Love is an idealistic notion, something that can't exist in the real world they live in. Sakura believes in love, just as she believes in princes and fairytales, happily ever afters and dreams coming true. Sasuke used to believe in these things, in damsels in distress and wishing stars, in brotherly love, but he's been proven wrong, again and again. Naruto wishes he could believe in those things, but he never learned how.

Sasuke and Naruto live in a world of ANBU missions, where new names are added to the monument every day, where nothing turns out quite the way it's supposed to, where there's no such thing as love. They're jealous of Sakura, of the way she can go on dreaming and pretending, and so they protect her, keep her away from the real world. They let her believe in love, because Sasuke no longer can, and Naruto never learned how.

Sasuke lies his head against Naruto's chest, listening to the beating of his heart, and he tilts his head so he can kiss Naruto's chin. Naruto touches Sasuke face, runs his fingers along the cheekbones and stubbly chin, over the chapped lips. They're nineteen, and they're scared to death of dying. The future's standing before them, big and huge and so possible, but death is standing right behind them, just waiting, hot, dry hands around their necks.

Sasuke wonders what it'd be like, if his parents were still alive. He wonders if he'd be on Sakura's and Naruto's team, if he'd be in the ANBU, if he'd come home more than half-dead every week. He wonders if he'd be living in this dingy apartment, where cockroaches crawl across the counters and the ceiling drips on the bed. He wonders if his parents would be happy, if his brother would be at home. More than anything, he wonders if what his parents would think about this, about him sleeping with a man he doesn't love, because if he loves him, then the man he loves and doesn't love, he needs and doesn't need, he hates and doesn't hate, would die.

Naruto just wishes he could wonder.

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