinata sits at. He looms for a moment, and then disappears to the kitchen, giving her a moment to gather her wits.
Her nerves are singing opera. They sizzle in her eardrums as her attention jumps from sofa to sitting cushions to the box TV sitting on a crate. Clearly, Sasuke lacks a passion in interior design, but it only tickles Hinata more. The bunny-ear antenna are bent in peculiar angles, perhaps to get the best service, and there's a tidy collection of VHS tapes stacked to the side. Hinata almost scootches over to see if they're rented or if they're owned, but she's stopped by Sasuke's return. He places a bowl of sliced apple on the table, then sits at the corner perpendicular to her. The closeness of his body awakens her. She shivers, and he presses the top button on his TV remote. The black screen cracks to life, playing a colorful game show that Hanabi likes to watch in the evening.
Sasuke works on opening the box, offering her a can of beer that Hinata takes with both hands timidly. She cracks it open, takes a sip, and lets the muted taste soak into her tongue before she swallows.
What should I do? Sasuke didn't invite her in just to watch TV and drink beer, did he? Surely, he knows that she knows. She stares at his profile, searching. His face changes colors with the screen, and when he drinks, the lines around his brows relax. She can't tell if he knows. Does she have to tell him? But isn't it obvious?
Hinata takes another sip, steeling her nerves.
"Sasuke, um . . . S-Sasuke?" Slowly, his dark eyes slide to her, and Hinata nearly forgets how to breathe. "I . . . so I, w-well, I talked with a few people. Or, I mean, I asked Kurenai first — and she said — she said —" Like a rock is stuffed into her mouth, the words just stop. She can't manage to force them out. Hinata turns more red. Gods, how can he not know? "S-Sorry. I don't know what I'm saying."
The show plays at a soft volume, the laugh track rumbling in the hardwood floor between them. Hinata had long ago lost the ability to look him straight in the eye, but she can feel his gaze still on her.
He's waiting. Does that mean he wants her to keep talking?
Sucking in a breath, Hinata tries again. "Have you, u-um . . . . Has it been like this for a while?"
Sasuke, already done with his first can, grabs another from the back and downs half of it in one gulp. Hinata is sure he understands what she means — because, all of the sudden, he refuses to look at her. His frown is severe and deep, and his cutting gaze slices into the TV screen. If Hinata were who she was a few weeks ago, she'd be terrified by this expression. She'd be sure he was furious, and she'd be bowing her nose to the ground by now, begging for forgiveness.
But now, Hinata can see straight through that angry Uchiha facade.
She's caught him.
Remembering her own drink, Hinata finishes it, then joins him in a second can. She wipes her slightly sweaty hands on the knees of her pants, then turns more to him.
"Sasuke," she says, gently, and almost smiles at how his spine straightens, "you won't tell me?"
Sasuke considers this with a softening scowl. He finishes his second can, starts on a third, and then leans over the corner of the table to kiss her. It's a quick peck that lands more on the corner of her mouth, but it's enough to turn her hot and ecstatic. When he pulls away, it's not by much, and the look in his eyes tells her that was his answer.
A man of few words indeed.
Not that Hinata's complaining.
…
"Is it true," Hinata says, "that you've liked me since the Academy?"
Sasuke's right arm prompts between them, giving him the leverage to lean over and brush his mouth once more against hers. This kiss is a whisper of a touch, so delicate that it makes her toes curl. Hinata's lids droop, but he pulls away before she can shut them completely. His breath is warm on her chin. The light from the TV and the golden glow of a lamp makes his face so colorful and open to her. Suddenly, it's hard to believe that this man before her is said to be the most emotionless creature in all of Konoha.
Not with the expression.
Not with that mouth.
Hinata goes again. "D-Do you, um, still? Like me, I mea—"
Sasuke's mouth prompts hers open, and this kiss is wet and deep. His teeth graze her lip, tugging it until she groans, and then he tilts his head goes in more. He tastes like rice beer and apples. He takes her breath away — and Hinata is left panting when he finally peels away from her.
"Obviously," he mutters.
Well, yes, the answer is rather obvious to her now. Hinata's eyes blink rapidly as she combs her hair behind her ear. Her heart could jump out of her — which would be rather embarrassing, for Sasuke would know how it races for him without the thought of stopping. She wonders if his races, or if it's steady and calm. Based on the slight tension in his face, Hinata is sure he's not as collected as he acts.
"Right," she whispers.
Sasuke adjusts himself closer so that he no longer has to be propped up by his arm. His now free hand rests against the side of her face, and Hinata relaxes into hiss touch.
"Ask more," he tells her.
A bolt of adrenaline shoots through her. "Did you know that Naruto was—"
This time, he bites her lip a little harder; not enough to draw blood, but just enough to surprise her and make her gasp.
