Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

Short Straw	By : Darkprism Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2162 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto - neither characters nor story lines - and I make no money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Part I
- 2-Part II
- 1
- 2
Kiba Inuzuka sat in a squat, square, black swivel chair, chewing on a Twizzler and staring at the door of his apartment. Any second, now, and smoldering holes would appear from the weight of Kiba's gaze, but Kiba had a theory about near-boiling pots and anticipatory doorways. You had to freakin' watch both of them like you didn't need to blink, or the bastards would get the drop on you. And today of all days, Kiba needed the upper hand.

...upper foot... arm... cock... Anything Kiba could manage, really... Today was not the day to lose the way, 'cause Kiba might end up having to pay the ferryman early dues, come what may.

"Dude..." Kiba muttered to himself. "Nice." Kiba snatched up a pen off the top of a cardboard box serving as an end table, and he scribbled the rhyme down on one of the dozens of pads of paper scattered around his place. Kiba had a thing for verse. And rhythm. Meter and rhyme all in particular time... Kiba sucked the next inch of the licorice rope into his mouth, chewing, writing, and keeping an eyeball on the door.

It was only four in the afternoon, but already sunlight was fading toward night. Winter was one bitch with a serious hard-on for darkness, but Kiba could get behind that. Throw down some nightmares with the icicle queen. Maybe make some snowballs to sell to hell. The white stuff was coming down like it was the last chance for a blizzard. Snow stacked and gathered on the ledges of the Victorian house, long ago converted into single-bedroom units, but Kiba was sweating thanks to the fire roaring in the corner fireplace. He'd shed his shirt, opting to show off the outline of his brand-spanking new three-headed dragon chest tattoo, and the only thing he wore was a pair of old, ripped jeans. Kiba was pretty sure His Majesty the Frosty Prince of Bitchdom wouldn't appreciate Kiba's wardrobe choices, but the ass had better like that Kiba remembered to turn up the heat. Kiba's incoming guest got cold toes and a chillier nose in any climate that dipped below seventy-two degrees. Kiba did not understand the skinny fucker. Kiba burned hot, all day, every day, all the time. He didn't have an off-switch, just an emergency shut-down mode.

Chuckling and beat-boxing in the silence of his home, Kiba stopped writing out free-verse and switched to doodling a long-haired boy with eyes like a chilled lilac, and he'd just begun sketching Neji's massive Kiba In Da House boner when the Prince knocked on the fucking door. Kiba flipped over the pad, dropped the pen, and reclined in the chair, hands laced behind his head. His heart jumped into his throat, his vision swam, and Kiba grinned around the taste of adrenaline. Goddamn but he loved that shit.

"It's open!" Kiba bellowed, knowing it'd irritate Neji's sense of propriety that Kiba didn't come graciously to the door and sweepingly welcome Neji into Kiba's abode or some such formal crap. Kiba had met Neji when they'd been sixteen and fifteen, respectively, and Kiba had transferred to the Academy, the private high school for rich kids. Kiba'd known Neji, now, for going on three years, and -- believe -- that was plenty of time for Kiba to get a handle on most of what made Neji tick and twitch.

Neji threw open the door like it'd offended him, and he stepped into Kiba's apartment with his chin so high, he'd drown if it could rain indoors. He shut the door, threw the lock, and spun, undoing the tie of his heavy, expensive, black wool coat like Neji was dancing with his wardrobe, not wearing it. His waist-length dark brown hair was tucked into the coat's collar. Neji had a knitted cap on his oval-shaped head, thick leather gloves over his spindly fingers, dark pants on his long legs, and dress boots on his size eleven feet.

Kiba gave Neji a lingering once-over, and Kiba'd give the Prince this much: Neji and beauty made excellent partners in crime.

"You comin' from church?" Kiba asked.

Neji snorted, taking off his hat with his eyes going everywhere at once like the guy was expecting a ninja army to jump out at any moment. "Hardly," Neji said, all slow, sleepy monotone. Neji's voice was a drug, but Kiba had built up resistance.

"Too bad," Kiba said, turning his chair to match pace with Neji's stroll to the middle of Kiba's living room. "I like me a penitent man."

"I'm sure you would, if you knew the meaning of the word," Neji insulted, mildly. He tugged his gloves off one finger at a time.

"Watch your mouth, Hyuuga," Kiba warned.

"Then mind yours, Inuzuka," Neji shot back with a flash of pretty eyes and an arch of delicate brow. It seemed Kiba had struck the nerve he'd aimed to hit. Kiba grinned, and Neji shrugged out of his coat. Under it he wore a button-down shirt with long sleeves and cufflinks.

Fucking... cufflinks.

"Is there a place to hang this so it won't be confused with your dirty laundry?" Neji asked, tucking his cap and gloves into the coat's pocket.

