Damning Knight {Prince Sasuke x Knight Naruto}

Chp 1: Last Night

The Kingdom's darkness only fell during the night. Barely any stars shined above the sleeping hemisphere, but there was at least two people up. Every cricket was asleep, every commoner, every guard, every howling wind. Except two people. It was the same two people who would sneak off in the stilling darkness, because it was the only reprieve they could get. 

Prince Sasuke Uchiha. Knight in shining armor Naruto Uzumaki. 

Sasuke doesn't know when he fell for his personal knight, he just knows he fell deep and hard. For a while he would ignore the looks Naruto would cast at him. The stance of the knight at the ripe age of 12. No prince really ever needed to look at their help, he was too prideful for that, and he was a Uchiha. Purest and highest blood. It was an honor to be in the presence of a single Uchiha, let alone a Kingdom. So, Sasuke never really associated himself with his Knight, he was too lower class for someone who had the future crown in between his fingertips. 

Though it all had changed one day. Sasuke had been in his garden, squatting just in front of the steps of his gazebo as there was a stray cat. Naruto was stationed just a few feet away from him, Sasuke ordered him to go further as he felt suffocated, but he remained. He was under strict commands from the King at the time, Fugaku, to watch over him as close as he could on his dying breath. Any further and something could happen to Sasuke, and that couldn't happen as their eldest son just wants to disappear into the night, but not without making sure Sasuke is well taken care of. Hence, Naruto. 

Besides, Naruto wouldn't dream of straying too far from his prince in the first place, no matter how much Sasuke hates it. 

Sasuke's opinion only changed on Naruto when just moments after he fed the little cat, they were under attack. It seemed Sasuke was more than just high value blood; he was worth more than gold could ever dream. Sasuke was prepared to fend them off, given he's been training since the day he was six, but he froze. For the first time in all the years Naruto had been watching over him, he finally watched over Naruto. 

It was like a wave of calm and excitement shot down Sasuke's spine. The sun itself wrapped around Naruto like a thin blanket just to showcase who was really the main attraction. His blond hair had simmered into the sun and left golden specks in its wake; it seemed to somehow reflect on the stone path to the gazebo. There was this gentle sparkle in his deep cobalt blue eyes that almost made them shine like a sharp diamond. The way he was fluid when using his arming sword, it was the true definition of using the blade as an extension of oneself. 

It was a sight Sasuke would never dream of looking away from or even forgetting. He would remember this day until his dying breath, until it was the last memory implanted in his frontal lobe. A prince has duties for his Kingdom, but in this moment, Naruto was the Kingdom. He was the duty.

Sasuke thinks maybe that was the time he fell for Naruto, but then again, he can't remember feeling anything other than amazement and fascination as Naruto worked to protect him. Maybe it was the little things after that day, or the quiet conversations. All Sasuke knows is that every stolen moment revolved around that faithful day and that faithful moment where Sasuke truly looked at Naruto. And he never stopped looking. 

So, it brings them to this very moment and this very stolen night.

Sasuke was in the same spot he was in every night and wearing the same thing he wore every night. His king-sized bed was a lavish dark purple with hints of black, the silk sheets made it most enjoyable during the summer heat. And it was the summer heat blowing into his high window. He had podiums on each corner of his bed that connected in the middle at a diagonal twelve feet above him just so he can have matching purple curtains drape over his bed. 

He was at the foot of the bed, sitting on the edge right smack dab in the middle of it. His hands just a few inches behind him as he leaned on his palms, his left leg delicately crossed over his right thigh and his shoulders squared back. It was as graceful as it was powerful. The slightest tilt of his head made the strands of his black hair frame his face and skim his jawline. He was wearing a dark blue satin pajama set that had cross stitching on the sides to show it was made just for him and only him. Right when he wanted it.