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Koiuta, V.2	By : dragonslover1 Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1338 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: 'Naruto' is owned by Masashi Kishimoto. I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

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Koiuta, Love Song V.2

　

A Bond Forged

　

　

As soon as daylight was flowing through his window, Shino was up, excited for the day to a shameful degree. Because he had plans, details worked out, he didn�t want to linger. Still, he also didn�t want his clan looking at him funny again, so he strode out as if he just had someplace to be. Everyone probably already knew where he was going; he�d spent every day for the past week visiting Tasha at some point in the day, so they all knew he would be with her eventually.

Instead of going to her door, however, he went to her window, perched on a sill so narrow he had to use chakra to anchor himself in place. He didn�t see anything inside, but he also saw no evidence that she wasn�t here. The bathroom, maybe? He shoved the window open and strode inside, gazing around. �Tasha?� he called, listening for a response.

Nothing.

Frowning, he went to her closet, remembering how she�d placed her weapons here the day before. He intended to check to see if they were gone, suggesting she�d left already, but when he opened the door, he stilled. Tasha was on the top shelf, asleep. Her legs were drawn in, her arms a cradle for her head, her hair loose and spilling over her.

A wave of shame hit him at the sight, though it battled with how adorable she looked. He hadn�t considered getting her so much as a pillow or blanket. He could have kicked himself. Some boyfriend he was turning out to be.

�Tasha,� he said gently, running his hand over her arm, trying to rouse her without startling her.

Slow and easy, her eyes slid open, blinked, focused on him. Her brows drew together as she looked at him. �Don�t you know how to knock?� she slurred, her voice rough from sleep.

He made a mental note to always knock, whether on the door or the window. He answered, �No,� hoping to amuse her. Those blue eyes softened an increment, so he considered it a job well done. �Come on out of there,� he urged, drawing her arm out.

She resisted, twisting to her back and stretching in her little shelf. The sight of her back arching sent his mind spiraling back to yesterday evening, when he�d had her under him. Writhing. Pressing herself into the heat of his mouth. His blood quickened and he cursed himself, his anticipation to see her having made him forget his plan to take care of himself before coming to visit her.

When she twisted again, he witnessed what a flexible woman she was. Many ninja were, he knew, though not him so much. She all but leapt from the shelf feet-first, fully awake that quick. Her head turned left, then right, several of the joints popping. It made him wince, as though her stiff muscles were somehow his fault. Because she had no money, he reasoned, he would have to help her with that. Two options came to mind: invite her to live with him (an idea he much preferred, though his clan might protest) or help her furnish this apartment (the route he expected her to go).

She was brushing her fingers through her lengthy locks when he decided to wish her a good morning, starting by giving her a sweet, chaste kiss. Her actions paused at the press of his lips, and when he drew back, her eyes were swamped with warmth.

�Ohayou,� he said, hoping to diffuse any passion before it could lodge into place. A vain effort on his part.

With an expression of pain, she replied, �Ohayou.� He took it as her noticing his plot and not liking it. Then her fingers abandoned her hair to grip his coat. He liked that far more than he should. �Any particular reason you woke me up?� she asked. There was a lilt to her tone, he noted, a kind of tease.

Evidently the way they�d ended things last night had been as dissatisfying to her as it�d been to him. She clearly wanted more, her tone attempting to seduce him. Still, he clamped down on any reactions, answering, �I was planning on taking you to breakfast. Because you don�t have any other means of eating,� he added as if she�d needed the explanation.

She cocked one brow at him. �I know how to feed myself, Shino,� she told him.

Damn. There was that pride of hers again. �Let me rephrase,� he tried, and now he slid his arms around her, tugging her against him—
using her attraction to his advantage. �I would like to treat you to breakfast.�

She wavered at that, her fingers tugging his jacket this way and that. From the way she was looking at him now, she suspected what he was doing. Still, she replied, mischief in her eyes, �Are you asking me on a date, Shino?�

That single question made heat slither through him. Yes, he was, he realized. And he would continue to ask her on dates for as long as she let him. And maybe once more after that.

