Smutty Naruto fanfic.
Dec. 9th, 2005 10:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lykomancerTitle: How You Are Crowned
Pairing: NaruNeji, background NejiSasu and vague NejiGaa, understood implied NaruSasu and NaruGaa.
Words: ~4,000
Genre: SMUT; introspection; light drama-ish. Post-series future.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Most of the anime and a bit of the latest manga chapters.
Warnings: None.
Other notes: I swear to god, this was the hardest porn to write ever. It's still a little rough because of that; I'll probably try to polish it up more later when I feel like I can face it again without wanting to smash my head into my keyboard. I hope that it's at least a little hot, though. (And IC. And that it makes sense. And all that other good stuff. OMGWTF, please don't hurt me.)
Still not sure if this is a one-shot or not.
Cross-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
nejinaru and narutoyaoi.
It wasn’t unusual to be in the presence of the Sixth—he was, even more than his five predecessors, in love with Konoha and its people, and was characteristically found skipping out of the tedious paperwork in order to grab a bowl of ramen with friends and rough-house with the village children—but it was a little atypical to be called into his private inner office, where Naruto himself rarely worked (and only then when he’d finally buckled down on a particular project and would not be budged or disturbed from it) and where few were invited into its depths, not even those especially close to him. Neji wasn’t sure what was to be inferred from the invitation or expected from the meeting—even he’d never been asked up to this office before; the only thing he could posit was that it had something to do with working with proud—stiff-necked, it had been said—Hyuuga clan in negotiations to simultaneously eliminate the need for ingrained curse-sealing of branch members while maintaining the exclusivity of the Byakugan, or, failing that, perhaps the possibility of war, though he hoped this was not the case.
The door opened before he even raised his hand to knock, and he blinked in surprise, taking in Naruto’s smiling face and overly bright eyes.
“Neji!” he said in a low, strange voice, and he stepped back and gestured, letting the dark-haired man pad into the office, but despite the broad, toothy smile, Neji didn’t relax. It didn’t take the Byakugan to see that the blond was wound up about something; his shoulders were tight and his moments taut and almost jerky-quick, though this wasn’t his normal exuberance—there was something strange and he had an almost…anticipatory…air about him.
“Hokage,” he acknowledged, bowing his head briefly, but Naruto was on him almost as soon as he’d latched the door shut behind him, leaning over his shoulders—with some effort; Neji would always be taller than him—and cupping one warm, rough-calloused hand under his jaw to lift his face again, and Neji stiffened at the close contact, almost involuntarily striking out in defense; like most shinobi, he didn’t like being approached from behind, and though he could sense it, it still made him nervous, and Naruto’s sudden touch was unexpected and bewildering.
“Stop that. Don’t do that; not now,” came the breathy growl in his ear, and Neji’s silver-white eyes widened and his brows shot up, his skin prickling involuntarily as he froze up; he hadn’t foreseen this possibility at all, and he was jerked between knowing that he should pull away, put some space between them, find out what (if anything besides this) Naruto wanted, and then excuse himself and pretend that this had never occurred; this seemed like inappropriate for these surroundings…but then, Naruto had rarely been overly-concerned with social propriety, especially not in matters of love and sex.
“What are you doing?” He turned against Naruto’s hand, trying to pull out of his grip, but the blond shifted with his movement easily—oh, how familiar they were to one another, that he could sense Neji’s motion before he even made it, react instantaneously to the change of tension in the muscles of his jaw and neck—and he ended up rubbing his face against Naruto’s palm in an unintentional caress, able to sense the salt of his skin against his lips, to feel his own breath tickling the hairs on the back of his hand and wrist, and he was close, too close, and neither one of them was backing away from this intimacy.
Naruto laughed, his breath warm on Neji’s neck, his fingers stroking over pale skin of his cheek until he was able to bring out a faint pink blush and pressing up against him. “Playing,” he answered simply, with his typical aplomb, not sounding hesitant to apologetic in the least, and his teeth found Neji’s ear, worrying along the outside edge with an insistent sharpness, and if he’d been difficult to ignore before, he now pushed that into the realm of the impossible.
With Naruto, every time was like the first time all over again, redolent with memories of the few missions they’d run together and the comradery that had formed in long days of travel and close-quartered nights spent in the same tent, the trust forged in desperation and spilled blood when facing a dangerous opponent, trust that had been richly rewarded time after time and had grown furiously, eagerly; afternoons of sparring matches that had dragged out and then turned overly competitive, almost vicious, as they’d struggled against one another—Naruto laughing and panting for breath both when he managed to slip past Neji’s defense and get a good hit in and when the Hyuuga rebuffed him, batting away his attacks like they were nothing at all…mock-battles that had finally resulted in Neji slammed up against one of the ancient oak trees with Naruto’s mouth attacking his fiercely, stealing away his air of cool well-bred dignity and—finally finishing what had been started at their first fight—collecting his claim on the older shinobi, marking him as his own.
