Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

Hatsu	By : dragonslover1 Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1420 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 9
- 10
- 11
Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

Hatsu

Chapter Ten

What had that look been about?

Gaara wondered about it, long after Team Four had left. Of course, he�d had to focus on speaking specifically to Masumata the entire time the team had been here, glad to hear of their success with the animals. But as they started to leave, his eyes glued to Suzaki. And he�d seen, for the barest of a second, how she�d met his gaze. As she turned away, he could swear he saw her wet and then bite her lip.

It was a sexy move on her part, to be sure. He felt the pulls of desire even now, hours later, past nightfall. He had more than a full plate tonight, meaning he wouldn�t be getting any sleep tonight. Not that he minded the lack of sleep; one who was unused to sleep wouldn�t miss it when he didn�t have it. No, the thing about a full night of work that bothered him was the fact that he wouldn�t be seeing Suzaki for a while.

Or so he figured. For whatever reason, the two of them just couldn�t escape one another. At close to ten o�clock, there was a knock at the door. Not that there was anything special about that; he was used to getting some visitor or another every hour on the hour. The only thing of note was how much lighter this knock was, compared to the usual strong rap.

�Come in,� he said.

The door opened and there was Suzaki, one arm behind her back. �Evening,� she greeted.

He stared for a long moment, not having expected this. Then he shook himself, gesturing her inside. �What are you doing here?�

As she came in, she lifted her previously-hidden arm. She was holding --

�A bento?� he laughed. The move on her part startled him. She was making him bentos now?

She shrugged. �I felt obliged to feed you,� she explained, setting the box on the desk. �I wasn�t sure when you usually ate, but at ten, I didn�t think it�d be smart to wait any longer.�

Suzaki, who loved him, was making him bentos. He couldn�t seem to get the thought out of his head, corny though it was. �I usually go back to eat whenever I get especially hungry,� he answered.

She smiled. �Now you don�t need to bother with the trip.� She sounded pleased with herself.

Didn�t she know what a strong distraction she was? It was difficult to concentrate on anything with her around -- anything except her. �Thank you,� he said, getting the feeling that she had a hidden motive behind the bento. He glanced at it now, wondering at its contents. �What�s in it?�

Her smile grew strained. �Not your favorite,� she said with a laugh. �I wouldn�t know where to start with salted tongue.�

If he didn�t know any better, he�d swear she were more amused than disgusted. �I have all the ingredients,� he told her.

�I don�t doubt you do.�

Going back to his previous thought about the contents of the bento, he listed what he figured she would make. �Sweet and sour chicken?� he guessed.

She shook her head. �Negative, sir. You didn�t seem to particularly like it yesterday.�

He noticed the way she phrased that last bit, saying �yesterday� instead of �last night.� It sounded less intimate that way. And for some reason, it bothered him.

He guessed again, �Orange chicken?�

She grinned, nodded. �Yep.�

He eyed her skeptically. �You seem especially pleased with yourself.�

�It turned out really great,� she explained.

Was that the hidden motive? That she�d done a good job cooking and wanted to share it with him? Was she really that kind of woman? He wasn�t expecting it, that was for sure. Although, he had to admit, her giddiness would be well explained if that were the case.

�I trust you,� he replied. He waved at her. �Now stop distracting me. Go on, to bed with you.�

She nodded, turned away -- was that a pout? -- and answered, �Yes sir.�

After she�d gone, he found himself staring at that box. The fact that it was even sitting there had him still with shock. No one had ever brought him a bento before -- no one except family, anyway. All those girls who claimed to love him? Not a single bento from any of them. He had the sudden, wacky thought of building a shrine around it.

He laughed at himself, rubbing his forehead. Here he was, getting sentimental over a box of food, when Suzaki herself probably thought little of it, possibly nothing. She was simply feeding the Kazekage on a long work night. Hell, she might even have felt honored to do so.

Eat it already, he told himself. Else you�ll be thinking about it all night.

He pushed the papers away, took up the box, pushed his chair back and cross his ankles on the desk. Why he enjoyed reclining while he ate was beyond him, but it was his habit nonetheless. He�d thought it over on occasion in the past, of course, though he always wrote it off as a quirk on his part.

Chopsticks in hand, he unfolded the cloth and took off the lid. Immediately the smell had wafted up, and it was then that he realized he was hungry after all. The smell of orange chicken and white rice had him salivating.