A sound plan. �Yes,� he answered.

The corner of her mouth lifted. It would have been shameful, how much that look affected him. . .if it weren�t so enthralling. That was his smile, after all. No one else could invoke it in her. �I would love a date,� she answered, her voice sweet. Too sweet.

He was stuck now. He�d promised breakfast, but he couldn�t move from this spot. Because of her voice or her smile or the feel of her in his grasp, or all of the above, he didn�t want to move to begin with. In fact, he caught himself lowering his head, hungry for another taste of her. He stopped himself, hesitated, saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes and decided she was going to regret laughing at him.

With on hand he yanked his collar down; with the other he pulled her to him so tight she was forced to stand on her toes. Then he slanted his mouth over hers, giving her a firm, almost rough kiss—
almost rough because he didn�t want to irritate her or harm her in any way. He just wanted to kiss her to the point where she started to tremble, then stop, proving a point to her.

Or so he lied to himself.

She kissed him right back without any hesitation, meeting the pressure of his lips and pushing back with as much force. Her fingers caught his jaw the way she�d done last night, holding him there, possessive and demanding.

Then her stomach grumbled and they both stilled.

Worry filtered through him. When was the last time she�d eaten? It couldn�t have been the lunch he�d bought for her. . .right? Sure, she had no money, but she knew how to forage. Didn�t she? She�d just said she knew how to feed herself. So. . .had she?

He drew back a few inches, saying, �Did you eat last night?�

Reluctance filtered through her gaze, but she answered, �No.�

Irritation welled up in him at that. He�d left her at dusk; she�d had hours to herself. What had she been doing in that time? �I thought you knew how to feed yourself,� he found himself snapping.

Her eyes narrowed on him in warning. �Careful, you,� she growled.

Great, now he�d offended her. But as her pride reared up, a stubbornness filled him. He wouldn�t back down. �Let�s get you fed,� he decided, taking a step towards her door, pulling her with him by her wrist.

She hissed in annoyance, resisting. �Hang on,� she told him, pulling back.

He kind of wanted to just toss her over his shoulder and just haul her to some stall or another. The thought was strangely tempting, too. He might do that someday just for the experience. She�d probably kick and bite, he mused, so he�d have to time it right.

With a swiftness suggesting a lifetime of practice, she tied her hair up, the motions putting it up in a ponytail, then looping the hair and wrapping the tie around it again, most of it up then. He�d been on the verge of asking her to let him help—
an act that would assuredly fill him with desire—
when she�d simply completed the task. Quick, efficient.

Clearing his throat, he said, �Now?� When she nodded, he couldn�t resist catching her wrist once more to lead her. As they left the building, she tugged on her hand to retrieve it, but he didn�t want to let go. His grip tightened a fraction, letting her know that he wasn�t about to set her free. He did, however, stop. �Where would you like to eat?� he asked her. Lady�s choice. He�d pointed out everything yesterday already, so she should have some ideas.

Her gaze snapped up to him, disbelief written across her features. It almost offended him. �Ohh, no,� she countered. �You know very well how I am about gifts. If you�re paying, then you�re picking.�

�Am I?� he returned. �Tasha, you�re my girlfriend,� he told her, �you should be taking advantage of me.�

At the word �girlfriend�, her eyes went huge, wider than he�d ever seen them. Heat flushed her cheeks. �I hadn�t thought of it like that,� she admitted. Her eyes skittered away—
annoying him—
and then she leaned against him.

He decided she was forgiven. He put an arm around her, not caring who might see. �So?� he prompted.

She shrugged, then seemed to collect herself, looking up at him again. �I�ve never been anywhere but that stall from yesterday,� she answered, �so I have no idea what�s good. Let�s compromise,� she offered. �This time, you pick. Next time, I push you around and make a fuss. The way girlfriends are supposed to do,� she added, her voice shaky at that one particular word.