Neji had known that he’d never make a move toward the kyuubi-holder himself, and though he remembered seeing the odd, possessive glint had come into the blond’s eyes when they had sparred, he’d assumed that nothing would ever actually come of it; it was only natural to admire a strong and skilled opponent, and it was foolish to assume that anything more was meant by those glances. He’d wanted for so long—years, now—to thank Naruto for bringing him out of the darkness and showing him the light of life and hope, wanted to show his gratitude in ways that words could not express, that nothing could really express fully; he’d devoted his life to Naruto and his dream silently, with no fanfare, and though the exuberant blond often exasperated him, he never regretted his faith or loyalty. He’d already given so much of himself over to Naruto; if he wanted his body, too, then Neji did not truly mind acquiescing and giving that over as well.
In ancient times, the nobility had kept trained hawks and eagles—trained but never tamed, as it was not possible to tame a bird of prey—both for their value as a hunting tool and as a status symbol. Any man who was able to keep an eagle, two kan of predator equipped with a hooked beak and ripping array of talons capable of taking down a wild wolf, and make it his faithful friend and ally, have it stay willingly at his side and wait for his command, more beloved to the bird than the wind itself, was a man to be respected.
Neji wondered if Naruto was aware that their closeness had earned him the sobriquet of the Eagle of Konoha—or sometimes, more directly and insultingly, dripping contemptuously from the lips of over-confident enemies when they first realized who it was that they faced, the Hokage’s pet fledgling—but he was sure that he did not know of this, or if he did, that he did not know what the title implied. It seemed to him a backhanded compliment, and it was one that he was only willing to take gracefully from a select few—Uchiha Sasuke, who’d smugly purred the nickname into his ear as he’d taken Naruto’s place in bed after the blond had slipped away to get started on his work, sliding nude between the rumpled and cooling sheets one morning near dawn smelling of the mission he’d just returned from, sweat and sweet spring grass, hands fisting in Neji’s long hair as he’d spread out underneath him, smirking up at the older shinobi through femininely long lashes, so confident in his own desirability that it was a challenge, one which Neji could not have refused even if he’d wanted to; and the Kazekage Gaara of the Desert, who’d pronounced the title in flat monotone as his blank salt-sea colored eyes swept over him in mute appraisal when they’d met again before the last biannual chuunin exam, his expression stern and unchanging even when he finally nodded once, though afterward his unblinking gaze and long silences hadn’t seemed so cold, and his distance had seemed more exotic than alien, as enigmatic and heady as the deliriously intoxicating smoke of hallucinogenic desert cacti… Neji’d take the nickname from those who understood deeply and from their own experience Naruto’s hand helping to lift them up out of the darkness of despair and desperation, acknowledging their suffering, validating their lives and talents, and the unceasing gratitude and devotion he’d inspired in them each because of this empathy and recognition; from them it was more than tolerable—it was a compliment to be savored.
“Playing? Here?” The words were a low rumble in his throat, barely more than a vibration against Naruto’s palm; it was tempting for Neji to make the blond work for his pleasure as a payback for calling him up here to his inner sanctum as if on serious business when he merely wanted sex, but Naruto had a way of overdoing things, and if he started getting forceful it was likely to cause his office to be utterly destroyed; some discretion was required for teasing in this situation. He twisted against the blond in order to face him, his eyes narrowing. “I thought you wanted to see me because of something important; I’m beginning to think that you don’t take me seriously anymore.”
Naruto, strangely, hesitated for a single heartbeat, his fingers curling until his nails scraped Neji’s skin, and then he laughed, lips curving back in a cocky grin as his other hand wound up his back to tug the thong binding the heavy mass of his hair free, letting the leather strip drop carelessly away to the floor as he pulled the dark stands over Neji’s shoulder and pulled him down against his hungry mouth, his passionate tongue arguing his own stance over and against his lover’s protests—such was the art of Naruto’s persuasive skills.
“Important,” he affirmed, the breathy murmur almost lost as he surged forward again, and though Neji knew from experience to cock his head to the side to avoid being accidentally cut by one of his sharp canine teeth, the fierceness with which he crushed their mouths together was enough to bruise their lips and flavor their kiss with the faintest metallic taste of blood. Neji groaned low in his throat, his best intentions cracking into pieces and falling in away, willing even to ignore for now the way that the blond seemed to think that his sexual impulses qualified as “something important”, and his hands traced over Naruto’s chest, following from memory the leylines of chakra flow deep inside of his body as they wound in and around the pink spongy sacs of his lungs and indomitable powerful muscle of his heart—this was the essence of Naruto, flesh and blood and power and passion, simple and straight-forward as earth and fire and potentially just as dangerous. “Take you seriously. Take you…”
He panted for breath between the love-bites he dropped generously along the smooth column of Neji’s neck and the crook of his shoulder, slurring praise and dirty words carelessly, roughly tugging at the offensive clothing that served no purpose but was a barrier between them, impatient and eager; Neji managed a wavering smirk before highlighting his whisker-marks with his tongue, painting each one with slow strokes while he worked much more calmly to undress his lover, strong fingers folding back the heavy cloth and stroking his skin almost reverently, taking his time precisely because it drove the blond insane with desire…and that was half the fun of this game that he’d been drawn into.
