Chapter Text
He could live with liking men. What he couldn’t live with was liking Naruto, of all people.
He loves him. More than he’s willing to admit. More than he can handle. And that infuriates him.
He didn’t even plan it. Though now that he thinks about it, maybe none of this was ever really planned. With Naruto, nothing is. They were enemies, then allies, they fought, drifted apart, fought again. And in the end... it was over. Sasuke lost. Of all the times he beat Naruto, that last one—at the Valley of the End—was the heaviest. As if mocking every victory that came before.
They saved the world. Naruto saved him from himself. They became heroes, even if most would rather forget Sasuke had any part in that story. And of course, Naruto was always there, ready to throw himself into the fire for him.
Losing their arms, ironically, had been the start of a bond deeper than anything else.
Sasuke knows he’s been in love with Naruto far longer than he dares to admit. Maybe Naruto is an idiot who never thinks things through, but even with the delay, he fell harder than Sasuke did.
He doesn’t remember exactly how it happened. He prefers it that way. It was probably after one of those missions that kept him away for months. Drunk, kissing, ending up tangled on Naruto’s couch. At some point, they started sharing heats together. And then, Naruto couldn’t take it anymore and confessed. Sasuke—surprisingly for both of them—confessed too. That night was freeing. The sheets were soaked. He won’t admit that the next morning he could barely sit.
A year later, he mated with him. And now there's a ring on his finger, along with a matching necklace—just like Naruto’s.
Soon, he’ll officially be the husband of the Seventh Hokage, Naruto Uzumaki.
And now, the First Omega.
Sasuke doesn’t like the title.
It feels like a cage. A label. A fate forced onto his skin.
Sasuke never talked openly about being an omega. Not even with Naruto, except for the practical stuff: pheromones, cycles, heats. But he never named it. He accepted it as part of himself—grudgingly.
He’s living proof that even as an omega, he can be just as—if not more—capable than any alpha. He doesn’t hate being one, but it’s complicated. He’s received degrading comments, sure, but he always ignored them. He doesn’t need anyone’s approval—especially not about something so intimate.
His family taught him to find strength in his own worth. The Uchiha clan always understood that everyone had a role, a purpose, regardless of secondary gender. When he was little, he remembers hearing the elders say that having an omega in the family was a sign of good fortune. He supposed his family was doubly lucky—his mother and himself.
Itachi taught him that his power was undeniable, that the clan’s honor lived within him. His father taught him how to be strong. And his mother… she taught him how to love. To love himself. To accept everything he is, and all that would come with it.
What bothers him most is having to deal, every three months, with a uterus that practically screams to be bred. That begs him to raise his ass, settle down, be knotted, and reproduce. Since the day his nature manifested, he swore he’d never be one of those omegas who fall to the ground at the first scent. He wasn’t going to go into heat and drop everything to fuck.
Orochimaru helped with that. In his own way. Powerful suppressants. Though, as with everything involving him, there was a price.
Naruto had been patient. Even as an alpha, he had the decency not to pounce every time Sasuke smelled fertile. He cared. He waited. He loved him.
Sometimes Sasuke wonders if Naruto had to give up parts of himself to come this far, too.
Now, he watches him standing before the entire village, wearing that giant smile and glowing eyes. The new Hokage. His alpha.
And to think he had to be the one to wake him from that ridiculous dream he refused to leave. Even on the day of his ceremony.
The ceremony wasn’t grand, but it was loud. People cheering, kids climbing poles to get a better view, clan leaders and old friends blending into a mess of applause and formality. And at the center of it all—him.
Sasuke doesn’t usually stay for events like this. But just this once, he lets himself linger. From the back, his cloak hiding half his face, as if he wanted to disappear into the tree line. He toys absentmindedly with the ring on his finger.
He doesn’t need to be at Naruto’s side to know he’s dying from nerves. He can practically imagine every bead of sweat on his forehead. Sasuke smiles, faintly amused. Fingers tapping on his thigh, jaw just slightly tense. Naruto always wanted this—but now he’s wearing it like sacred armor. Like he can’t allow himself to fail.
And for some reason, that tightens Sasuke’s chest.