He fought a grin, recalled no one would be seeing it, and let it spread. She�d said it herself, then, acknowledged his claim on her. And now he had the urge to walk around introducing her to everyone as �Tasha, my girlfriend�. Not that very many people would know who either of them were.

�Agreed,� he replied, a satisfaction to the word. �Because I need to narrow it down, is there anything in particular you�d like?�

She pondered that, eyes darting around the street. �Something sweet. Like a parfait,� she declared with dawning exuberance.

. . .A parfait? Alright, then. He knew just the place for that. �Very well. But are you so sure? There�s not much in a parfait,� he pointed out.

�Then I�ll eat two,� she answered smartly, smirking at him.

He caught himself staring at her mouth, analyzing that smile because it was new, a fourth smile. Humorous, teasing—
just for him as well, like the other? He hoped so. Absently, wanting to show her a measure of affection, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed. Her gaze on him turned impossibly soft.

Gods, that sent an ache through his chest. He didn�t understand that pang at all, wasn�t sure what it meant. So he placed their goal into focus: to feed her. And maybe later he�d even be able to convince her to let him stock her apartment, too. He expected a fight on that subject.

But it would so satisfying for him to do it. He�d have to find a way to persuade her.

Later.

For now, he led her to a particular restaurant, one of few he knew of which served a variety of breakfast items. Parfait was indeed on the menu, with any assortment of fruits and nuts available to fill it. As Tasha read the menu, he heard her swallow. Judging from the way she was staring at the words, her mouth was watering. Damn. He�d suspected she more than just liked fruits, but now he was getting the idea that she craved it. And sweets, too, he noted.

A waiter reached their table within minutes of perusing the menus, and Tasha leapt right to her order without waiting for a prompt. She really did order two, he heard, but while Shino was amused, the waiter paused in stun. He eyed Tasha once, then said, �You do realize you just ordered two, right?�

She arched a brow. �Yeah, so?�

�. . .So they�re kinda big,� he tried.

At that, she smirked, that playful one from earlier. �You doubt my power?� she challenged.

The young man chuckled, then shook his head. �No, never,� he answered, pen scratching down the details. When it was Shino�s turn, he just ordered a meal, including pancakes, eggs and a sliced orange—
but no meat. He didn�t like it.

Tasha picked up on that. As soon as the man left, she commented, �So. . .you don�t like meat either?�

�Noticed that, did you?� he replied, then nodded. �It has an unpleasant flavor.�

Her eyes said she was pleased with that comment. �Thought so. I noticed you never ate it, but I figured I didn�t have the right to ask.�

�Not that having a right to ask anything has stopped you before,� he pointed out.

Heat pinkened her cheeks. �Guilty,� she admitted. And embarrassed, he added for her.

That was another thing he found himself liking about her: her embarrassment. She wasn�t awkward very often, but he liked how she acted when she was. Her cheeks matched the hue of her lips when she blushed. For today, at least, he planned to embarrass her often, just to see that tinge as often as he could. Selfish of him? Yes. He didn�t care—
well, not much, anyway.

As usual with them, once they began talking, an ease descended. Whatever question came to mind was asked, and now that they were dating (inward smile) they had no reason not to answer. He kept his queries away from her past and Iwa in general, knowing they brought back memories and feelings she didn�t like, instead asking after things she enjoyed.

She liked music, she told him. Whatever was new and rhythmic. She mused that she would have to get a radio—
he decided he would be buying her one before the end of the day. With a bit more reluctance, she admitted that she probably would have been a musician, had she not been forced into the life of a ninja. When he asked her what instrument she would have chosen, she answered that flutes had always charmed her.

Maybe he would get her a flute, too, then.

For her part, she asked a wide range of questions, even delving a bit into his clan, like if they all had similar taste in attire. He told her what he could, though he also warned her that some things were sworn to secrecy he couldn�t break, even for her.