Neji wasn’t sure if the satisfied purring he heard was the noise of his clothing finally giving way and tearing under reckless fingers or if it was Naruto himself, and while his Hokage’s garment caressed his body as it slid to the floor in whispering folds, his own was stripped ruthlessly away from him; his bare skin was instantaneously assaulted by Naruto’s raking nails, and red welts sprang up in their wake from the dimple of his clavicles to the firm angle of his pelvic bone. His broad hands curved around his hips, capturing his buttocks within the cage of his fingers and kneading the muscle hard enough to almost be painful, pinning him against his strong, study body; Neji shuddered, his breath coming in ragged pants against Naruto’s shoulder as he tried to force himself to focus on something other than the sensual, animal heat and pleasure building up in the friction between them.
Every time with Naruto was like the first time all over again, he thought again; it was an event: the whole world eclipsed by this single individual who was everywhere and everything at once—dazzling and dizzying—allowing no time for thought or reason, nothing but pure sensation. It was like dancing within a flame, feeling the heat lick over his flesh in caresses that flickered over and under his skin, penetrating even into his bones, devouring him body and soul in a death so sweet he sought it out over and over again.
Neji’s elbows hit the edge of the heavy wood desk as Naruto spun him around and shoved him down over it, and he drew in a hissing breath; the pain smeared spiced honey hot and thick up his forearms, and he reflected with a wince how clearly the marks of Naruto’s exuberance were going to show on his pale skin—even if he dressed carefully, the faint pulses of damaged chakra flow would be evident to anyone in the Hyuuga clan who sparred with him and used the Byakugan, and somehow—though Neji had given up trying to figure that one out—Sasuke always seemed to know and he never failed to let Neji know that he knew, his dark eyes snapping with amusement and lips curving up in a double-edged smile…but then, he, too, had been colorfully decorated by their excitable lover many times, and his humor was excusable.
“L—Left hand drawer, Nej… Fuck! Gonna… Gonna f—fuck you ‘til you scream for me…” Naruto gasped out, leaning on his back, nipping and nuzzling the space between his shoulder blades, and Neji shook his head even as he stretched out over the smooth surface in order to reach the drawer and fish around in it for the object in question and then hand it back. Naruto was vocal, he was not, and though he always said that, he’d never once managed to achieve this goal. Neji thought that it gave him something to aspire to.
The oil was musky-pungent, a scent that Neji would always associate with Naruto and sex, and one which never failed to provoke a reaction from him; his erection twitched up against his belly as soon as the stopper was pulled free from the bottle with a moist pop, and his breath hitched as Naruto’s slippery hand slid into the cleft of his ass, rough pads of his fingers swirling over sensitive skin in a tease that neither of them could stand for long before he pushed inward. Neji closed his eyes and curved his back down and hips up encouragingly, wordless invitation, and cupped his hand over Naruto’s unoccupied one, dragging it down over hard nubs of nipples and firm stomach with an almost languid slowness, guiding him down to where he wanted him most, and the blond stiffened as his hand was wrapped tightly around the straining shaft of Neji’s cock and groaned as though helplessly drowning.
Naruto shivered violently and abruptly pulled his fingers free, stroking Neji arrhythmically even before he managed to line himself up properly, and his inability to do even this simple thing well was both pleasing and utterly frustrating to the older shinobi, and he squirmed against the desk with a growl, attempting to correct Naruto’s fumblings by forcing his own pace on the motions of the blond’s hand and failing, but then—finally, finally!—Naruto rocked his hips forward and it was enough to make Neji forget about everything else for a long moment, his mind going as blank and white as the sun on pristine banks of snow, as blank and white as his own eyes. He arched back, long hair dripping over his bare shoulders to fall like a sable silk curtain around his face and pool on the wood, and his nail dug at the varnish until his fingers ached from the pressure; Naruto growled delightedly and fell gradually into a steady pace after a few experimental thrusts.
Neji gritted his teeth against the uncomfortable burn of the penetration, concentrating instead on the slickness of the hand on his cock, but Naruto curled tighter against him, biting and sucking at the back of his neck and making that strange breathless grunting noise that reminded Neji once more that there was a fox caged deep inside his lover’s belly, and the shift in position both eased some of the stretching and allowed the blond to hit that spot deep within him that made his nerve blaze and narrowed his world down to nothing more than hedonistic pleasure.
There was a calm center to be found at last within the fiery whirlwind of Naruto’s passion, and Neji embraced it wholeheartedly. This was his moment of revelation, and every time was like the very first time, a brand new epiphany all over again; this was atman through ananda—pure consciousness through the vehicle of absolute bliss. Here he found at last the joy without which his entire universe would fall apart and collapse into chaos, and he was within the fire and the fire was within him, and this was sweeter, far sweeter, than flying free could ever be. If this was the leash and jesses that kept him at Naruto’s side, they were freely embraced and more precious to him than even the depths of the wild skies.
Naruto’s teeth closed a little too hard on the nape of his neck as he bucked furiously, and Neji moaned, too lost in his savoring of the delicious friction and pressure to even realize the sound had slipped free, too far gone to be aware of anything except the rising tide of exquisite sensation. Absently he brushed back the dark ribbons of hair that had been sweat-stuck to his reddened forehead and then threaded his fingers through the damp strands, pinning his hair up and leaning his face against his forearm, sucking in his lower lip and rolling it between his teeth as he unthinkingly thrust into Naruto’s almost painful grip. His brow furrowed and he tensed—he tried to fight it back, make this last longer—but then his mouth dropped open and contorted in a silent snarl, and he came in a series of hard jolting jerks that forced Naruto over the edge as well with a startled yelp.
