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On The Cusp	By : Okami-Rayne Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Shikamaru/Neji Views: 2208 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: NARUTO and its respective characters were created and are owned by Masashi Kishimoto. No copyright infringement intended. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
ON THE CUSP

by Okami Rayne

Chapter Twelve

Wrong…so wrong…

On so many levels, all of which were collapsing in his mind.

Stop. Think. Get a grip.

But Shikamaru was losing his grip one shudder at a time. His breaths struck the air in sharp, short bursts, following the rhythm his heart had thundered into. Neji's lips trailed up his neck, feathering warm, rough words he could barely catch above the hammer of his pulse.

"Shikamaru…"

The shadow-nin grit his teeth and tried to clamour for control. He felt the hot stroke of Neji's tongue across his throat. It might as well have been a blade severing his air-supply. The Jōnin's next words stole his ability to breathe at all.

"God knows I'm going to make you feel this…"

Just the rumble of that promise kicked up a storm inside him. Arousal ripped south through his body, shaking up blood, shattering control, pooling in a pillar of raging hardness between his legs.

It was too much, too strong, too sudden.

Too close…way too close…

Shikamaru's hands shot up and latched at Neji's hips, tugging forward then pushing back. He growled out a curse, confused and crazed. He felt wired up to some circuit he couldn't find the switches to. For all his rational ability to section off and shut down parts of his brain, his body refused to follow suit.

But then, hadn't that always been the danger?

Neji would walk in and Shikamaru's rational mind would walk out.

I can't fight this…

A screw of futile frustration and sadness tightened in his chest. He'd tried so damn hard over the past two weeks to get his head straight. And for what? Some fragile peace of mind? Just one encounter with Neji and this thing between them kicked him into a mindless, reckless, senseless mess.

It was as detrimental and dangerous as it had ever been.

And I still want you…so fucking much…

Want was a tame word, given the wild feeling howling around inside him.

He felt Neji's breath scatter across his neck. "Do you want to feel this, Shikamaru?"

"Yes…" he mouthed the confession wordlessly, unable to voice it, knowing he wouldn't be able to stop if he let those truths shudder out.

Besides, he was a self-proclaimed liar – wasn't he?

So lie…fuck just lie…lie…

He could manage that. Didn't even require his brain. Just one or two words.

But they wouldn't come.

Frustration welled up inside him, boiling into the need. It overwhelmed his ability to respond with anything another than a low groan. Damn, he'd never thought himself capable of being lured back into such explosive and irrational reactions. And yet here he was again, caught in a chemistry his brain and body weren't equipped to battle.

He was ready to combust from barely a touch.

Too close…

Shikamaru tore his hands away from Neji. He balled them into fists against the sheets until he felt pain flare. He tried to focus on his injury to distract from the palms skimming up the backs of his calves, talented fingers kneading deep, drawing his legs apart enough for Neji to shift a knee against the low mattress and lean in further.

"Just say the words, Shikamaru," Neji murmured, his tones deepening to that rough velvet texture that Shikamaru knew would damn him to the blackest pits of hell. "I'll make you burn so slow you'll scream for me to end it before I've even begun…"

The words shot straight to Shikamaru's core.

Desire swelled him hard enough to doubt he'd ever be soft again. The thick jut of his arousal rode high and heavy beneath the soft friction of the yukata, shaft pulsing, the moist crown leaking hot and wet.

Fuck…if he says another thing I'm gonna…lose it…

Shikamaru clamped down on a groan, lashes flickering over his glazed eyes.

Shit. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

He struggled to tame the crazy rush, startled by the thought that just Neji's voice reverberating across his skin would be enough to tip him over the edge. Right over the edge…into a fever that might never break, even if some other part of him did.

No…

He shook his head, gasping. "No."

Neji drew the lobe of Shikamaru's ear between his lips, eliciting a sharp hiss. "Are you running back into your mind, Nara?" Neji breathed, grazing his teeth over the sensitive shell. "Let me bring you back into your body. Look at me."

Shikamaru swallowed hard, his voice just a puff of breath. "No."

"No? Tell me you're not harder than steel right now," Neji murmured. "Tell me you're not dripping with want. Tell me you don't want me to make you burn from the inside out."

Shikamaru felt the hinges of his jaw creaking, the strain pulling across his face as he struggled not to react. God damn Neji's mouth: that low smooth voice which delivered words as erotic as his touches. They got under Shikamaru's skin like needles, so precisely honed they left his nerves tingling and screaming.

Fuck. This bastard is built for sin…

On cue, Shikamaru felt those mobile lips skimming down along his throat, following the strong curve of his shoulder, leaving a flush in the wake of feathering kisses.

"Lie to yourself, Nara." Neji dragged the words across the shadow-nin's skin "Your body won't lie to me."

"No," Shikamaru growled.

Neji sank his teeth into the nerve-filled junction of his shoulder.