Kiba made a rude sound. He'd cleaned up for his guest, put all his clothes away and made his house a barren wasteland so as not to distract them from their goals. He'd even taken Akamaru over to his sister's in deference to Neji's allergies, but Neji wasn't one to appreciate Kiba's trouble or to miss an insult opportunity, especially where Kiba was concerned. Kiba had theories on that, and he was pretty damned certain Neji wouldn't like any of them.

"Sure," Kiba answered. "Closet's right there." Kiba nodded at the appropriate door on the far side of the room and, after taking a moment to realize Kiba wasn't going to hang the coat for him, Neji got a move on. Kiba watched the swing of Neji's stride and noted the rigidity of Neji's spine. On any given day, Neji was more uptight than a railway lynchpin, and today it was worse than usual. Coming from Neji's family background, which was, rumor had it, riddled with abuse and the misuse of authority, Kiba understood Neji's position.

But, as with all things Neji, there was a contradiction in the mix. Neji might be made of steel edges and dry ice, but the man could fuck like a snake-shaped demon on speed. If Kiba hadn't seen Neji in action on more than one occasion, Kiba might not believe it himself, despite what most of the Academy student body and even one or two staff members might boast. For that which was good and raw, Neji would crack and thaw.

Kiba's fingers twitched to jot that down, one more line to add to the Ode Writ of Prince Neji, but Neji began to saunter around the room. "It's not a bad space," he commented, hands in his pockets and meandering in a stroll. "Certainly big enough."

"I like spreadin' out," Kiba said. Neji walked past the bank of windows lining one wall. The apartment was spacious, all right. At least, it was for this city and for a kid not quite of Neji's means. Just under fourteen-hundred square feet, Kiba's section of the Victorian house consisted of a massive living room with front, round seating room and a kitchen tucked into the opposite rear corner. A bathroom had been created on the wall across from the kitchen. Between the two was the sliding pocket door entrance to Kiba's bedroom, which had its own fireplace and brick finishing.

"And what is this decorating style? Early sparse?" Neji asked with a smirk.

"Ain't big on furniture. Ya know that. You been here before."

"Just once," Neji said. He circled and paused in front of the kitchen doorway. "Where's your radio equipment?"

"Bedroom."

"Ah." Neji nodded and continued his walk. "You doing the short-wave casts, again?"

Kiba saw where Neji was going with this line of questioning, and headed Neji off at the insult pass. He grinned. "Gonna half to since WKDS fired my ass."

If Kiba hadn't been looking for Neji's tell, he might have missed it, but Neji flinched, just so... a tic of the shoulders and a jump of the eyebrows. Yeah, Prince Iceberg hadn't been expecting Kiba to announce his getting canned with pride. Showed what he knew.

"I heard something to that affect," Neji said.

"Eh, I was gettin' too hot for 'em. Too risqué even for a late-night DJ."

"The content was certainly varied," Neji commented.

"Fuck yeah it was." Kiba laughed. "An' don't worry, I know who I get t'thank for that part 'a my education. If you hadn't invited me to your little kink fest class, wouldn't know shit from fuck, my friend."

"Let the record show that I only invited you because Kankuro shared our secret with you," Neji said dryly.

"I got ways with persuasion," Kiba said easily, and it was absolutely true. Kankuro had been bursting at the seams about something one day near the end of their senior year at Academy. They'd been in one of the theatre's crows' nests, fixing up the gel lights for a student performance, and Kiba had gently applied pressure until Kankuro had cracked. It hadn't taken much. Kankuro had started coughing up this crazy-ass story about how Naruto Uzumaki had figured out that Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto's priss-bitch boyfriend, got off on pain. Like, literally got off on it. Came squirting and screaming from getting slapped around. Never in his wildest dreams had Kiba thought Sasuke could ever be appealing, but when he'd heard that and imagined Sasuke all tied up and bleeding and begging for it, he'd gotten so hard so fast he practically heard his dick go, SPROING!

Anyway, Naruto had confided in Kiba's friend, Kankuro, because Kankuro dug really weird porn and wasn't shy about telling or, preferably, showing anybody and everybody. Kankuro had given Naruto some vids to watch or whatever, but meanwhile, word had gotten to Neji about what was going on. Because everything, eventually, got back to Neji's fucking pointy elf ears.

"So the other day," Kankuro had told Kiba in the pitch-black darkness of the high school theatre, "Neji comes over to us at lunch, right? And he says he knows what we're doing, that there's right and wrong ways to do it, and given Sasuke's history, we needed to be careful. Like, he's totally lecturing us, and I wasn't even fucking playing with 'em, man!"

"Playin'?" Kiba had asked, ignorant as shit.

"Yeah, it's what they like, call it. 'Playing.' Like sandboxes and toy cars, except you're putting sand in eyeballs and throwing the cars at a dude's nuts."

Kiba had laughed, fascinated. "So what did his royal assholeness do?"

"He says he's got a guy lined up to show us some stuff, teach us how to swing. That's how he put it: swing. Hey, batter, batter."

"Who's the guy?"

Kankuro had shrugged. "Some guy Neji knows from Green Dojo. Ex-military."