Naruto slumped heavily against Neji for a moment as they both struggled to catch their breath, and then slowly peeled himself away with one last affectionate nuzzle, almost stumbling as he backpedaled and reached for his clothes. “Th—thank you.”
Neji managed to lift his head and glance over his shoulder, wondering how his knees could still be supporting him when they felt like they were are steady as crumbling autumn leaves and blinking as though seeing the world for the first time, and then turned carefully, keeping his weight against the reassuringly unmoving support of the desk. The tacky, drying mingling of sweat and oil and semen painting him irritated him now, but it was something he’d have to endure until he managed to clean it off later, and, he remembered with a faint twist of his lips, his clothes were torn, too; he hoped that no one on the way home would notice that, though he had his doubts. The problem of living in a village full of ninjas was that there were few secrets; they noticed everything.
He combed his hair back as he watched Naruto dress; there was something off about the blond now, some nervous tension still in his shoulders and the movement of his hands, and Neji sighed before going for his own clothes and pulling them on.
I thought you wanted to see me because of something important… he’d said, and he’d noted the way that Naruto’d hesitated for a second, and now his mind went back to that, turning it over and examining it. Something was in the air… Something that Naruto’d felt a need to prelude with sex, which no doubt meant that it was personal and probably troubling.
“Well?” he asked finally when it was clear that Naruto was still debating with himself on how to phrase whatever was bothering him; he focused on tying his sash around his waist and didn’t look up—more than anything, he’d learned to hate seeing the blond look vulnerable, and he felt a sudden spike of irrational fear that if he met those bright blue eyes now… “As much as I know you enjoy doing that to me, I don’t think that’s all of why you called me up here.”
“I met with your uncle this morning…” Naruto didn’t bother even asking what he meant; it’d have been an insult to his intelligence and they both knew it, and while Neji avoided eye contact, he could feel Naruto watching his reactions closely. Neji could tell, too, that he was thinking about his words, and it was so unusual for the blond that it made his skin prickle nervously. “…about the future of the Hyuuga clan since Hiashi’s getting old and the leadership of the main house is....” He broke off suddenly, and Neji raised a brow in silent inquiry. It was obvious to everyone that Hiashi had always favored Hanabi, but Hinata was the eldest and therefore the heir to the house of Hyuuga, and she had proved herself many times over to the rest of the family despite her father’s disapproval. He waited patiently. “You… You’re the Hyuuga prodigy, probably the strongest member of your clan now that Hiashi’s gettin’ on in age, you know, but…”
“But I’m not part of the main house,” Neji finished flatly for him. He’d come to terms with this fact years ago, but in light of Hiashi passing on leadership to his successor, it still chafed at old scars. If his only his father had been born first, then he’d… But no, that wasn’t even worth wasting time thinking about; it was futile and nonproductive. He’d accepted his own path and he was satisfied with it.
“Noooo…” Naruto ran his hand through his hair and threw himself in his chair, and finally Neji looked up at him, eyes narrowing as he tried to deduce something other than the obvious from his posture. “But you should have been, and everyone knows that, and it’d be best move to make you the head of the family, branch member or not. And… Er… Hinata’s still…so…” Naruto flushed brilliant red and finally spit out the words that had been caught in his throat, the ones that were the point that he didn't like and hadn’t wanted to say, and ones he hadn’t wanted Neji to hear.
“I finalized the arrangements for your marriage to Hinata this morning.”
Pairing: NaruNeji, background NejiSasu and vague NejiGaa, understood implied NaruSasu and NaruGaa.
Words: ~4,000
Genre: SMUT; introspection; light drama-ish. Post-series future.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Most of the anime and a bit of the latest manga chapters.
Warnings: None.
Other notes: I swear to god, this was the hardest porn to write ever. It's still a little rough because of that; I'll probably try to polish it up more later when I feel like I can face it again without wanting to smash my head into my keyboard. I hope that it's at least a little hot, though. (And IC. And that it makes sense. And all that other good stuff. OMGWTF, please don't hurt me.)
Still not sure if this is a one-shot or not.
Cross-posted to
nejinaru and narutoyaoi.It wasn’t unusual to be in the presence of the Sixth—he was, even more than his five predecessors, in love with Konoha and its people, and was characteristically found skipping out of the tedious paperwork in order to grab a bowl of ramen with friends and rough-house with the village children—but it was a little atypical to be called into his private inner office, where Naruto himself rarely worked (and only then when he’d finally buckled down on a particular project and would not be budged or disturbed from it) and where few were invited into its depths, not even those especially close to him. Neji wasn’t sure what was to be inferred from the invitation or expected from the meeting—even he’d never been asked up to this office before; the only thing he could posit was that it had something to do with working with proud—stiff-necked, it had been said—Hyuuga clan in negotiations to simultaneously eliminate the need for ingrained curse-sealing of branch members while maintaining the exclusivity of the Byakugan, or, failing that, perhaps the possibility of war, though he hoped this was not the case.