"Not about him." He gives her a look. "Dummy."
"Oh — I'm so sorry! I didn't —"
Now he kisses her mouth better, nose nudging into her cheek. "I did."
"H-Huh?"
"I knew what that bastard was doing."
Hinata nods, mostly to herself. It makes sense that he would know. His team is all that Sasuke really has, so he would obviously know if Sakura or Naruto were up to something. And if things keep progressing between the two of them, she might be one of the few to know the true side of Uchiha Sasuke as well. The though makes her pink with joy and pride.
She'd like to know him more. In fact, she'd like him to know more about her — though, in a way, he seems to have a pretty good understanding of her as of now. She thinks of all those times where he was magically around the corner when she needed help. Had that all been on purpose?
Realization makes her voice pliable. "You've been looking out for me for a while, haven't you?"
And this time, Hinata gets a good look at Sasuke's face before he leans in and kisses her. There is a shine of complete adoration captured in his gaze, and she can feel that in how his mouth moves around hers — as if he's worshiping her.
The noise from the TV fades away. All she can hear is her heart and the buzz of her excited nerves and how their breaths crash into one another. His are shallow and fast. Hers are light, lacking the sort of oxygen she needs.
"Um. U-Um . . ." It feels as though her face will always be this bright red. She must look ugly — or silly. And yet, Sasuke is watching her like she's the best thing he's ever seen. "I'm rather dull, you know. I can't hold a conversation very well — a-and I'm not charismatic, um, or witty. I won't be a very exciting gir—girlfriend — um, not that — I mean —"
Suddenly, she's on her back with Sasuke looming on top of her. He takes one moment to confirm she's not scared out of her wits, and then he starts devouring her. Hinata has never been devoured. She didn't even realize being devoured was such a pleasurable experience. Maybe it's because Uchiha Sasuke is the one eating her alive — tasting her, lapping at her, sucking on her pulse and trailing his tongue along her jaw — that she feels so nice, so good.
He reaches a sweet spot close to her shoulder that makes her moan, spine lifting off the floor. Her whispered 'fuck' is what makes him finally pull his greedy mouth away from her.
"Don't say that," he hisses, glaring down at her.
Hinata stares back, startled. "I'm sorry—"
"No." There's that miserable frown again; the one that makes Hinata want to kiss it away. "I mean . . . you're not dull, and you're definitely witty."
"Really?"
Another peck to her mouth, and then Sasuke smiles. He smiles at her. He smiles because of her, and Hinata feels so giddy that it's hard to keep still.
So she doesn't.
Arms wrapping around his head, Hinata brings him back down to her until she feels that smile against her mouth.
…
It's rather late into the evening when Hinata's adjusting herself in the bathroom mirror. Her shirt, still on but a little lopsided, is readjusted, but upon further inspection, she notes that the collar of her sweater isn't long enough to hide a few of the marks Sasuke had left on her neck. Neji and Hanabi will definitely notice. Well, they would have noticed even if she did have a high collar and a little foundation — damn those Hyuuga eyes. Hinata frowns, and Sasuke, leaning against the door frame, meets her eye in the reflection.
"I-I'm not angry," she tells him quickly, fixing a smile on her face. "It's just . . . um . . . nothing."
He comes up from behind her, at least a head taller than her and taking up most of the tiny mirror. He inspects her neck with gentle fingers, and then tilts her head back to look into his face directly.
"I think," he muses, after a while, "I need to get better at finding my words."
Hinata grins, for she thinks that's a rather silly thing to say — or maybe her mind is still there, in the main room, pinned down on the floor with Sasuke atop her, leaning in to answer every one of her questions with his mouth on her neck. How much do you like me, Sasuke? Bite. Do you know how much I like you? Kiss. Do you want to continue what we did in the alleyway? Suck. If she didn't have a family waiting for you, Hinata would have liked to stay there for the rest of the night.
"It's a little hopeless," she says. "I've, um, been trying for more than a decade, and I'm not very good."
He squints. "That's pessimistic."
"Maybe . . . you'll have more luck?" At her half-hearted encouragement, he nips her mouth, and Hinata laughs. Leaving the bathroom, they bundle up in their heavy coats and scarfs, and then they trek out into the dark cold. The stars are, indeed, out. They coo and murmur as they watch the Uchiha and Hyuuga walk down the street together, hand in hand. His palm is warm and takes her fingers in completely. Hinata smiles and squeezes back. "But I . . . like how you talk, Sasuke. Really."
He hums something soft and lulling. He does not have to say a word for Hinata to know how much he cherishes her. It's in the way he matches her pace without being asked and how his hand brings her so close that they share body heat.