"Not Kakashi?" Kiba asked. He'd heard plenty of rumors about that crazy, nosy fucker.

"That's what I thought, too," Kankuro said. "Seeing as how everybody knows Neji's wanted to fuck Kakashi for years, but no. Kakashi's deployed right now."

"Huh. So Neji just meets some kinky bastard in the Dojo, and invites him to show you all how to do things right?"

"Guess so."

Kiba had whistled. "Damn. I gotta get my ass to this Dojo, and, bro, I gotta fuckin' get to this--"

"No." Kankuro had already been shaking his head.

"Oh, c'mon!"

"Bad enough I already told your sorry ass. If you show up, Neji will have my balls, and he will remove them an inch at a godamned time with a dull, cold knife!"

Kiba had rolled his eyes, and he'd taken the good-natured punch that Kankuro had delivered to his bicep for it. "I don't know why everybody's so afraid of the Prince," Kiba had said.

Kankuro had dropped a screwdriver from the crows, and it had bounced down the aisle. "You do know what his family does, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, dirty politicians, Prime Minister, whatever."

"His uncle regularly kills people, Kiba."

"Yeah, who's uncle don't? So... how can you get me in on this, man?"

Kankuro had thrown up his hands. "You can't come. You show up, I'm dead, that's it."

"Where's it gonna be goin' down?"

"Some hotel."

"Get me the name, and I'll be there. Just sorta show up, insinuate myself, and refuse to leave."

Kankuro had looked dubious at best. "What they gonna do?" Kiba had asked. "If they tell me to get the fuck out, I'll tell 'em I'll share what they're up to. Neji ain't fuckin' eighteen, yet. An' I'm bettin' the military dude ain't south 'a thirty. Even if nobody gets fucked, shit's still illegal with minors, and I bet Uncle Dearest won't like that shit. Or that his prodigy nephew is gayer than a tweetin' canary in sequins."

Kankuro had stared at Kiba with wide, beady eyes. "You... are a crazy motherfucker."

"Yeh, so I heard. Now, what's the damned hotel's name, bitch?"

It'd been easy from there. Kiba had gotten the info, shown up at the appropriate place and time, and the second Neji had seen Kiba, he'd gotten that rare, delicious look that screamed, Well, fuck, I've been had. Kiba hadn't needed to resort to threats at all, much to Kankuro's relief and less to Kiba's, but that's how Kiba'd met Tenzou Asashi, an ex-marine turned architect who liked shaping wood into Saint Andrew's crosses, among other things. Tenzou and Tenzou's partner, Jack, Naruto, Sasuke, Kankuro, Neji, and Kiba had all gone into a hotel room at the Magnolia to learn about everything from autoerotic asphyxiation to zookeeping fetishes, and if that hadn't been insane enough, Kiba had also met Neji's... friend... A cross-dressing professional boytoy named Raquelle who used to run with a gang called the Saints. How the hell the two had met or what, exactly, Neji and Raquelle were to one another wasn't clear, though Kiba was pretty convinced that Raquelle was a project for Neji; somebody to save. Neji's god complex was bigger than his collection of Miss Manners Handbooks and his vanity combined.

After that first night at Hotel Mags, Kiba had been officially part of the kinky collective. They'd all met up at least once a week pretty much every week ever since, and when they had the basics of tools and safety down, they'd started to draw lots and pair up to practice. They didn't do that every time they got together, because Neji had Raquelle and Naruto had Sasuke and Tenzou had Jack. Kiba and Kankuro fit one another pretty damned well, but Jack, always clear on what he wanted and how, had made it plain that Kiba was always... always... welcome to join Jack and Tenzou's games. Kankuro, too, if he had to take one with the other.

But they all knew they'd be doing Scene shit with people who weren't their partners at some point, or, at least, they all hoped that'd be the case, so swapping eventually came up, as did switching roles in existing partnerships. Drawing lots when they wanted to change things up had seemed the fairest way to go, though everyone quickly realized that putting Sasuke in any sort of power position made for a stressed out Sasbitch and a nervous bottom. It wasn't that Sas couldn't handle it, exactly, but being responsible for himself was rough enough on most days for the kid. Now Naruto usually accompanied any of Sasuke's playdates, and that went pretty well.

Neji had waited and exacted his revenge on Kankuro's ass for spilling the beans to Kiba, and it'd been fucking beautiful. Over the months, Kiba had seen his friends do shit to one another that had been previously beyond his wildest dreams. Hell, he'd doneshit to his friends that he never had thought possible to do and still have a civil conversation the next day that didn't involve getting served with a restraining order. And everybody had been combined pretty evenly... except for Neji.

Be it luck or rigging the draw, Neji tended to draw the dom card four-to-one over the sub card. Nobody really seemed to mind, because Neji was damned good at what he did. Neji and his complexes took to mastering another human being like a bear to a honey pot, and it was, Kiba had to admit, kind of beautiful to watch Neji master the shit out of Sasuke in less than two minutes flat, when Naruto couldn't do the same if you gave him two years. Oh, God, but Naruto had pouted about that crap. For weeks.