The door opened before he even raised his hand to knock, and he blinked in surprise, taking in Naruto’s smiling face and overly bright eyes.
“Neji!” he said in a low, strange voice, and he stepped back and gestured, letting the dark-haired man pad into the office, but despite the broad, toothy smile, Neji didn’t relax. It didn’t take the Byakugan to see that the blond was wound up about something; his shoulders were tight and his moments taut and almost jerky-quick, though this wasn’t his normal exuberance—there was something strange and he had an almost…anticipatory…air about him.
“Hokage,” he acknowledged, bowing his head briefly, but Naruto was on him almost as soon as he’d latched the door shut behind him, leaning over his shoulders—with some effort; Neji would always be taller than him—and cupping one warm, rough-calloused hand under his jaw to lift his face again, and Neji stiffened at the close contact, almost involuntarily striking out in defense; like most shinobi, he didn’t like being approached from behind, and though he could sense it, it still made him nervous, and Naruto’s sudden touch was unexpected and bewildering.
“Stop that. Don’t do that; not now,” came the breathy growl in his ear, and Neji’s silver-white eyes widened and his brows shot up, his skin prickling involuntarily as he froze up; he hadn’t foreseen this possibility at all, and he was jerked between knowing that he should pull away, put some space between them, find out what (if anything besides this) Naruto wanted, and then excuse himself and pretend that this had never occurred; this seemed like inappropriate for these surroundings…but then, Naruto had rarely been overly-concerned with social propriety, especially not in matters of love and sex.
“What are you doing?” He turned against Naruto’s hand, trying to pull out of his grip, but the blond shifted with his movement easily—oh, how familiar they were to one another, that he could sense Neji’s motion before he even made it, react instantaneously to the change of tension in the muscles of his jaw and neck—and he ended up rubbing his face against Naruto’s palm in an unintentional caress, able to sense the salt of his skin against his lips, to feel his own breath tickling the hairs on the back of his hand and wrist, and he was close, too close, and neither one of them was backing away from this intimacy.
Naruto laughed, his breath warm on Neji’s neck, his fingers stroking over pale skin of his cheek until he was able to bring out a faint pink blush and pressing up against him. “Playing,” he answered simply, with his typical aplomb, not sounding hesitant to apologetic in the least, and his teeth found Neji’s ear, worrying along the outside edge with an insistent sharpness, and if he’d been difficult to ignore before, he now pushed that into the realm of the impossible.
With Naruto, every time was like the first time all over again, redolent with memories of the few missions they’d run together and the comradery that had formed in long days of travel and close-quartered nights spent in the same tent, the trust forged in desperation and spilled blood when facing a dangerous opponent, trust that had been richly rewarded time after time and had grown furiously, eagerly; afternoons of sparring matches that had dragged out and then turned overly competitive, almost vicious, as they’d struggled against one another—Naruto laughing and panting for breath both when he managed to slip past Neji’s defense and get a good hit in and when the Hyuuga rebuffed him, batting away his attacks like they were nothing at all…mock-battles that had finally resulted in Neji slammed up against one of the ancient oak trees with Naruto’s mouth attacking his fiercely, stealing away his air of cool well-bred dignity and—finally finishing what had been started at their first fight—collecting his claim on the older shinobi, marking him as his own.
Neji had known that he’d never make a move toward the kyuubi-holder himself, and though he remembered seeing the odd, possessive glint had come into the blond’s eyes when they had sparred, he’d assumed that nothing would ever actually come of it; it was only natural to admire a strong and skilled opponent, and it was foolish to assume that anything more was meant by those glances. He’d wanted for so long—years, now—to thank Naruto for bringing him out of the darkness and showing him the light of life and hope, wanted to show his gratitude in ways that words could not express, that nothing could really express fully; he’d devoted his life to Naruto and his dream silently, with no fanfare, and though the exuberant blond often exasperated him, he never regretted his faith or loyalty. He’d already given so much of himself over to Naruto; if he wanted his body, too, then Neji did not truly mind acquiescing and giving that over as well.
In ancient times, the nobility had kept trained hawks and eagles—trained but never tamed, as it was not possible to tame a bird of prey—both for their value as a hunting tool and as a status symbol. Any man who was able to keep an eagle, two kan of predator equipped with a hooked beak and ripping array of talons capable of taking down a wild wolf, and make it his faithful friend and ally, have it stay willingly at his side and wait for his command, more beloved to the bird than the wind itself, was a man to be respected.