Shikamaru arched with a ragged gasp, the sound catching in his throat, eyes squeezing shut. The flash of pain and pleasure stung like live ash, smouldering down into his blood, pulsing into the rigid flesh of his erection. He panted hard, the muscles of his stomach rippling, thighs trembling in an attempt to control the coil winding dangerously tight, aching to snap.

Holy SHIT!…Hold it…god…dammit…just breathe…breathe…breathe…

Shikamaru clenched his injured hand and let the spasm of pain pull him back from the edge. He mouthed a curse, feeling the warm roll and rub of Neji's tongue across his bruised skin, laving over the stinging mark.

"Well controlled, Shikamaru. Do you remember the night you let me brand and bruise you all the way to the brink?" Neji asked, fingertips coasting along the shadow-nin's legs, following the lean contours of thigh, kneading higher up until his hands inched under the yukata, rumpling and raising the fabric. "Even then, you didn't give yourself over…not completely…always slipping away like your shadows. I could never catch you."

No…

Shikamaru shook his head, the muscles in his legs and stomach jumping. But the dialogue in his mind refused to flow to his mouth.

You got one hell of a grip on me…you never let go…

His hips jolted when Neji's thumbs dug into the sensitive dip where groin met thigh. A roll of the Hyūga's wrists had the yukata parting. Crimson fabric slid aside in a rustle, baring Shikamaru in erotic and erect glory. The musky scent of arousal had Neji's nostrils flaring, a primal growl rolling low in his throat.

"As responsive as the last time I touched you…" Neji murmured, lips skimming a soft, lingering kiss across Shikamaru's furrowed brow, at odds with the harsh, possessive dig of his thumbs into the Nara's hipbones. "Tell me you want this and the burn I gave you then won't even take the edge off the one I'll give you now."

Oh fucking HELL…

Shikamaru groaned as pre-fluid seeped out of him, trickling its scalding cream along the straining shaft and prominent vein. He could feel Neji's eyes on him, making him impossibly harder.

"Ngh…s…shit…" he hissed through clenched teeth, struggling to breathe.

His legs began to tremble, the muscles in his arms drawn taut, fingers clenching into the sheets, tell-tale spasms shooting up and down his spine in incendiary sparks.

"Tell me, Shikamaru. Tell me what you want."

Shikamaru's lips parted, but his words died. Only the pant of his breath sounded, in and out in labouring gasps. God he was right at the brink already. Need danced through him like electricity, the static building around Neji's hands. And then Shikamaru registered it was chakra.

The...hell?

His glazed eyes shot open in shock when he felt Neji's thumbs brush the base of his erection. Chakra pulsed through the rigid flesh, closing tenketsu from root to tip, moving faster than the rush that followed behind.

Shikamaru stood no chance against it.

The climax hit him like a desert wind, ripping out of him in dry pulses.

HOLY…

He bucked hard, hips lifting upwards, throat locked around a cry.

FUCK!

Neji caught his bare hips, tugged him roughly to the edge of the futon and guided his pelvis into a slow roll that had Shikamaru riding out the bliss with every gyration.

"Ahn…ah…fuck…" he gasped, grabbing the Hyūga's wrists, arms shaking, chin dropping down to keep his head from tilting back.

"Look at me," Neji growled breathily, lips tracing the flushed angles of Shikamaru's face, kissing the crease between the Nara's brows. "Look at me. Look at me…"

No…

Shikamaru bowed his head again, breathless, boneless and already feeling a resurgent rush with every roll of his hips. Neji gripped him tighter, controlling the movement.

"Slow," the Hyūga whispered.

A feverish sensation swam around Shikamaru's mind, lapping at synapses, warping his perceptions into a haze. Even without the friction he craved the shadow-nin felt a powerful frisson building back up in his loins, causing his engorged flesh to twitch and jump.

"Ahn…" He arched into Neji's grip, head threatening to loll back.

"You feel that, don't you?" Neji coaxed, thumbs circling over Shikamaru's hipbones in time with his pelvic rolls. "This is what you do to me, Nara. Every time I'm near you…I burn…"

W-what…?

Shikamaru's lashes flickered open half-way, crescents of smouldering coal that stared glazed and unfocused from beneath heavy lids. He groaned, feeling Neji's hands massaging and pinching his skin, all the while guiding the erotic dance of his hips until the shadow-nin felt every pant mirrored by the soft smack of his arousal against his stomach, the slit leaking copious, pearly tears.

And then he felt it again.

A wild flutter tingled inside him, intensifying into anticipatory spasms and stiffening pressure, winding tighter…tighter…tighter…

His eyes widened.

He made the mistake of looking up. Their gazes locked and the raw want in Neji's eyes stroked over Shikamaru like a heat wave, intensified by the Hyūga's words wrapping hotter than a mouth around his dripping flesh.

"Burn for me…again and again…."

Shikamaru choked out a rough curse and turned his face away, every muscle stiffening in concert, fingers clawing up Neji's forearms, desperate for an anchor. He felt his head spinning, his thighs shaking.

Oh fuck, fuck, FUCK!