On the rare occasions Neji did sub, he'd bottomed for Tenzou, Kankuro, Raquelle, and even Naruto, but not Kiba. Now, Kiba had served his ass up to Neji on numerous occasions, and it'd been hot and fun and left Kiba with all the good kinds of bruises and abrasions. Neji didn't like to roll as hard as Tenzou or Naruto, but with proper encouragement, the guy eventually let go and let out the roaring beast within. Cap that shit off with Neji's cock sunk balls deep in Kiba's ass, and damn, man, they'd had themselves some fine times.

See, Kiba didn't care which side he was on, usually. He could always find a grin in the sins of mayhem, but after months of rolling around in the crazy, it'd started to wear thin on Kiba that Neji seemed to get special privileges. Especially since Kiba was salivating at the mouth and dick to get the chance to knock over Neji's pride and get a shot at Neji's sweet ass. Kiba fucking loved a challenge. He liked it better when the challenge was rooted in history and hardship. That tended to make Kiba sound like a real prick when he said that out loud, but Kiba didn't mean it that way. It was just that he'd had an easy damned life. He thought he was kind of boring, really, but he found people fascinating. Especially complicated, twisted, dark, disturbed, and kinky people. The more intricate, the better, and in their little group, Neji was at the top of the list for fucking intricate.

So, one day when they'd all gotten together and been about to draw straws, Kiba had spoken up about his concerns and irritations. Loudly. Pointedly. And at great length. It'd been amazing to watch what happened after Kiba had dropped his bomb: "Neji don't sub as much as the rest of us do. Maybe he's fuckin' scared or maybe he's just a fuckin' cheat."

Neji had turned purple and pink, apoplectic in his pissed-off fit. Once Kiba'd let that cat out of the bag, the rest of the room had sunk their teeth into the Prince's flesh, calling him out and giving Neji the third degree. To Neji's credit, he'd merely shrugged it off with a toss of his hair. When the commotion had died down, and when Tenzou had asked if Neji was, in fact, truly uncomfortable with something, Neji had snorted in that high-brow way of his and said the sweetest little words Kiba'd ever heard:

"Of course not, and if Kiba's so offended, then I'll make my amends to him. No lots for us. I'm with him, and I'll serve."

"So you'll sub?" Kiba had pressed while the rest of the room had looked at Kiba like he'd been nuts for pushing his luck. They didn't seem to understand that Kiba made his luck by living on the edge.

"Serve," Neji corrected. "Yes."

"What, you don't like the word, 'sub'?"

"That's enough, Kiba," Tenzou had decreed, and even Kiba was smart enough to let it go at that point.

And that, boys and girls, was how he'd ended up with an anxious Hyuuga circling his apartment, looking for a way out. "And you think the persuasive skills that earned you a right to new research material and games to play will get you back your job?" Neji asked.

"Yeah, they'll ask me back. 'Cause not only was I gettin' fuckin' dirty and raw, I was also gettin' good."

"You're so sure?"

Kiba stretched, rocking and crossing one leg so his ankle rested on the opposite knee. "DJ Stryke and Open Line is the biggest shit to hit this city since gang wars, and I don't gotta kill nobody to make my point." Kiba laughed. "Ever since Kankers got me hooked up with his boy at the station, I been doin' the short waves here. I just transferred all my on-air material to the big boys when they gave me the shot. They say I got a face for radio." Kiba winked at Neji, but Neji didn't take the chance to launch another barb.

Instead, Neji frowned and kept his peace. Kiba made mental note and went back to running his mouth. "Ever since I made up Stryke, I been handin' out stickers and posters 'n shit. Jus' the other fuckin' day I saw a goddamned cab with 'BITE ME MONOSHIZUKANOHI' on the fuckin' bumper. A cab, man! So yeah, I think I'm good enough to get invited back, and if I ain't? I'll do my thing from here and get better shit to do it with. I can always go work for the family biz, get some cash."

"How are your parents?" Neji asked.

"They're fine, thanks. They opened another Stuff for Paws closer to the Fashion District."

"I wasn't aware that pet food stores met the District's requirements."

"Naw, they spruced up the storefront and changed up the inventory. Sellin' like, diamonds for poodles and bullshit." Kiba shrugged. "Whatever. Dad's happy, Mom's busy, and nobody bothers me 'bout what I may or may not be doin' right in life." Kiba dropped his hands to the chair's armrests, drumming his fingers. "We gonna get down to business or what?"

"My uncle is well, thank you for asking," Neji said pointedly.

"How nice for him. So that's a 'no' to business, now, I guess?"

"And Raquelle's fine, too. In good health."

Kiba sighed. "A'right then. We can chat. I got all day."

Neji continued ignoring Kiba. "He's thinking of enrolling in college next term, joining me at MU. At my rate, I'll be done a year early, but..." Neji shrugged. He'd almost made the entire loop, but he'd slowed down as he approached the offset room to the right of the main door. In the olden days, the fourteen-by-fourteen round room had been a sitting area. Kiba had transformed it by boarding up the windows and hanging black curtains over the entrance into the room.