There’s a brief moment when Naruto’s eyes find him in the crowd. Just a second. But it’s enough. He smiles at him. And Sasuke quickly looks away. Just a faint blush.
Not from embarrassment. But because sometimes, seeing him like that—surrounded by people cheering—reminds him just how far Naruto had to climb to get there. And he wonders how much he lost along the way.
* * *
It's a quiet night. Sasuke and Naruto—or well, his clone—are home. The mission wasn’t dangerous, but Naruto insisted on double-checking everything before letting him leave.
"Are you sure you’ve got everything?" he asks, arms crossed at the doorway while Sasuke finishes adjusting the cloak on his shoulder.
"Yes" Sasuke replies without looking at him, calmly tying his sash. Naruto frowns, amused. “It’s not the first time I go alone. Stop being so clingy.”
"And what, no kiss this time?" Naruto says with a crooked grin.
Sasuke shoots him a dry look. Naturally, Naruto doesn’t flinch. "Idiot" Sasuke mutters. He walks over anyway, like he’s got it timed. Naruto smiles, knowing he’s won. A soft brush of lips, more habit than impulse. Even so, Naruto sighs like it’s the last time.
Sasuke is about to leave when he hears a voice behind him:
"Don’t take too long, okay?"
"Mm?" Sasuke raises an eyebrow.
"I mean… If you’re gonna vanish for weeks, at least come back wanting to make pups."
Sasuke freezes.
He glances back over his shoulder. Naruto is smiling. There’s no mischief on his face, just that dumb, bright light he’s always had. Like he said it at random. Like it meant nothing.
Sasuke frowns, just slightly.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing… Just take care", Naruto murmurs playfully.
"The part about—?"
"You’re hearing things. Bye!" And the clone disappears in a dry puff of smoke, leaving only the wind slipping in through the door.
Sasuke stays there a second longer, unmoving.
Pups.
The word floats in his head like a discordant note. Not because of what it implies. But because Naruto said it like they’d talked about it before. Like it was… normal.
Sasuke lowers his gaze to his belly.
The idea takes a while to settle in. It doesn’t shake him. It doesn’t excite him. It just… stays. Like a splinter under the skin. Small. But impossible to ignore. He grimaces at the thought. As if Naruto had actually meant it.
And that pisses him off a little.
The road stretches out beneath the moonlight. Sasuke isn’t running, or leaping through the trees like usual. He walks. The breeze is warm. Just enough not to mind the weight of his gear or the sound of his own steps.
But the silence doesn’t follow him.
"At least come back wanting to make pups."
The phrase floats around in his head with the same absurd lightness Naruto used when he said it. Like it was just another joke, one of those he throws out right before falling asleep or when he’s unzipping his pants between laughs and gasps. Like it didn’t matter. Like it was nothing.
But Naruto never says nothing.
Not when he looks at him like that.
Sasuke closes his eyes for a moment. He stops on a high branch and lets the wind hit his face. He stays there. Breathing. Frowning.
He’s not mad. Not really.
Just… confused, like his mind hasn’t quite decided how to feel about it.
Naruto isn’t subtle. Never has been. But when he wants something for real, when he truly wants it, he has this habit of saying it through jokes. Just like when he talked about getting married. Like it wasn’t important. Like it wouldn’t hurt if someone laughed at him for wanting something so simple.
And that scares him.
Not Naruto. Himself.
Because if it was a joke, he shouldn’t still be thinking about it.
And if it wasn’t a joke…
Sasuke glances down at his abdomen without meaning to. For a moment, he feels the dumb urge to place a hand over his belly. But he doesn’t.
There’s nothing. He doesn’t feel anything. He’s never really thought about it. They never really talked about it. Neither of them brought it up when they talked about the future—their future. It was always a distant, impossible idea, a word game between moans. A fantasy during rut. And from both of them—it wasn’t just Naruto’s thing.
But Naruto said it. And smiled like they were already expecting it. Like there was no need to talk about it.
Like Sasuke already knew.
“Idiot,” he mutters.
And then, even lower, like a confession:
“Since when have you been thinking about that…?”
The wind doesn’t answer. But he can’t keep walking like nothing happened. Sasuke forces himself to keep moving. Step by step, like walking away would distance him from the echo of that phrase. But it doesn’t.