Neji wondered if Naruto was aware that their closeness had earned him the sobriquet of the Eagle of Konoha—or sometimes, more directly and insultingly, dripping contemptuously from the lips of over-confident enemies when they first realized who it was that they faced, the Hokage’s pet fledgling—but he was sure that he did not know of this, or if he did, that he did not know what the title implied. It seemed to him a backhanded compliment, and it was one that he was only willing to take gracefully from a select few—Uchiha Sasuke, who’d smugly purred the nickname into his ear as he’d taken Naruto’s place in bed after the blond had slipped away to get started on his work, sliding nude between the rumpled and cooling sheets one morning near dawn smelling of the mission he’d just returned from, sweat and sweet spring grass, hands fisting in Neji’s long hair as he’d spread out underneath him, smirking up at the older shinobi through femininely long lashes, so confident in his own desirability that it was a challenge, one which Neji could not have refused even if he’d wanted to; and the Kazekage Gaara of the Desert, who’d pronounced the title in flat monotone as his blank salt-sea colored eyes swept over him in mute appraisal when they’d met again before the last biannual chuunin exam, his expression stern and unchanging even when he finally nodded once, though afterward his unblinking gaze and long silences hadn’t seemed so cold, and his distance had seemed more exotic than alien, as enigmatic and heady as the deliriously intoxicating smoke of hallucinogenic desert cacti… Neji’d take the nickname from those who understood deeply and from their own experience Naruto’s hand helping to lift them up out of the darkness of despair and desperation, acknowledging their suffering, validating their lives and talents, and the unceasing gratitude and devotion he’d inspired in them each because of this empathy and recognition; from them it was more than tolerable—it was a compliment to be savored.
“Playing? Here?” The words were a low rumble in his throat, barely more than a vibration against Naruto’s palm; it was tempting for Neji to make the blond work for his pleasure as a payback for calling him up here to his inner sanctum as if on serious business when he merely wanted sex, but Naruto had a way of overdoing things, and if he started getting forceful it was likely to cause his office to be utterly destroyed; some discretion was required for teasing in this situation. He twisted against the blond in order to face him, his eyes narrowing. “I thought you wanted to see me because of something important; I’m beginning to think that you don’t take me seriously anymore.”
Naruto, strangely, hesitated for a single heartbeat, his fingers curling until his nails scraped Neji’s skin, and then he laughed, lips curving back in a cocky grin as his other hand wound up his back to tug the thong binding the heavy mass of his hair free, letting the leather strip drop carelessly away to the floor as he pulled the dark stands over Neji’s shoulder and pulled him down against his hungry mouth, his passionate tongue arguing his own stance over and against his lover’s protests—such was the art of Naruto’s persuasive skills.
“Important,” he affirmed, the breathy murmur almost lost as he surged forward again, and though Neji knew from experience to cock his head to the side to avoid being accidentally cut by one of his sharp canine teeth, the fierceness with which he crushed their mouths together was enough to bruise their lips and flavor their kiss with the faintest metallic taste of blood. Neji groaned low in his throat, his best intentions cracking into pieces and falling in away, willing even to ignore for now the way that the blond seemed to think that his sexual impulses qualified as “something important”, and his hands traced over Naruto’s chest, following from memory the leylines of chakra flow deep inside of his body as they wound in and around the pink spongy sacs of his lungs and indomitable powerful muscle of his heart—this was the essence of Naruto, flesh and blood and power and passion, simple and straight-forward as earth and fire and potentially just as dangerous. “Take you seriously. Take you…”
He panted for breath between the love-bites he dropped generously along the smooth column of Neji’s neck and the crook of his shoulder, slurring praise and dirty words carelessly, roughly tugging at the offensive clothing that served no purpose but was a barrier between them, impatient and eager; Neji managed a wavering smirk before highlighting his whisker-marks with his tongue, painting each one with slow strokes while he worked much more calmly to undress his lover, strong fingers folding back the heavy cloth and stroking his skin almost reverently, taking his time precisely because it drove the blond insane with desire…and that was half the fun of this game that he’d been drawn into.
Neji wasn’t sure if the satisfied purring he heard was the noise of his clothing finally giving way and tearing under reckless fingers or if it was Naruto himself, and while his Hokage’s garment caressed his body as it slid to the floor in whispering folds, his own was stripped ruthlessly away from him; his bare skin was instantaneously assaulted by Naruto’s raking nails, and red welts sprang up in their wake from the dimple of his clavicles to the firm angle of his pelvic bone. His broad hands curved around his hips, capturing his buttocks within the cage of his fingers and kneading the muscle hard enough to almost be painful, pinning him against his strong, study body; Neji shuddered, his breath coming in ragged pants against Naruto’s shoulder as he tried to force himself to focus on something other than the sensual, animal heat and pleasure building up in the friction between them.
Every time with Naruto was like the first time all over again, he thought again; it was an event: the whole world eclipsed by this single individual who was everywhere and everything at once—dazzling and dizzying—allowing no time for thought or reason, nothing but pure sensation. It was like dancing within a flame, feeling the heat lick over his flesh in caresses that flickered over and under his skin, penetrating even into his bones, devouring him body and soul in a death so sweet he sought it out over and over again.
Neji’s elbows hit the edge of the heavy wood desk as Naruto spun him around and shoved him down over it, and he drew in a hissing breath; the pain smeared spiced honey hot and thick up his forearms, and he reflected with a wince how clearly the marks of Naruto’s exuberance were going to show on his pale skin—even if he dressed carefully, the faint pulses of damaged chakra flow would be evident to anyone in the Hyuuga clan who sparred with him and used the Byakugan, and somehow—though Neji had given up trying to figure that one out—Sasuke always seemed to know and he never failed to let Neji know that he knew, his dark eyes snapping with amusement and lips curving up in a double-edged smile…but then, he, too, had been colorfully decorated by their excitable lover many times, and his humor was excusable.