"You always was a smart one," Kiba commented.

Neji frowned. "Have you noticed that Jack isn't looking altogether like himself, lately?"

Kiba briefly shut his eyes, gnashed his teeth, and tried to find patience. "Look, Nej, I appreciate the info 'bout the family and Jack and yer boyfriend, and all, but--"

"Raquelle isn't my boyfriend," Neji said, and there was a pitch to his tone that derailed Kiba off-topic.

"Okay, well... girlfriend or lover or what--"

"We're friends, really. Just friends."

Kiba snorted. "Friends who beat each other 'n fuck?"

Neji's hand darted up to his face, and he tucked hair behind his ear. It was one of Neji's most obvious nervous-as-all-shades-of-hell tells. "I suppose."

"Yeah?" Kiba leaned forward in his chair. "What else do you suppose?"

Neji had been resolutely staring toward the rear of the apartment, but his eyes slid along the floor toward Kiba's bare feet. "I... suppose... that I'm not in love with him."

"An' this is important?" Kiba asked.

"It's a revelation recently come to my attention."

Kiba was lost in left field on a tight rope suspended over an alligator pit, and he was fucking happy as shit to be there. "Okay... so what brought it up? The revelation?"

Neji didn't say a thing for a freakin' eternity, and Kiba let the guy weigh the options at his own pace. Neji was a smart dude. Sooner rather than later, he'd come to the conclusion that there was no graceful way out of this line of questioning because Neji had brought it all upon himself.

And sure enough, Kiba's suppositions paid off. "I seem to have acquired feelings for someone in the outreaches of our... in-group," Neji said.

"Jesus. Does that mean you want to bang one of our friends?"

"In your vernacular, yes."

"Is it me?"

Neji's eyes snapped to Kiba's and widened. "Christ, no."

Kiba burst into laughter. "A'right, then. Good." Kiba shrugged off Neji's incredulous expression. "Look, I don't gotta fuckin' love you to hurt you. I just gotta like you a little and know yer the right kind 'a crazy."

"Such attitude does suit you," Neji said.

"A'yup, it do. So." Kiba got up and smiled at Neji. "Take your mind off the poor schmuck you think is too good fer ya?"

"What makes you think I think..." Neji paused. "Why do you say that?"

"'Cause if you thought you could tag 'im, you'd be in 'im by now. Or her. However you wanna fuckin' roll."

Neji surprised Kiba by laughing, but it was a sad, sorry sort of laugh. "Kiba, one of these days... you are going to find someone who changes you... and I can only hope to be there and watch the miracle happen."

Kiba seriously doubted he'd find the kind of challenging person who'd not only hold Kiba's interest, but who might also, somehow, not notice that Kiba was one hell of an uphill battle, himself. Picky, belligerent, irritatingly good at ferreting things out of people, opinionated, rough, worked odd hours and wasn't heading for the main stream huge job... Not to mention a fucking pervert and a guy determined in the kind of way that might get Kiba killed or at least find him standing in the middle of Danger Road, naked and covered in neon paint. "Well, if 'n when that happens, I'll let ya know," Kiba said. "Fact, I'll let the whole goddamned city know. Broadcast it 'n shit, a'ight? Jus' to make sure yer up to speed."

Neji smirked. "Deal."

"Cool. Now. Let's talk 'bout you, 'cause that playroom ain't gettin' any warmer." Kiba nodded at the curtained-off room, and Neji, who had managed not to glance that way even once so far, finally gave it a disgusted twist of his lips.

"Fine," Neji said, coming closer to Kiba. As Neji passed, he lingered long enough to speak directly into Kiba's ear. "Let's chat," Neji said, and kept on walking.

Kiba had no idea what the hell Neji's deal was or why he took such offense at Kiba being in power, and it took everything Kiba had not to grab the damn man and kiss, grope, fuck that holier-than-thou look off Neji's face. But that would get Kiba nothing for the trouble but a right hook, so Kiba sat down again, facing Neji, who sat on the arm of Kiba's old sofa. The position put Neji physically higher than Kiba, and Kiba wanted to bellow in frustration. Jesus Himself didn't stand a chance at loosening this bitch up, much less Kiba.

"No pain, no metal restraints, no coarse rope, no marks, no fire, no needles, no hands behind my back..."

Neji kept listing off particulars, but Kiba stopped listening. Neji spoke like he'd figured out the three things in the universe he was willing to do with Kiba and had memorized the no-go speech. So Kiba stopped trying to figure out Neji with his eyes or ears and started using his nose and his guts.