Neji jerked his hips with a savage growl. "Now."

The dry orgasm tore through Shikamaru like wildfire. It scorched over the previous one, the force of rapture eating up every cell. His vision flashed white and he threw his head back, baring his throat in a sleek, glistening arch.

"F-FUCK!" he keened from behind clenched teeth.

He felt Neji's mouth latch at his neck, teeth sinking in. The sharp sting had his hips lifting. He ground his slick erection against Neji's stomach, thrusting up as the Hyūga bit down on his throat, sucking hard. The pain turned the pleasure from burning white to blistering red.

Shikamaru's lips parted around a hoarse, strangled cry.

Neji growled lustily at the sound.

"God, come here," the Jōnin snarled.

His hands glided around the backs of Shikamaru's thighs until he gripped the firm backside, jerking Shikamaru off the futon and into his lap. Their chests crashed, punching out twin groans, knocking air from starving lungs.

Shikamaru barely had time to catch his breath or his balance.

He found his hips tugged forward and his torso bent backwards over the futon. His head and shoulders hit the edge of the low mattress while Neji knelt and crushed their hips together in a friction both sudden and severe.

"Fuck!" Shikamaru's thighs tightened around Neji's, his back bowing further.

He let out a moan so deep and guttural it rippled along the muscles of his stomach all the way up to the pulsing tendons in his throat.

"Yes," Neji breathed, snaking a hand along the Nara's stretched stomach, chasing the sound of his moan from origin to outlet, fingertips grazing the bared throat.

"Let it out," Neji growled. "I want to hear you."

Scrambling blindly, Shikamaru's hands anchored at Neji's hips, tugging the Hyūga into a wild, feverish rut. He thrust into every grind, unable to dictate the pace bent backwards like this. But damn if it didn't feel good. Thank god for flexibility. He could feel the pleasure running a helix up and down the backward curve of his spine, pooling in his groin.

"Fuck…y-you're…" he rasped, the words barely formed. "Mngh…you're…"

"I'm what?" Neji panted.

You're killing me…

Shikamaru choked on the words, his body undulating in a telling shudder. He tried his damnedest to fight back the building shivers and hold off the engulfing heat – afraid it might seriously stop his heart.

"Shit…Neji…"

Sensing Shikamaru dangling at the brink, Neji's hand pressed against his chest, keeping his body pinned in its bridge-like bow. "Let it take you, Shikamaru…let it come…let it come…"

Shikamaru bit down, expression twisting with pain and pleasure, too much sensation riding through him, threatening to tear him apart with the next explosion.

So…so close…

"Let it happen. It will feel so good."

Like a hypnotist's cue, those innocuous words bypassed Shikamaru's paralysed brain and fed straight into his unconscious. And from the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, it hit a trigger he didn't think existed anymore. Instantly, beyond the haze of need and lust he heard it, his own voice – though younger – cutting bluntly into his pleasure.

This is wrong.

He groaned, shaking his head deliriously, rocking into the rigid flesh he felt grinding back against his own; sweating, shaking, scaling higher.

No. This feels…so…right…so…fucking good…

The voice in his head grew in volume.

It's not right. It's not good.

And then one of the scars opened up in his mind, bleeding a dark, nauseating whisper through his head.

"It's gonna feel so good, Shika."

Shikamaru's eyes flashed wide.

A chilling dose of fear and disgust washed through him, flooding panic into his pleasure. Then the memory blanked out, leaving him with only the emotion. His stomach lurched, his breath cut off and he almost pulled back from the brink of release.

He didn't get the chance.

Neji's mouth latched onto his chest, jump-starting his heart.

Brutal, biting kisses tore from one pectoral to the other, a wet tongue lashing flat nipples into stinging nubs. Shikamaru gasped when teeth pinched down, tearing him out of his head and thrusting him headlong into blistering heat.

He slammed back into his body.

And then his body arched so violently he thought he'd break.

Pleasure broke over him instead.

Sweet and scorching.

It hit him so fast and took him so hard that the world white-washed into a blinding burst of flame. He slammed his head back against the sheets, vocal chords paralysed, screaming without a sound. His hips snapped up in Neji's lap, ribs heaving as he shot dry once more – over and over until the pleasure surged back on itself.

"Feel it," Neji purred, caging Shikamaru's hips in another iron grip, rolling the stiff flesh against the slow grind of his own. "Feel it…the way I never stop feeling you…"

Shikamaru didn't hear him. All thought was swamped by sensation – the sensation that his body was going to give out and he'd die here on the floor, bent backwards in bliss that began to build again.

AGAIN? God…wait…wait…

Delirious, Shikamaru barely felt Neji's hands dragging up under the trembling curve of his back, following the groove of his spine, tugging him upright again. The yukata slid off him completely. He collapsed forward, catching himself by gripping Neji's arms, shaking with the force of what had just crashed through him.

Neji's grip adjusted, bringing their naked groins together in a solid, single grind.