That realization surprised him. He�d had orange chicken before; had it ever made him salivate? Probably not. It wasn�t on his list of favored foods. Maybe it had something to do with hunger --

Or maybe, his mind argued, it has something to do with Suzaki.

He had to admit, regardless of the reason, it smelled good. Then again, why wouldn�t it? It was Suzaki�s favorite. Everyone knew how to cook their favorite foods, even the people who didn�t know left from right in a kitchen.

The first bite had him convinced she hadn�t been exaggerating. Sure, he wasn�t overly fond of the food, but it was much better than last night�s sweet and sour chicken, regardless. If she could keep up this quality with it, he might as well add orange chicken to his list.

He realized he was thinking in lengthy terms, imagining that she was still living with him a year or two from now. It was strange how much that thought pleased him.

Some time later found him back to work, though this time he wore a satisfied smile. He couldn�t have said, if someone asked in so many words, why he was smiling, but there it was. The bento box was empty, closed, and wrapped just as it�d been delivered to him.

As expected, his work was interrupted every so often by thoughts of Suzaki. Luckily for him, he was growing increasingly talented at multitasking during those times. Imagining feeling the texture of her stomach with his tongue while assigning a B-class mission to Team Twelve? Easy. He wondered how much of his future would be like this.

And he found himself excited by the thought of spending forever with her in the back of his mind. But the question -- that frustrating, everlasting question -- was always there with her, whether he wanted it to be or not.

Did he love her?

That was when an uncertainty hit, regarding love. He�d spent so long wanting love, giving or taking or both. How would he know what it felt like? How would he know when he was in love? How did Suzaki know, for that matter? Disappointment had always told him that he wasn�t in love. Did that mean joy or satisfaction would mean he was?

There were too many unknown factors in this equation, he realized. Too many questions he couldn�t answer because he hadn�t a clue where to start.

And then it clicked in his mind that Suzaki knew. She had those answers he sought. She would be able to tell him what he wanted to know.

But she isn�t going to like the questions, his mind replied, almost warning him. He had to incline his head in agreement. He couldn�t imagine her being too happy if he asked her, �What does it feel like, to be in love?� Nonetheless, he had to ask the question if he wanted the answer.

He made a mental note to do so, later. The next time he saw her, perhaps. Which, as it turned out, was more than a day later. It was the following night, close to midnight, and he was tired. Then again, those past few nights when he had stayed with Suzaki, he hadn�t slept. And he doubted she knew that. In fact, it�d been more than a week -- not counting the occasional nap on his desk.

Despite the fact that he had been aching to sleep for the past three days, it hadn�t come. Perhaps tonight it would.

It occurred to him, as he reached his front door, that Suzaki was probably asleep. Just like all the normal people who didn�t have forced insomnia. He wondered, not for the first time, if he was ever going to sleep regularly. If not, well, at least he could envision himself with the same sleeping habits sixty years from now.

He got a surprise when he closed the door and flipped on the light. The TV was on, though it was only displaying a blue screen. Suzaki was lying on the couch across from it, asleep. And the table had a rice-sprinkled plate on it and an empty glass.

Other than flinching when the light came on, she didn�t move or wake. He took the moment to look her over, seeing a side of Suzaki he hadn�t seen before. Her hair, for one, was loose, brushed behind her shoulder but not behind her ear. He recognized the oversized shirt she was wearing -- and recognized that she wasn�t wearing the matching pants.

She was mostly on her back, arms across her stomach, left leg propped up and right leg out straight, ankle on the opposite arm. For being someone asleep, she was damn sexy.

He realized he was ogling a sleeping woman and shook his head. So he came closer, intent on waking her up and sending her to bed -- an oxymoron, in a sense. As he neared her, he caught a glimpse of red on her inner thigh. His first thought was that it was blood, but that idea was dashed as soon as it came to mind. Blood didn�t fit inside the lines, so to speak, and those marks were pretty clean cut. Not to mention blood didn�t flow up, and that was her propped up leg.

A cut? Or a scar? He moved to get a better look, trying to ignore to the part of his brain that was screaming what a bad idea this was at him. And then he realized it wasn�t a scar, but a tattoo. It was a single word in kanji.