It'd been years and years ago, now, that Kiba had figured out his ability to scent people: intuit shit about them based on the way they smelled. Call it a summation of body language or call it alien psychic ability or whatever you wanted to label it, Kiba knew things about some people that other people didn't see or couldn't figure out, and Kiba learned those things with his nose. It didn't work on everybody, and when it did work, it couldn't be fine-tuned crap, nothing real subtle. The stuff Kiba could gleam had to be obvious. Anger ready to boil over or depression ready to make a man loose his marbles or, as Kiba most often used it, lust ready to jump the line from sincere interest to desperate measures. Sure, some of that stuff was easy for anybody to see, but sometimes what Kiba smelled were the things people tried desperately to hide.

Kiba had never thought he was crazy, because his family knew too much about animal behavior for him to think what he could do was completely outside the realm of sane. Apparently, it wasn't even that uncommon. A lot of people could actually detect shifts in body chemistry -- it aided the brain in fight or flight mode, and it was evolutionarily beneficial -- but most idiots didn't know what they were doing. Kiba made it his business to fucking know. He was no dog with a schnoz that could smell bacon dropped on the floor a year ago or anything like that, but Kiba did have more nostril ability than most. So did his mom, and oh man, had that ever been annoying growing up.

But the cool thing and the confusing thing was that everybody smelled differently. Some states of being smelled similarly. For instance, depression was always rotten and anger was always spicy. Arousal took a little longer to pinpoint, but it was usually polite enough to be the most obvious of the spectrum. Say Kiba was sitting next to some cute kid on the subway. Kid thought Kiba was hot, started thinking about fucking. Suddenly, all Kiba would smell was oranges. Or the salt of the ocean. Lemongrass. Mint. Pumpkin. Something completely random in a place where it shouldn't be: that was lust.

Neji, of course, had to be an irritatingly subtle fucker when it came to his phernomes. It wouldn't do for the Prince of the realm to be easy, oh but no. When Neji got turned on, he didn't smell like fruit or food or even swamp water. Nah, Neji was too cool for that.

Neji... smelled... clean. Pure. Not quite soap, not quite detergent... more like fresh laundry off the line. It wasn't antiseptic like one would suppose; not winter incarnate or fresh-fallen snow. No, Neji when aroused wasn't wintery at all. He was spring time. Warm. Sunshine with a hint of butterfly garden.

For the longest time, Kiba supposed Neji was just an overly hygienic kind of guy, and Neji's cologne -- that expensive French crap -- covered the natural scent enough that it'd been a bitch to separate it out. Kiba had nailed it in the Magnolia Hotel room, though, and once he'd identified the scent, there wasn't anything a body could do to hide it from Kiba.

So when they'd been planning out where and how to get together and play, Kiba had, in a moment of rare brilliance, requested that Neji not wear cologne. He'd used the same excuse Neji did about Kiba's dog -- shit gave him the sniffles.

Which was why, as Kiba sat across from a perching Neji trying to dictate the evening's plans within an inch of their everloving life, Kiba was thoroughly distracted by the wafting waves of spring linen that were positively flowing off of Neji. There was a sensate flood going down in Kiba's living room, and it liked to drown Kiba.

On one hand, that could just be Neji getting off on controlling circumstance or it could be Neji's response to Scene in general. Kiba's gut, however, which was even sharper than his nose, told Kiba that Neji's want didn't have to do with dictating orders or proximity to leather straps. It didn't even really have to do with Kiba, although that was a healthy portion of it. See, the really useful thing about being trapped in a room with seven other men with raging hard-ons and kinky missions was that Kiba got to smell when the scents spiked. And Neji's had spiked when he'd been in control, oh abso-fucking-lutely, but it had also spiked when Neji wasn’t in power.

Which made him oh-so-very interesting. A bright white ping on Kiba's radar.

"... and no breath play. We won't be doing edge anything." Neji finally paused for air. "Get all that, Inuzuka?"

"Mm."

"You seem distracted."

"Mm," Kiba grunted again, contemplating strategy. Direct would probably be best. Neji didn't do well with direct. It ripped Neji's well-laid intentions out by the short hairs. Kiba could take a page out of Jack's book and just cut through Neji's protests like Jack did with Tenzou's.

"You're not exactly boosting my confidence in you, Kiba," Neji droned.

"Yeah." Kiba looked Neji dead square. "Neji?"

"Yes?"

"What the fuck do you want?"

Neji went on the wary defensive. "I beg your pardon?"

"All that's shit you don't want. Don't like. Don't want me to do. Don't want nothin' to do with. Okay. Cool. How 'bout you tell me what you do fuckin' want?"

Without even missing a beat, Neji answered: "I want to make good on my promise to come here today to serve you so that you'll stop publically accusing me of being a manipulative coward."

Kiba couldn't control his sneer. "So I can keep sayin' it in private, then?"

"Fuck you."

"An' you are manipulative."

Neji vibrated, and Kiba would swear Neji's hair sucked static out of the air and used it to stand on end. "I do what I must," Neji said tightly.

"Mmhm, an' yer a fuckin' coward."

Neji shot up and onto his feet. "Excuse me?"

"Ya want somethin' and ya ain't tellin' me--"

"I told you what I wanted," Neji hissed.