�Oh, I know,� she answered easily. �Don�t forget that I was in a clan once, too.�

When those words reached him, a part of him tensed, worried she�d fall in despair. But she didn�t. She commented and then moved on. He couldn�t imagine that she had already gotten over their betrayal of her, their attempts at retrieving and killing her, but she must have done so.

Once their food was devoured—
she really did finish both, but they weren�t nearly as big as the waiter had implied, making Shino think he just doubted a woman�s ability to eat; he docked the man�s tip for the assumption—
he paid and escorted Tasha outside.

Because he had no idea how to breach this subject gently, he caught her attention with a tug at her elbow and said, �I hope you won�t fight me on this, but I�d like to help you stock your apartment.�

An immediate fire burned in those blue eyes. Warning, he assumed. �Shino,� she began, �I�ll let you feed me all you like but I�m not going to—
�

�You don�t even have a bed,� he interrupted. �Was there toilet paper in the bathroom waiting for you?�

Silence. He could see her wavering and found himself praying she�d just give in. �No,� she admitted at last, �but I�m sure I�ll be getting missions soon. Hokage-sama has to know I need the money by now.�

Logical. But logic wasn�t going to defeat him. �Tasha, you owe me a favor, anything I ask,� he reminded her. She went still, her eyes hard, daring him to say it. He hesitated, not wanting to incite her further, then decided he could persuade her a different way.

Gentling his touch, he pulled lightly, saying, �Come with me.�

She resisted each tug, though he still gained ground, starting a slow pace to a more secluded area. After a few moments, when she concluded they weren�t heading for a store, she stopped fighting and strode alongside him. Gods, this plan was going to be hard on him. But what had to be done had to be done.

He led her into a series of trees, spacious enough to allow for sunlight to reach the grass but private enough to keep away any other citizens. Then he faced her, leaned down, fit his hands around the curve of her thighs and hauled her against him. She gave a startled gasp at the move, even as her legs linked around his waist, her hands sliding under his coat and settling on his shoulders. Skin to skin.

Keeping an arm around her hips, he tugged his collar open with the other, saw her eyes heat with desire. He had the idle thought that those eyes were going to kill him someday, and then he was kissing her, hungry and firm and demanding. She hummed in approval, fingers biting into his flesh. He kept up the pressure, even deepening the kiss to devour her mouth and the sweet, lingering flavor of her parfaits, until he had her breathing hard.

By then, he was breathing hard too, but he chose to overlook that fact. He drew back an increment and murmured, �Tasha, you�re mine now. . .my girlfriend,� he added, realizing a little too late that his words might not have the desired effect. �I want to spoil you,� he told her. �Will you let me do that?� He kissed her neck as incentive, sucking lightly at the skin.

She shivered, leaning into his mouth, a moan slipping through her lips. �I know what you�re doing,� she answered, then her breath caught as he moved on to suck at her pulse.

Unashamed of his methods, he replied, �Is it working?�

Another moan, this one almost a groan. �Yes,� she admitted. �Manipulative little. . .dork,� she finally said, clearly having a hard time being harsh with him.

He chuckled. That was the best she could do? He withdrew, showing her his pleased smile. �Good. Then my deal is this,� he told her before she could change her mind, �you�re going to let me buy whatever I like for you without complaint.�

The haze lifted from her gaze as he spoke, her senses settling back in. �Within reason,� she amended.

He nodded, giving her that one. �Deal.�

�Wait,� she added, leaning back a bit and eying him with suspicion. �When is this deal complete?�

He shrugged. �Whenever my desire to pamper you has ebbed.�

He could see that his words were affecting her, because pride was battling with something sweet and tender in her eyes. Slowly, gently, her lids drifted down, her gaze landing on his mouth. Yet before she could act, he saw a butterfly flitter into sight and land on her arm. The sight moved him somewhat, even sparked a hint of jealousy. Despite his love for insects, they rarely just came to him. He�d always had to lure them in, stalk them.

And then a butterfly just lands on her arm? Totally not fair.