"Ah…" Shikamaru hissed, still harder than he could stand, right on the borderline between pleasure and pain. "W-wait…"

"Wait? It's far from over, Shikamaru."

Groaning, the shadow-nin dropped his head to Neji's shoulder and squeezed the Hyūga's arms in a plea he couldn't voice. His brain tripped over his words while his stomach tripped over the emotions racing wild and unchecked inside him.

Breathe…just…breathe…

The fear and disgust he'd felt so keenly were ashes under the embers of need. And Neji kept those embers burning with every brush of his lips and roll of his hips. Shikamaru had no words to describe the sensation, just sounds he was embarrassed to make. The ache in his groin built heavier, shook him harder, the exquisite need for a complete and uncontrolled release still denied by Neji's chakra.

Fucking…tantric…tenketsu…shit…mngh…

It was too much sensation, too much confusion, too much chaos – and what frightened him more than all this was how much he wanted it.

"Neji…" Shikamaru gasped, pressing the Jōnin's arms harder. "Stop…stop moving…give me a minute…"

Neji stifled a breathy chuckle, his infinite control belied by the violent beat of his heart and the strain in his breathing. Even so, he stilled the roll of his hips and set his mouth at Shikamaru's ear, mellow voice just above a whisper.

"Dreams don't feel this way, do they?"

No fantasy could capture what Shikamaru felt right now. His dreams were nothing but gossamer threads fraying at the seams. Reality laced raw into every fibre still vibrating within him, pulling at heartstrings so sore he could scarcely breathe.

"No..." he panted, pressing his lips to the crook of Neji's neck. "They don't."

He reached up to squeeze Neji's nape, trying to ground himself. He closed his eyes, dragging a slow breath through his nose. The scent of the Jōnin's skin pulled up the memories of the last time he'd tasted it. A hint of sandalwood and kunai oil, a faint tang of metal from the hitai-ate mixed in with the tantalising musk of sex and sweat and the memory of a salt stronger than both… the taste of tears.

Did I find you?

Shikamaru felt a roiling pain in his stomach, reaching higher to his chest then right up to his throat. He swallowed with difficultly.

Just once…did I find you…?

He tucked his arm around Neji's side and stroked his bandaged hand up fever-hot skin, feeling the muscles in the Jōnin's back shift and ripple beneath his touch. He traced the scars he'd felt in Hanegakure, the flaws and imperfections that made the marble of Neji's body reachable, touchable, human.

Real…

Shikamaru nuzzled the warm skin at Neji's throat, fighting back the memories beginning to stir with the embers.

Blood, bruises, a body barely breathing…

He pressed his mouth to Neji's shoulder with a rattled sigh.

"Shikamaru?" Neji murmured in his ear, turning to kiss his jaw.

Shikamaru slanted his face away from those lips, pulling back to smooth his hands up the hard planes and ridges of the Hyūga's chest, scowling at the half-hanging yukata.

"Take it off." He barely recognised the gravel in his voice. "Now."

Neji cocked his head at the command, taking note of the coarse tone.

A heartbeat of hesitation.

Then those pale shoulders dropped back, allowing Shikamaru to straighten up and hook his thumbs into the lopsided yukata, drawing it away. Neji knelt back, shrugged free of the robe and came forward again, reaching for Shikamaru's nape at the same moment the shadow-nin leaned in.

Their foreheads tapped.

Neji's headband fogged from the heat of their skin, the metal warming.

"Shikamaru…"

The Nara didn't look up.

His hooded eyes remained cast down, hands mapping out the powerful contours of Neji's torso, fingers moving in precise and methodical patterns. His touches followed the paths he'd memorized. The routes he'd charted between one bruise and another when Neji had been covered in them – black, brutal, vein-riddled contusions.

They were gone.

But the memories of them weren't.

Shikamaru remembered every mark. And he remembered every moment. Every agonising minute he'd spent tending to the damage when Neji had been comatose. He remembered it so keenly he could have mapped the marks out blind.

I can't forget you…and it's killing me…

He felt Neji's heartbeat beneath his palm.

But you survived…that's all that matters…

Shikamaru pressed his fingers again and again over the warm skin, rubbing the heel of his hand above the pounding heart. He felt Neji kneading his nape, loosening knots he didn't realise had begun to tighten there.

"Shikamaru…" Neji's other hand cupped his jaw. "Look at me…"

Shikamaru gritted his teeth.

He pressed his forehead against Neji's until he felt the Leaf emblem biting into his furrowed brow.

"Look at me…"

"I am looking at you," Shikamaru whispered back, brushing his thumbs over Neji's collarbones, squeezing the solid shoulders and bracing his hands either side of the Hyūga's neck. "Anyway…you hated when I did that."

"Because you saw me," Neji returned, his thumb settling at the corner of the shadow-nin's mouth. "So let me see you."

Shikamaru smirked bitterly, pulse quickening when the pad of Neji's thumb stroked across his bottom lip. "You're seeing me just fine."

Neji gripped his jaw, fingers biting into the hinges hard enough to hurt.