"Nah." Kiba kept his seat, smiling up at Neji. "Ya want somethin' else."

"I assure you, I do not."

"Yer lyin'."

"And what would you know of it?" Neji snarled. He clenched his fists, but there was an uneasiness about his eyes, almost a pleading buried in there somewhere, and Kiba homed in on it.

"Dunno," Kiba said quietly. "But it smells nice."

Neji's shoulders dropped, body sagging, and his face formed a mask of cynical, flummoxed disgust. "Oh grow up, Kiba. Batman and Santa Claus are myths, just like your nose thing. Nobody believes that shit, most of all, I hope to God, you." Neji stalked away, heading for the closet.

"Fine, get on out 'a here, then, but this is yer last chance," Kiba called, slowly standing and sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Go to hell." Neji slammed the closet door, and Kiba held his ground, facing away from Neji.

"I can give you what ya want," Kiba said.

"Apparently not."

"Nah, I mean what ya really want."

"You don't even know what that is."

"So there is somethin', eh? Who's got it all wrong now, Prince?"

Neji let go of a put-upon sigh. "Someday you'll learn the difference between confidence and egotism, Kiba, but I have no desire to instruct you today."

"It ain't egotism," Kiba replied, and he couldn't help but notice that Neji hadn't gone for the door. "I know I got a shot, and you know it, too." He felt drunk, his pulse was racing so fast. The risk he was taking, here, was huge, and he knew it, but he had a feeling it'd be completely worth it if his scatter-shot plan managed to work, somehow.

Kiba was in full-on sweat mode by the time Neji spoke again, and the sound came from a different point in the room. Damned sneaky, silent bastard. "You think you know something about me, Inuzuka?"

Neji's purr was dangerous, and Kiba's balls decided to pipe up and mention that they liked their position attached to Kiba's person, and really didn't want to be removed, and everything in Neji's voice indicated that violent separation was imminent. Kiba told the dudes to calm their hairy tits. He had this under control. Sort of. "Ya. I fuckin' do know somethin'."

"And what is that, exactly?"

"I know that ya ain't wanted me 'n you paired up in any way that don't involve me at your fuckin' mercy." Kiba did, actually, know that was a true statement, but all the same, he was babbling out of his ass, now, and the ice was getting thin to the point of brittle.

But when Neji didn't have any witty comebacks, Kiba deliberately rolled his shoulders, crossed his arms, and appeared the epitome of mildly irked and mostly disinterested. "An' I know yer obey-me-bitch bluster is all for fuckin' show. At least it is today, here, and with me. An'--"

Kiba didn't even hear him coming or understand what the hell it was that Neji did. All Kiba knew was that his balance went bye-bye, he went airborn, he hit the floor with a painful slam that drove air out of his lungs, and suddenly he had a face-full of scowling Neji.

"Goddamn it, Hyuuga," Kiba cursed, but it was nothing more than a breathy wheeze.

"No part of me is just show," Neji growled at Kiba. He was sort of perched on top of Kiba, and they glared one another down for the few seconds it took for Kiba to regain wits. The instant Kiba had them, he pitched to the left, slamming Neji onto the rug and covering Neji with all his weight. Neji didn't fight him, which was weird, but Kiba was too grateful to think too much about his luck.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Kiba barked. "Yer a fuckin' pain on a good day, but this is fuckin' ridiculous, Nej. Yer actin' like goddamned Sasuke for Chrissakes." Kiba searched Neji's face for a full count of ten, but Neji's lips were set in a thin line.

"Fine," Kiba said, bracing to get up. "Get outta here, then. You don't want t'be here? I don't fuckin' want you to be, neither."

Kiba shoved toward upright, but Neji grabbed Kiba by the thin, silver chain Kiba wore around his neck. Kiba stopped, gave Neji a long look that he hoped composed sonnets of his irritation, and started to get up, anyway, favorite necklace be damned, but Neji hooked fingers through Kiba's belt loop.

"Really? We doin' this now?" Kiba took hold of Neji's wrist, but Neji wrapped one leg around Kiba's so Kiba couldn't bend that knee. "The fuck, Neji?"

Neji grunted at Kiba, and he knocked an elbow into the bend of Kiba's arm. Kiba went sprawling, and when he did, Neji rocked up and into Kiba, one hand in Kiba's hair and the other tangled at the waist of Kiba's jeans. Neji's shirt was silky against Kiba's bare chest. Neji's fingers were actually gentle against Kiba's scalp. He smelled like linen lust and rosemary mint shampoo, his cheek was remarkably stubble-free against Kiba's, and Neji's breathing hitched right in Kiba's ear when Neji pulsed upward again, rubbing himself against Kiba's hip.

Kiba... was only fucking human.

"Neji..." Kiba whispered, rolling with the changing tides. He stopped fighting Neji and busied himself with planting kisses to the juncture of throat to jaw. "C'mon, man. I ain't the enemy, here. Just tell me..."

After a long, distracting moment, Kiba got his answer: "I've not subbed before," Neji murmured into Kiba's neck.