She looked as startled as he was, lifting her elbow to look at it. �Butterfly,� she said in stun, blinking. Its wings flexed, blues and greens painting it with the occasional splash of yellow, the patterns outlined in wisps of black. Tasha reached for it with her free hand, coaxing it onto a finger. �Hello, beautiful,� she commented.

Though it shouldn�t have affected him to see her praising a butterfly, because pretty much all women loved butterflies, it did. She was being gentle with an insect, and regardless of the breed, he liked that. A lot. If she liked them so much, he thought, he might just go out and catch dozens of them and fill her apartment with them. They�d need fresh flowers, leaves, sticks and so on, but he could provide that, too.

Then the butterfly lifted from her finger and fluttered away. Tasha watched it for a moment after, and her wonder finally breached him as odd.

�Why do you look so surprised?� he asked.

Her eyes swung back over to him and she replied, �Butterflies are rare in Iwagakure. So rare that even seeing one is considered a sign of great luck,� she told him. Then, �Or great tragedy, depending on your point of view.�

�Tragedy?� he echoed. �Why would they be tragic?�

�Because they�re soft,� she answered him, �fragile, easy to kill. At the same time, a butterfly even living in Iwa suggested it�d been through a lot. Survived countless threats. So some people think that makes them all the stronger, more vibrant, I guess.�

With that explanation, he drew a connection between the butterfly and Tasha. This beauty in his arms had survived in Iwa, too, had survived escaping Iwa with ninja after her, out for her head. She didn�t seem to notice the similarities, but it reached him a way he couldn�t describe. Not with words, anyway. So he kissed her instead, and this kiss was full of affection, wonder, appreciation.

He kind of likened her to a butterfly anyway, and after those words the likeness increased. A sign of luck, was it? He could consider her a sign of luck. Strong, vibrant? She was those things, too. Such a butterfly would be a gift, should be treated as a treasure—
he treasured her. And the fact that she liked the butterflies, too? To him, in his mind, that was like her gazing at her own kind.

�Shino,� she purred against his lips. �What�s with you?� she wondered aloud. �You�ve never been this sweet.�

�Just thinking what a treasure you are,� he told her, honest. Heat deepened the color of her cheeks. He kissed her again in reward for that. Then, lingering over the kiss, he added, �. . .I should take you shopping before we get distracted.� Again. Warmth had already settled in his groin, demanding attention. If he kept this up too much longer, he would end up having to part from her just to prevent himself from ravishing her.

Which she would welcome, a part of his mind pointed out.

Shut up.

A gentle smile curved her lips. �Not just yet,� she answered, running her fingers over his cheek. �First, I want to. . .� She trailed off, embarrassed, then went ahead with her thoughts. Her fingers caught his goggles, and he let her tug them away from his eyes to settle them on his forehead protector. She looked so damn pleased to see his eyes, he decided to discard the eyewear more often.

Even if the light did make him wince.

�. . .That�s what you wanted?� he checked, his voice offering just a hint of a tease.

She pouted. �Yes.� Then she dove in again, giving him another of those sweet, seeking kisses.

He would never tire of the feel of her, the weight of her petite body, the smoothness of her skin that gave way into rough calluses upon her palms, the lush softness of her lips. And though he�d already considered her taste a sweet treat, it was all the more prominent after her particular breakfast, the flavors lingering.

But as more heat hit him, slithering through him as his need for her increased, he made the (horrible) decision to end it before it could get out of control. Yet when he pulled back, she followed, determined to have more. With regret and reluctance, he settled a hand above her heart to push her back. An instant pout formed in her expression, lips frowning and brows puckering. Adorable.

�Shopping,� he reminded her.

With a heavy sigh, as if she�d given a great concession, she unwound her legs from him. That might have been the greatest tragedy of the day, he thought dryly. After settling his goggles back into place, he took her hand, a move that earned him a surprised—
but awed—
look from her. He tossed her a grin, shameless and pleased, before he snapped his collar closed again.

Then began an. . .interesting. . .series of events.
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Koiuta, V.2