It stopped him dead where he was, the screaming in his head going silent. Though part of the word was hidden from sight, he recognized it instantly. The word was �ai� -- love. The same word that was on his brow.

His eyes shifted to her face, an odd pleasure-pain starting in his chest. This new knowledge made it difficult to think clearly for him. A thousand questions raced through his mind, each one jumbled together and none coming to the surface. The only word his mind could translate was the word �why.�

Why did she have that tattoo? Why was it on her thigh? Why hadn�t she told him? Had she told anyone else? Had anyone else seen it? Is this why she seemed so unwilling to show her bare legs around him? Was she embarrassed by it? Did she regret it? Should he tell her he saw it? Should he even wake her up? Why hadn�t she waken up by herself yet? Couldn�t she sense his presence there?

He held his head, trying and failing to silence his thoughts. Just more questions without answers, like before -- the last thing he needed. Shaking his head, he tried to come up with an idea, something to do or look at to distract him. Well, that was a bad train of thought. The only thing he knew was capable of distracting him at the drop of a hat was. . .

He glanced down at her again, and against his will, he found himself staring intently at the tattoo. He had the urge to touch it, as if he needed proof that it was there. But that was stupid; you couldn�t feel tattoos. They were visible only.

Desire, he found, grew the longer he stared. More and more passionate thoughts came to mind. Why touch it when he could kiss it? Forget kissing, he could lick it. Suck on it. How pretty it would look set against a multitude of hickies. And how good it would feel, for the both of them --

Stop it, just stop, he snarled at himself. She moved. She�s waking up now, you idiot.

Trying to cover up the whole thing, he knelt by the couch and nudged her. Her eyes opened with difficulty, settled on him.

�You�re on the couch,� he told her, hoping he�d kept the passion from his voice.

�Oh,� was her response. She moved, sat up, saw her legs, blushed. �Sorry,� she mumbled on a laugh. She had gotten on feet before she noticed the plate and glass, giving them a pained look.

�Go to bed,� he said, standing. �I�ll take care of it.� Yes, get out of here, his mind agreed. Before I can get my hands on you.

He wished he could turn off the commentary in his head.

She might as well have ran, except that it would�ve required longer steps. She half-shuffled down the hall, keeping her thighs together as much as possible.

He wanted to swear, loudly. Curse the Gods, his own self-control, Suzaki, the tattoo itself -- everything. There was no way he were going to sleep tonight, not anymore. With barely-contained vehemence, he took the plate and glass to the kitchen. He knew he ought to wash them, but really, he didn�t give a damn about dirty dishes at the moment.

What did he give a damn about? Suzaki�s thighs. The taste, the feel, the sight. He grit his teeth, held his head, fought back a groan. These passionate thoughts had never hit him so hard before. Even after he�d as good as devoured her whole mouth, when the visions were strong and clear, it hadn�t been this bad. Or good, for that matter.

He tried to sift through his options. Most of them included Suzaki, naked or otherwise, and usually involved his bed. This time he did groan. And then he glared at his lower extremity, annoyed with the situation as a whole. Being hard wasn�t helping anything, not in the slightest. The most it could do was frustrate him further, reminding him of what he didn�t have -- likely couldn�t get.

That wasn�t true. There were dozens of women who still wanted him. He could easily pick one of them. . .

Except that he didn�t want to. And then it hit him, why he was losing his mind around Suzaki: because he hadn�t so much as masturbated in over a month. That was a hell of a backlog. Well, then, he�d have to see to that. . . And maybe after, he could control his own goddamn hormones.

The problem now was what he�d learned about her just now -- the tattoo. It plagued his visions of her, even before he�d so much as undone his pants. Those new visions in his head had her in a lot of sprawled positions, clearly showing the tattoo. It even had his mental focus, frustrating as much as it was satisfying.

Afterwards, he was laying back on his bed, staring at the white mess on his hand. A new thought had come to him, right at the end, and one he couldn�t shake from his mind. Because until now, he hadn�t actually imagined sex with her, just touches and kisses and imagining her naked before him. It had been the same with other girls, as well; just nude images. Until now.

He could clearly see himself entering her, could hear her welcoming moan. He imagined how she might feel, inside. How she might move beneath him. He could feel her cling to him with arms and legs.

It was almost scary, how many firsts he was experiencing with Suzaki.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Hatsu