Shikamaru flinched and frowned, dark orbs flicking up.

His expression froze.

Silver-white eyes eclipsed his vision, the iridescent glow luring his gaze and holding it captive. His body went abruptly still. But inside, that inescapable gravity – defined by laws of need rather than nature – pulled between them.

Shikamaru's scowl dissolved, his resistance crumbling.

Neji's grip softened. Long elegant fingers traced over the bridge of Shikamaru's nose from one high cheek to the other, following the angles of his face.

They leaned in at the same time.

Open mouths bumped once, twin gasps snatching at the air. Shikamaru's tongue snaked out then curled back behind the clench of his teeth.

No…

A kiss would change everything.

"Stop me." He pulled in a ragged breath. "Stop me…"

Neji shushed him, fingertips ghosting over his mouth. "I know."

Shikamaru kissed the tips of those pale digits, leaned in to nudge noses. Together they turned their faces aside, avoiding that dangerous touch of lips.

But they didn't pull back.

Eyes closed while mouths opened against throats and shoulders, leaving wet trails on warm skin. Breaths deepened, heartbeats quickened. Their heads turned back and forth in a rough nuzzle, cheeks rubbing with an almost animal affection.

"Come here," Neji whispered, softer than the first time he'd snarled it.

His strong, sinewy hands curved around Shikamaru's hips, getting a solid grip on the sculpted buttocks, squeezing the tight flex of muscle. Shikamaru stiffened instinctively, taking a moment to relax into the touch, allowing his body to be pulled forward in a languid sway.

They pressed together again, slower this time, skin-on-skin without a stitch of material. Drawn back into Neji's lap, Shikamaru tensed the firm muscles of his legs around the smooth granite of the Hyūga's thighs. The pressure locked them together in that puzzle-piece perfection until the only breaks were the ones inside them.

Neji's mouth found his neck and Shikamaru's breath came harder.

"Shikamaru…" Neji breathed his name out like a prayer, damning them both.

I don't care…

And it didn't stop Shikamaru's hands from wandering the Jōnin's skin, following the slopes of shoulder-blades and the indentation of spine. He could wander this body for days with his hands, rediscovering deltas of flesh and depths of feeling that made every time the first time all over again.

I can't stop…

Shikamaru swallowed thickly, the intimacy of his thoughts beginning to startle him more than the intensity in his body. He shifted his hips and trapped their stirring lengths between bellies ridged with sculpted muscle. An experimental grind had them both groaning.

"Don't," Neji instructed, digging his fingers into each tensing glute when Shikamaru tried to take control of the pace. "Don't. I'll bring it to you."

Shikamaru panted a rough sigh through his nose, frowning in confusion and a hint of consternation. "What?"

"You don't need to lead this time, Shikamaru. You don't need to think about anything. All you need to do is feel." Neji kissed his throat, fingers squeezing with that skilled and knowing pressure. "Relax and let me lead."

Lead…

Shikamaru blinked heavily, the word rolling around through the haze in his brain. A strange discomfort knotted in his stomach. If his logic had been operating, he'd have analysed the cold rock in his gut and diagnosed it as nervousness.

Lead…?

He'd always been the one to lead in the past. Neji had been too controlled, too busy trying to cut himself off and keep himself cold. It had been instinctive for Shikamaru to seek him out, chase him down and lead him back.

Lead…

Shikamaru frowned harder, struggling to hold onto the thought, an increasingly difficult task with Neji's hot mouth and massaging hands working him into a fever. The Hyūga could stop his brain faster than a blackout – excluding Hyūga headbutts. And that knowledge caused the discomfort in his stomach to twist tighter.

Stupid…

It didn't make sense. Neji wasn't trying to attack him. And given what he'd done to Neji's control and the icy defences he'd managed to slip past, wasn't it only fair that he give up a little control in return?

That was never about control.

Of all the things he'd wanted to do to Neji and take from him, control had never been one of them. The only things he'd ever wanted to take away from Neji had been the Hyūga's pain, his suicidal goal and the ghosts from his past. He'd taken only what Neji had let him take; and only when Neji had let him in. He hadn't forced entry without leaving an exit. All that made sense in his head, but it failed to explain the cold feeling that came from letting the Hyūga take over…

"You have the audacity to come at me and dare get angry when I come at you?"

Shikamaru's eyes flickered open at the memory of Neji's words, his glazed orbs gaining an edge of bleary focus.

Angry…?

Was there truth in that accusation?

I'm not angry…am I?

Surely it was just anxiety. Anxiety that came from not knowing all the options and not being able to affect the outcomes; because the outcomes of being in such a vulnerable position were never predictable. Just like the one night in Hanegakure that he'd let Neji roll him onto his back and take control the way the Jōnin needed to. Shikamaru had allowed it because the Hyūga had touched him without pushing boundaries Neji didn't even know existed…and at the time it had felt right…it had felt good…

It's not right. It's not good.

The toneless, long-buried words struck him cold again – like a zombie hand thrust out from a grave, gripping his insides and clutching hard.