"Sure ya have," Kiba said, and Neji gave him enough slack to get a forearm on the ground so he could meet Neji's eyes. Neji shook his head, almost sadly, and Kiba started to explain to Neji that getting tied to one of Tenzou's bondage towers and being tag-teamed by Jack and Tenzou while getting sucked off by Raquelle definitely qualified, but then Kiba got it.

"You ain't fallen into space before," Kiba said. Neji dropped his eyes, and Kiba stared at his fingers touching Neji's face and tracing Neji's cheek, wondering when his brain had given them permission to do that. "Not even with Raquelle?" Kiba asked softly.

"No. Always been in groups... we don't do the Scene stuff by ourselves."

"But you didn't want to play with me at the hotel with the group. You wanted to come... here... to be with me..." Realizations struck Kiba in a storm of ground-to-brain lightning. "Oh," he said, and watched his hand move from Neji's cut-glass cheekbone to the front of Neji's throat.

"Yeah," Neji whispered.

"You wanted to... be here so..." Kiba swallowed a grunt that was almost a groan.

"Not going to back down from your claim now, are you?" Neji asked, his gaze canting to Kiba's.

"Hell no. I don't back down from anythin'." Kiba petted Neji's Adam's Apple with his thumb, and Neji's eyelashes flickered. Kiba's cock throbbed in his jeans, and he made sure Neji could feel that Kiba was made of iron and steel, and it was all for Neji. Kiba caught Neji's chin and tipped it just enough for Neji to feel the grip. "But you still gotta say the words."

Neji licked his lips, rubbing them together to wet them evenly. "Didn't think they'd be so hard."

"Go on 'n try," Kiba encouraged, letting go of Neji's face and starting to undo the topmost button of Neji's shirt.

"I want..." Neji began, but he trailed off, faltering with a quickened breath.

Kiba noticed, but he was distracted by what he discovered Neji had on beneath the button-down. Kiba worked his way to mid-chest, and he pushed aside the outer fabric to caress the black mesh Neji wore under it. The weave was tiny, satin to the touch, and it clung to Neji's hairless, bare skin like a second coating of pretty, pale paint.

"What's this?" Kiba murmured, rhetorical, and he made quick work of the rest of Neji's shirt, flipping the tails aside to expose Neji in meshed glory. The undershirt was sleeveless, and it stopped at Neji's navel. Kiba traced his fingertips all over it, swirling up to Neji's nipple. Neji's hips twitched, thrusting into the air.

"Fuck, Nej..." Kiba scooted higher and worked a hand into Neji's hair. God, but it was thick and soft and felt really fucking good wrapped around his fingers. Kiba pulled, just a little, and he kept his other hand wandering all over Neji's torso, fascinated by the feel of the shirt and by the way Neji's breathing had picked up, even from such simple treatment.

"C'mon..." Kiba said, staring at Neji and watching Neji's pupils get wider and wider. "Ya know this ain't the hard part... tellin' me..."

"No?" Neji asked, all rasp and grit, sand against stone.

"Nah... Sayin' you'd be mine in that hotel room... that was hard." Kiba rubbed his knuckles over Neji's lower abs, and the muscles jumped. "Gettin' all dolled up for me 'fore you came on over t'face the me 'n the music..."

"I didn't," Neji contradicted, eyelids at half-mast and dick straining against his zipper.

"Ya did," Kiba insisted, and as he spoke, he leaned evermore closer, until his nose was against Neji's cheek. "An' it's good. It's sweet. I like it. I like you. I like ya here, I like ya under me. I like ya wantin' me 'n this, and I like you tellin' me... sayin' the words... they be easy, now, 'cause it's me... an' you know me. You know I'll be good to you and for you, give ya what ya want, what ya fuckin' need... 'n it all starts..." Kiba hovered his palm over Neji's groin, not touching but feeling the heat. "When you say..."

Neji's breath rushed out his nose, and he gulped around a low sound. He got a hand around the back of Kiba's neck, pressing them closer, and Kiba went along for the ride, mostly on top of Neji with his forearms to either side. Neji blew in Kiba's ear, chest rising and falling faster and faster until Kiba thought it might crack, and teeth dragged on Kiba's earlobe and fingers clutched at his back.

"Undo me," Neji said, each syllable a ton of coal dumped into Kiba's greedy furnace. The world narrowed to words and bodies and stoking fires. "Whatever it takes, whatever you need... make me fall, make it... make it hurt, make me honest... and then get me the fuck off."

"Oh..." Kiba sucked a lung full of clean springtime. "You got it."

~*~

Author's Notes:

Story is dedicated to Ddreams, who kicked this story from seedling into full-on forest.

I own the world, the originals, and the plot, but not the Naruto boys.

AUDIO! THERE BE AUDIO! And outtakes. Check 'em out!

http://www.4shared.com/folder/mM80l-eu/Short_Straw.html

Much love & hair porn!

<3Dee
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Short Straw