It doesn’t end there.
Naruto—or rather, his clones—keep joking about it. He figures it’s his subconscious. Because the real Naruto doesn’t say anything about it.
And yet, it shows.
Sasuke sees it.
He frowns every time he catches Naruto staring a little too long at a family in the street. Parents with their kids, babies in arms, children running around. Naruto says nothing, but there’s something in his gaze: a distracted tenderness, a quiet sting of longing that he tries to hide with a goofy smile or some offhand comment. Changing the subject.
It bothers him.
It bothers him that Naruto won’t say things clearly. That he hides his feelings behind jokes and silence. Like he doesn’t have the right to want it. Like asking would be too much. He pretends it’s enough.
He understands the desire. He gets the instinct to build a home, a family that waits for him at the end of the day. Naruto is an alpha—his body demands it. But more than that, his history longs for it.
He’s lived alone. Raised by solitude. The village that now praises him is the same one that once feared and shunned him. No one waited for him. No one held him. And yet, Naruto learned to smile. By making others happy. Now, all those people who once turned their backs on him idolize him. Children run to hug him without fear. They look at him with sparkling eyes—they seek him out. Naruto lifts them up, speaks gently, answers as if each of them were the most important person in the world.
Sasuke has seen it. He has felt it.
And he thinks: he would make a good father.
Despite everything.
Even without having had a present parental figure in his own childhood.
Maybe precisely because of that.
Naruto was meant to be loved from the start. It’s unfair that people only realized it so late. Someone should have held him in their arms, sung him soft things, whispered that he was important, even if he had nothing.
And then everything gets worse.
Because one day, with little warning, Naruto tells him Shikamaru is going to be a dad.
He says it with an easy smile, almost distracted, as if he doesn’t expect the news to have any effect on Sasuke.
“Temari’s pregnant,” he mumbles between ramen sips. “Shikamaru nearly passed out when he found out.”
Sasuke sets his chopsticks on the table. Naruto keeps talking, unaware of the storm brewing in front of him. He chuckles a bit, says the baby will probably be as sleepy as the dad or as loud as the mom. That Gaara’s already preparing a gift. That Ino cried when she heard. Things like that.
“So?”
Naruto blinks at him, broth still on his lips.
“So what?”
“Why are you telling me?”
“I don’t know…” Naruto shrugs. “It’s good news, right? They’re our friends. Y’know.”
Silence. Awkward.
“Correction, they’re your friends,” Sasuke says as he takes a bite of noodles. “Do you want one too?”
Naruto pauses. Blinks. “What?”
“A child. Is that what you want?”
“What are you—?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Sasuke snaps.
Silence. Brief. But enough to make the tension thicken.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Naruto defends himself, scratching his neck. “I just thought it was… interesting.”
Sasuke eyes him sideways. Cold. Calm. Too calm. “You always say it without meaning to. You always don’t know. But then you spend your days looking at families in the street, smiling like you’re about to cry. Why don’t you just say it already?”
“Say what?” Naruto laughs, nervous. Almost offended. “What am I supposed to say?”
“That you want pups.”
Naruto falls silent. As if the words had struck him. As if he didn’t see it coming. As if he had never, in all his impulsive thoughts, expected Sasuke to put it like that. No filters. No escape.
“Sasuke…”
“I’m not mad,” he lies, lowering his voice, barely looking at him. “It just irritates me that you can’t ask for it the way you ask for everything else. Always joking. Always avoiding it. Are you that scared I’ll say no?”
Naruto presses his lips together. Scratches his brow. Looks away. “I just don’t want to pressure you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m demanding something... that big.”
"And you think I don’t notice anyway?" Sasuke asks, voice even softer now, more defensive. "You think I don’t notice when you say it without saying it? When you ask with your eyes? When your clones apparently speak more honestly than you?"
Naruto gulps. He tries. "What about you? Do you want one?"
Silence.
And Sasuke doesn’t answer. He just lowers his gaze. Listening to Naruto sigh and return to his meal.
That night, both of them slept with a scent they knew well. Distress. Coming from both Sasuke and Naruto.
The argument didn’t happen again.
Neither did the conversation.
But something changed after that dinner.