“L—Left hand drawer, Nej… Fuck! Gonna… Gonna f—fuck you ‘til you scream for me…” Naruto gasped out, leaning on his back, nipping and nuzzling the space between his shoulder blades, and Neji shook his head even as he stretched out over the smooth surface in order to reach the drawer and fish around in it for the object in question and then hand it back. Naruto was vocal, he was not, and though he always said that, he’d never once managed to achieve this goal. Neji thought that it gave him something to aspire to.
The oil was musky-pungent, a scent that Neji would always associate with Naruto and sex, and one which never failed to provoke a reaction from him; his erection twitched up against his belly as soon as the stopper was pulled free from the bottle with a moist pop, and his breath hitched as Naruto’s slippery hand slid into the cleft of his ass, rough pads of his fingers swirling over sensitive skin in a tease that neither of them could stand for long before he pushed inward. Neji closed his eyes and curved his back down and hips up encouragingly, wordless invitation, and cupped his hand over Naruto’s unoccupied one, dragging it down over hard nubs of nipples and firm stomach with an almost languid slowness, guiding him down to where he wanted him most, and the blond stiffened as his hand was wrapped tightly around the straining shaft of Neji’s cock and groaned as though helplessly drowning.
Naruto shivered violently and abruptly pulled his fingers free, stroking Neji arrhythmically even before he managed to line himself up properly, and his inability to do even this simple thing well was both pleasing and utterly frustrating to the older shinobi, and he squirmed against the desk with a growl, attempting to correct Naruto’s fumblings by forcing his own pace on the motions of the blond’s hand and failing, but then—finally, finally!—Naruto rocked his hips forward and it was enough to make Neji forget about everything else for a long moment, his mind going as blank and white as the sun on pristine banks of snow, as blank and white as his own eyes. He arched back, long hair dripping over his bare shoulders to fall like a sable silk curtain around his face and pool on the wood, and his nail dug at the varnish until his fingers ached from the pressure; Naruto growled delightedly and fell gradually into a steady pace after a few experimental thrusts.
Neji gritted his teeth against the uncomfortable burn of the penetration, concentrating instead on the slickness of the hand on his cock, but Naruto curled tighter against him, biting and sucking at the back of his neck and making that strange breathless grunting noise that reminded Neji once more that there was a fox caged deep inside his lover’s belly, and the shift in position both eased some of the stretching and allowed the blond to hit that spot deep within him that made his nerve blaze and narrowed his world down to nothing more than hedonistic pleasure.
There was a calm center to be found at last within the fiery whirlwind of Naruto’s passion, and Neji embraced it wholeheartedly. This was his moment of revelation, and every time was like the very first time, a brand new epiphany all over again; this was atman through ananda—pure consciousness through the vehicle of absolute bliss. Here he found at last the joy without which his entire universe would fall apart and collapse into chaos, and he was within the fire and the fire was within him, and this was sweeter, far sweeter, than flying free could ever be. If this was the leash and jesses that kept him at Naruto’s side, they were freely embraced and more precious to him than even the depths of the wild skies.
Naruto’s teeth closed a little too hard on the nape of his neck as he bucked furiously, and Neji moaned, too lost in his savoring of the delicious friction and pressure to even realize the sound had slipped free, too far gone to be aware of anything except the rising tide of exquisite sensation. Absently he brushed back the dark ribbons of hair that had been sweat-stuck to his reddened forehead and then threaded his fingers through the damp strands, pinning his hair up and leaning his face against his forearm, sucking in his lower lip and rolling it between his teeth as he unthinkingly thrust into Naruto’s almost painful grip. His brow furrowed and he tensed—he tried to fight it back, make this last longer—but then his mouth dropped open and contorted in a silent snarl, and he came in a series of hard jolting jerks that forced Naruto over the edge as well with a startled yelp.
Naruto slumped heavily against Neji for a moment as they both struggled to catch their breath, and then slowly peeled himself away with one last affectionate nuzzle, almost stumbling as he backpedaled and reached for his clothes. “Th—thank you.”
Neji managed to lift his head and glance over his shoulder, wondering how his knees could still be supporting him when they felt like they were are steady as crumbling autumn leaves and blinking as though seeing the world for the first time, and then turned carefully, keeping his weight against the reassuringly unmoving support of the desk. The tacky, drying mingling of sweat and oil and semen painting him irritated him now, but it was something he’d have to endure until he managed to clean it off later, and, he remembered with a faint twist of his lips, his clothes were torn, too; he hoped that no one on the way home would notice that, though he had his doubts. The problem of living in a village full of ninjas was that there were few secrets; they noticed everything.
He combed his hair back as he watched Naruto dress; there was something off about the blond now, some nervous tension still in his shoulders and the movement of his hands, and Neji sighed before going for his own clothes and pulling them on.
I thought you wanted to see me because of something important… he’d said, and he’d noted the way that Naruto’d hesitated for a second, and now his mind went back to that, turning it over and examining it. Something was in the air… Something that Naruto’d felt a need to prelude with sex, which no doubt meant that it was personal and probably troubling.
“Well?” he asked finally when it was clear that Naruto was still debating with himself on how to phrase whatever was bothering him; he focused on tying his sash around his waist and didn’t look up—more than anything, he’d learned to hate seeing the blond look vulnerable, and he felt a sudden spike of irrational fear that if he met those bright blue eyes now… “As much as I know you enjoy doing that to me, I don’t think that’s all of why you called me up here.”