It's not real…

Shikamaru jumped when he felt a sudden pull on his scalp, followed by the fall of his hair from its bind. The thick, inky shards hit his back, brushing his shoulders and framing his jaw in their uneven cut.

"Back in your head again, aren't you? Kami, you're a challenge, Nara." Neji's fingers brushed affectionately through the jagged strands.

Shikamaru stiffened marginally. "Don't."

Neji paused, as if considering, then repeated the soothing stroke of his fingers. "You were always reluctant to have your hair down. Why?"

Shikamaru sneered, that cold nervousness souring into nausea. "I don't like it."

"Why?"

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed, disguising the discomfort in his gaze with irritation. The truth almost betrayed itself, boiling up in the back of Shikamaru's brain with all the other poisonous, banished thoughts. Rather than lace his tongue with honesty, he let the sarcastic venom fly.

"Take off your hitai-ate," he drawled scathingly. "Let's have a pissing competition over whose head is more fucked up."

The second he spat it he wished he hadn't.

Neji's fingers stilled. His face became unreadable, white eyes gazing intently.

Shit.

Shikamaru frowned and made to pull away. He didn't get very far. The fingers in his hair speared back through the choppy strands, getting a solid grip. A harsh yank jerked his head back, baring his throat.

Shikamaru let out a surprised yelp. "The fuck!"

A scalding tongue dragged across his throat right up to his jawline, nipping hard. The actions stunned Shikamaru into stillness, his brain scrambling wildly while Neji took advantage of his shock. The Hyūga's mouth followed the tense slant of jaw, teeth pinching a studded ear, tongue flicking the metal ball.

"Now why would such a harmless thing leave you feeling so exposed?" He paused, his voice falling softer as he added: "And so bitter?"

Panic fluttered in Shikamaru's stomach.

Rather than respond, he wrapped his injured hand into the rich mocha of Neji's hair, twining it like a silk rope around his wrist. One violent tug tore those lips away from his ear, settling their snarling mouths dangerously close.

"Don't go there with me," Shikamaru growled. "You'll lose."

Neji arched a brow. "There's only one thing I have left to lose."

"Says the Hyūga who 'never loses'."

"To the Nara who's already lost," Neji uttered.

Shikamaru hesitated, his eyes pinching. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Neji studied him for a moment, slivers of opal glinting beneath his lashes. "For all the things those sharp eyes of yours see, Shikamaru, there is one thing that I will always see clearer than you."

Shikamaru snorted, eyebrow cutting up in a scathing slice. But a wary flicker chased across his face. Neji must have sensed it, because the Hyūga's lip twitched in a grim smirk that didn't reach his eyes.

"Chakra," Neji said.

Shikamaru frowned at the blunt and obvious truth, but his sarcastic reply was cut short by a sudden and very genuine confusion. "I haven't lost my chakra."

"No, but you've lost control of it," Neji returned calmly. "I doubt you're even aware of what's happening with it right now."

What?

Shikamaru's gut dropped and his mind raced with the implications of those words. Rather than leave himself open, his automatic defence kicked in and he smirked bitterly.

"That's kind of rich isn't it? Coming from the guy who lived under a delusion that he had an unlimited supply," he snapped, wincing inwardly at the caustic bite in his words. "Don't exactly trust your judgement on that one, Neji, so spare me the highhanded Hyūga bullshit. Play a better card."

Neji's jaw tightened to the likeness of rock.

Shikamaru didn't even bother chalking himself up a point. He wasn't enjoying this one bit. He wasn't mean by nature, but when it came to defending himself his razor mouth and mind were his best weapons.

What the hell is he talking about? My chakra's fine...It's just low from training and crappy recuperation...

Without warning, Neji twisted his wrist, the movement putting pressure on Shikamaru's neck, forcing his head to a slant. Snapping back from himself, Shikamaru growled, giving a savage tug on Neji's mane to even the power score and level their faces again.

Opal irises glinted warningly, locked onto onyx slits glaring back.

The deadlock held.

A cage of angry tension slammed around them.

Rain spat against the windows, hissing off the panes.

Fingers tightened and arms flexed, necks arching. Neither let go; both shinobi leashed by the grip they had on each other, reining in each other's violence. Shikamaru's jaw tightened, primal aggression and adrenaline bleeding into arousal, warring with dominance and desire and something he didn't want to face.

Neji let out a slow breath through his nose, speaking quietly into the charged air. "You can't live within your stratagems, Shikamaru. You can't reduce everything to a game."

The 'game' barb stung right on target and the pain flashed once in Shikamaru's eyes, gone faster than a lightning flicker. "Can't I?" he uttered, his voice flat, emotionless in a way he almost didn't recognise. "Keeps it interesting."

Neji frowned, but it wasn't anger in his face. "But not real. You can't hide behind your lies, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru snorted. "Pot, kettle, black. Make a stupid simple idiom with those words, Hyūga."