Naruto stopped mentioning babies. Not even by accident, not as a joke, not with silly sighs when they passed by a park together. Each of them focused on their duties: Sasuke, on his missions outside the village; Naruto, on the never-ending reports of the Hokage’s office.
And Sasuke thought.
He thought a lot.
About what it would mean. About what he would give. About what he could lose.
It would be a Uchiha child.
It would be his child.
And for some reason, that hurt.
Sometimes, when he looked at Naruto sleeping in bed —brow relaxed, a hand reaching toward him even in dreams— Sasuke felt something strange fill his chest.
Not quite tenderness. Not quite fear.
A disturbing mix that made him look away.
But he’s sure Naruto would be the only one who could love a Uchiha child. Without fear, without guilt.
Just love and honest warmth.
And that’s exactly what terrifies him.
Because Sasuke doesn’t know if he could do the same.
To take care of a child.
A baby who would depend on him more than he can even imagine. Be their refuge. Be their example. Be their father. Their mother. Their everything.
What if he didn’t love them the way he’s supposed to?
What if he hurt them without meaning to?
What if he wasn’t present?
It took him years to accept that he could love.
And now he was supposed to teach love?
Sasuke has tried to picture it.
Having someone depend on him. Carrying his blood. Bearing his name. A pup who would cry in his arms, seek his warmth, trust him blindly.
It’s not just about bringing them into the world.
It’s about staying.
About holding them.
About building something he never imagined he would.
And it terrifies him.
He doesn’t know if he could love as easily as Naruto does.
His affection has always been scarce, tense, rough around the edges. And he fears that child would feel it. That they would notice. That they would think they’re not enough.
The way he thought about himself for so long.
* * *
The decision wasn't immediate. But one night, while packing his bag for his next mission outside the village, he simply didn’t include the bottle of birth control pills. He didn’t think too much about it. Didn’t mention it. He just did it. Like a silent choice.
A few weeks later, Naruto started to notice. Not because of any big changes, but because of what was missing. Sasuke no longer avoided being near when Naruto came out of the shower with damp hair and that warm soapy scent clinging to his skin. He no longer pulled away when his scent changed, when the chakra between them stirred in soft but heavy waves. On the contrary. Sometimes, it felt like he was seeking it out.
Naruto didn’t say anything. He just started watching him a little longer when he thought Sasuke wouldn’t notice. And one night, after quietly sharing some tea, he slid his hand across the table and took Sasuke’s fingers. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. Sasuke didn’t pull away. He just held on tighter.
And one night, they finally talked about it. The silence was comfortable. The room was dim, lit only by the distant glow of a lantern outside the window. The blond had his nose buried in the crook of Sasuke’s neck, breathing slowly. One arm wrapped around Sasuke’s waist, his hand resting gently over a scar cutting across his abdomen. His fingers moved without thinking, tracing small, almost invisible circles.
Naruto swallowed. Hesitated.
"Lately," he murmured, as if speaking to himself, "the little bottle hasn’t gone down much."
Sasuke didn’t respond right away. His back tensed, just slightly. Not enough to pull away. Just enough for Naruto to notice.
"You haven’t touched it in weeks, have you?"
Silence.
Naruto’s fingers stilled. This time, he waited.
Then Sasuke spoke. Slowly. Barely audible.
"I didn’t forget. I did it on purpose."
Another silence stretched between them—tense but gentle. Like a tightrope no one wanted to let go of.
"I want to," Sasuke finally said. And just that one word seemed to unravel something in Naruto’s chest.
"I don’t know if I’m ready… or if I’ll do it right. But I want it. A baby… with your stupid smile and your eyes."
Naruto let out a quiet laugh, caught in his throat. He turned toward him, resting his forehead against Sasuke’s.
"You’d be a good father," he smiled.
"You don’t know that."
"I do" Naruto said without hesitation, letting out a small chuckle. Sasuke just sighed, more at ease now. "Thank you."
And that was it.
No more words. Just a hand slipping under the blanket to hold Sasuke’s. Just a quiet breath. Just Naruto falling asleep with his lips slightly parted, like he’d been waiting for this longer than he ever admitted.
Sasuke let him. Closed his eyes. Felt the warmth of the other body next to his.
And thought: maybe it’s okay to try.