“I met with your uncle this morning…” Naruto didn’t bother even asking what he meant; it’d have been an insult to his intelligence and they both knew it, and while Neji avoided eye contact, he could feel Naruto watching his reactions closely. Neji could tell, too, that he was thinking about his words, and it was so unusual for the blond that it made his skin prickle nervously. “…about the future of the Hyuuga clan since Hiashi’s getting old and the leadership of the main house is....” He broke off suddenly, and Neji raised a brow in silent inquiry. It was obvious to everyone that Hiashi had always favored Hanabi, but Hinata was the eldest and therefore the heir to the house of Hyuuga, and she had proved herself many times over to the rest of the family despite her father’s disapproval. He waited patiently. “You… You’re the Hyuuga prodigy, probably the strongest member of your clan now that Hiashi’s gettin’ on in age, you know, but…”
“But I’m not part of the main house,” Neji finished flatly for him. He’d come to terms with this fact years ago, but in light of Hiashi passing on leadership to his successor, it still chafed at old scars. If his only his father had been born first, then he’d… But no, that wasn’t even worth wasting time thinking about; it was futile and nonproductive. He’d accepted his own path and he was satisfied with it.
“Noooo…” Naruto ran his hand through his hair and threw himself in his chair, and finally Neji looked up at him, eyes narrowing as he tried to deduce something other than the obvious from his posture. “But you should have been, and everyone knows that, and it’d be best move to make you the head of the family, branch member or not. And… Er… Hinata’s still…so…” Naruto flushed brilliant red and finally spit out the words that had been caught in his throat, the ones that were the point that he didn't like and hadn’t wanted to say, and ones he hadn’t wanted Neji to hear.
“I finalized the arrangements for your marriage to Hinata this morning.”
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Date: 2005-12-09 11:09 pm (UTC)This was REALLY good. =D
Yay! First comment!
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Date: 2005-12-10 01:07 am (UTC)It makes too much sense for Hinata (and probably to a lesser degree Hanabi when she gets older) to be used as a marriage pawn in clan politics to either a) seal alliances and/or b) further the bloodline...and if you go with the latter, then there's a logic in marrying her to her own cousin who shows the distinctive family traits so strongly. Really, it's a pretty smart move all around that'd manage to blend that part of the branch house back to the main house and unify them uncompromisingly, and take advantage of Neji's nice genius genetics, etc. It just works, and as much as Naruto would be upset about the whole thing, he'd have to face the reality of clan arranged marriages sooner or later for both of them, and that this was the easiest and most common-sensical conclusion. (He still probably gave Hiashi a helluva hard time about the whole thing, though.)
Sasuke, Sasuke... I had problems keeping him out of this fic. He really wanted to turn this into a threesome liek whoa, the little slut.
Thank you! That makes me feel a little bit better about this. *blows kisses*
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Date: 2006-02-04 01:07 am (UTC)the ending was a surprise though, i'm expecting a simple pwp then slam--and eveything suddenly has so much more meaning. I feel a little bad for neji though, to get a bomb dropped like that right after hot sex.
i love how you wrote sasuke! so very very ic, to be smug about everything--sexy bastard.
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Date: 2006-02-04 09:18 pm (UTC)The ending kind of surprised me, too, but I had a sense that there was more to this than sex, even though I prefer my PWPs.
I <3 sexy bastard!Sasuke! *purrs* One of these days, I'll get on some pseudo-prelude fics to this that are SasuNeji and NaruSasuNeji, because that's just hot.
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Date: 2006-02-05 05:38 pm (UTC)omg please do!
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Date: 2006-03-14 10:30 pm (UTC)*blink*blink* ouch. I think the sex first probably would make it worse for Neji... *huggles Neji* *huggles Naruto*
..... *huggles Sasuke and Gaara on principle*
This was one very very hot fic. Are you planning to continue on in this um, universe, I guess? I'm very intrigued with the whole Neji being Naruto's Eagle. And Sasuke randomly sliding into bed. And just the whole thing. It's really yummy.
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Date: 2006-03-14 11:06 pm (UTC)Yay, miscommunication.
Yeah, er... Things get written as they get written, y'know? I like this little future AU and I'm still figuring out some of the details and relationships in it, and I do plan on writing more of it, but...I don't know when or how. It really just depends on my mood and inspiration.
...although there will definately be some totally hot NejiSasu action written sometime, 'cause, I mean, YES! incredibly pretty mansex!
(Gawd, I'm such a perv. ^__^)
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Date: 2006-03-15 09:16 am (UTC)But NejiSasu, you say? mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm can't wait. Sounds quite tastey. :3
by the by, is it ok if i friend you? (and when does that icon take place in the show? it's hilarious!)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-15 10:38 am (UTC)You can friend me if you'd like, but keep in mind that
That icon takes place in somewhere around ep. 150-165 or so, I forget exactly where. In the massive filler arc of doom, sometime just before I lost my patience with it and decided to stop watching until they went back to canon. The plots of the filler episodes are SO. INCREDIBLY. PAINFULLY. stupid, but some of the character interactions are fun.