Neji's jaw ticked but his expression didn't change. "Even if I had been fooling myself with regards to my limits, I never considered myself to be living a lie."

"Yeah, you're waiting for a real mask before you start doing that."

Neji ignored the bait he'd once have taken hook, line and sinker. "You saw for yourself what was real. You saw what my denial – what my lie – almost cost me."

"Tch. Is this gonna be a veteran speech, Hyūga?" Shikamaru riled, his tongue lashing faster than his brain could intervene, trying desperately to keep Neji at bay. "Spare me your hindsight. I don't need it. I've been doing just fine for two years."

Neji's brow furrowed, eyes rounding. "Two years…?"

Fuck. Well played, genius.

Shikamaru clenched his jaw, teeth grinding until the enamel audibly creaked. For a long moment Neji just stared, scanning his face in narrow-eyed scrutiny. Shikamaru glared back, but it was weak. The fight seemed to have drained out of him like the colour from his face. Even without his clothes, he felt naked in a way that went way beyond skin and muscle and bone. The panic in his gut fluttered again, the tension shooting straight to his legs: the instinctive urge to get up and run.

Neji's eyes softened a little.

Shikamaru felt the Hyūga's grip on his hair slackening.

This was the chance. The opening. The time to get up and get the hell out. His thighs tightened around Neji's, everything in him primed to bolt. Until the Hyūga's fingers combed a soothing touch through his hair and caressed his head softly.

"Two years…" Neji said softly, cautiously – without pressure, without pushing.

Shikamaru's panic was whipped away by his relief, lost like smoke on a wind of exhaustion. He sloughed out a weary sigh, shaking his head.

"It's buried. It's nothing."

Nothing I can't forget all over again.

He knew he could do it. Whatever ghosts were haunting his head just needed to be cast back into the shadows of his subconscious. That's where the past belonged.

I know I can do that.

The fear left his eyes, leaving them guarded and uncertain. He waited to see whether Neji would push for answers in the same way he'd done with the Hyūga weeks ago.

The Jōnin didn't.

Neji just gazed quietly.

Shikamaru took it as a chance to let the topic slide. He released Neji's hair, felt the silk of it slip through his fingers, hating the sense of loss that came from something so inconsequential.

"It's nothing," he said again, softer.

Neji watched him for a long moment, until the hand caressing Shikamaru's head slipped around to touch the shadow-nin's face. Pale fingers traced the dark rings under his eyes.

Shikamaru blinked slowly and forced a wavering smirk.

"Crappy clockwork," he drawled. "Better start taking those narcoleptic naps."

Neji didn't smile at the intended humour, but blinked to acknowledge the words. He continued to trace out Shikamaru's features, eventually reaching up with both hands to card his fingers back through the thick choppy hair.

For a second, Shikamaru wondered at the action, tried to gauge whether it was done to provoke him into a reaction. But there was something in the touch, some unspoken communication that put the shadow-nin at ease: I don't want to fight.

Shikamaru's expression gentled.

He was sick of the cruel words. Exhausted by the force of his anger.

I don't want to fight either...

Neji read the thought in his expression and nodded, working pale fingers back through Shikamaru's hair.

The shadow-nin's eyes shuttered and he let his head tilt back into the soothing touch, the skin of his scalp tingling and tightening. "Mmn."

Neji did smile then, the barest twitch to the left of his mouth.

Spying the faint smile, Shikamaru's lidded gaze dropped down. He studied the shape of Neji's lips, the sensual fullness of the bottom swell, recalling the way that mouth looked when parted and kiss-swollen.

No.

Shikamaru pressed his eyes shut, resisting the overwhelming urge to lean down and take those lips beneath his. Instead, he focused on the drag of Neji's fingers through his hair, skin prickling at the firm rake against his scalp. The tension in his temples flared then ebbed, the knots of pain that had long set up residence in his skull beginning to melt away.

He hadn't expected that.

But then, it's not like he'd ever allowed this.

Even his teammates knew that he hated his hair being handled. Yet here Neji was, combing long fingers through it and rubbing his scalp into a pleasant hum. It should have been pushing all sorts of buttons.

But the aggression and discomfort didn't come.

Why?

Shikamaru tried to frown and failed. His face seemed incapable of holding any tension, the little tingles from his scalp carrying down his spine in a shiver.

"You like this," Neji observed, his voice low and soft – just short of a question.

Shikamaru pressed into the rub of Neji's fingers, rolling his head to one side. "Hn. You think?"

"I do…" Neji quipped and the shadow-nin rewarded him with a small, lazy smile.

The next rake of Neji's fingers reached further, following the sleek shards of hair around to the back of Shikamaru's skull, finding pressure points with enviable ease. Pleasure orbited the Nara's head in pulses, punctuated with occasional stabs of pain.

"Does this hurt?" Neji asked.

I don't care…

The pain was tolerable. He understood it, given the constant ache that hung around his brain. He shook his head and bit down on a groan when Neji's fingers carved upwards, clawing along his scalp, tangling in midnight-black strands, kneading hard.

"Shit," Shikamaru hissed, his shoulders dropping back, neck craning into the firmer touch, bracing a hand at Neji's shoulder. "Harder…"

"Careful," Neji murmured. "I'm near pressure points."

I really don't care…

Maybe the pain would be a blessing. He wanted those fingers to hit those points, hell, switch them off completely. He needed those fingers to dig deeper, exert pressure severe enough to crack open the cage of tension encasing his head. Something to crush the thoughts, to make it all easier, make it all go away, make it all shut up, make it all—

"Stop," he whispered, the broken word slipping out unbidden.

The press of Neji's fingers ceased. Warm palms cupped the back of Shikamaru's head to tip his face down. Frowning at the abrupt halt to the massage his dark eyes fluttered open to half-mast, a hum of query catching in his throat.

Neji levelled him with a strange, searching look.

Confused, Shikamaru cocked his head, not understanding. "What?" he husked, not sure he wanted to know.

No response.

Instead, something more devastating than an answer.

An action.

Neji framed Shikamaru's head between his palms, tilted the Nara's brow down and pressed a kiss to his forehead…and then to his left temple, following across to the right, turning Shikamaru's face this way and that to skim his lips over every sculpted angle.

He'd done this before – once before.

Shikamaru remembered it as clearly as every other memory emblazoned in his mind. It was a moment carved into his heart, cut into him with that jagged blade of need. The same need lodging it's blade into his windpipe. The same need slicing through every knot of complicated emotion right to the root of the simple truth he couldn't speak.

So lie…

He worked his throat, the pain tantamount to swallowing a lump of burning coal.

"Lie…"

Neji raised his head a scant inch and looked into Shikamaru's eyes, threading his fingers through the shadow-nin's hair to hold it away from his face. "Lie?"

"Whatever truths I…" he cut off tightly, clearing his throat to try again, his normally smoky tones shrivelled to ash. "Whatever truths I twist…whatever lies I live...I do it…'cause I need something to make it easier…just for a while…two weeks…another two years…whatever it takes…"

Neji blinked, drawing back a little more, searching Shikamaru's face.

"Do you want me to lie to you, Shikamaru?" he asked softly.

Shikamaru closed his eyes. "Yeah."

Please.

Neji said nothing.

Shikamaru felt that knifing pain in his throat sink lower, heading straight for the vital organ beating hard in his chest.

And then Neji's hips began to move.

Shikamaru's breath caught.

"I don't want you," Neji whispered, dragging his fingers back and forth across Shikamaru's scalp in a rhythm that matched the rock of his hips. "I stopped wanting you the day I walked away."

The words dripped like acid into Shikamaru's mind, burning into his heart, stinging the backs of his eyes. All because they were impossible to believe. Twisted truths really weren't lies at all. Not the kind of lies he needed – not the kind of lies he knew Neji would ever give.

Damn you, Neji…damn us both…

Lies were supposed to make it right. Lies were supposed to sear over the past and bleach the memory. Lies were supposed to erase it, wipe it clean, corrode everything into a dust he could finally brush off his heart.

There was just one problem.

We could never lie about this…

And even if Shikamaru had pretended to believe the whispered lies, their bodies screamed the truth.

"I don't think about you," Neji crooned, knotting his fingers into sable hair, tugging to open up Shikamaru's throat to his mouth. "I don't think about tasting you…"

Neji's tongue dragged up his neck and Shikamaru's blood sang and sighed and surged arousal through him in warm laps.

"I don't think about finding you…" Neji's hands swept down Shikamaru's body and gripped the backs of his thighs. "I don't think about throwing you down."

He lifted forwards, toppling the shadow-nin down onto the futon. Shikamaru's back barely hit the sheets before Neji's thigh dragged across his hips and rubbed along the hardening flesh between his legs.

Shikamaru's eyes rolled back and his hips rolled up.

Neji straddled him, gazing down through opal eyes alive with flame – flames that licked Shikamaru's skin into a glistening flush, reaching deeper than the Byakugan's penetrating gaze ever could.

"I don't think about seeing you…" Neji panted, his voice growing hoarser. "I don't dream about your face…I'm not haunted by your words…"

Stop…

Shikamaru bit down hard, throat tight, body shaken up with need so intense he couldn't risk opening his mouth without the truth spilling out like blood from the breaks inside him. God, at least blood would wash away, but the truth would leave a stain he could never erase.

I can't…

Neji cocked his head to one side and his expression grew serious and intense. Those glowing eyes roamed Shikamaru's body again, slower this time, the raging storm of desire curbed by something else in his gaze that Shikamaru couldn't place and suddenly didn't want to see.

Don't look at me like that…fuck, please…

Shikamaru closed his eyes, turned his head to the side to snatch air.

He felt Neji's knuckle hook beneath his jaw, turning his head back as the Hyūga leaned down. "I don't think about taking you…"

Shikamaru's body tightened at those words. Neji felt it and rolled his hips down in a fierce grind. It crushed every molecule of tension in Shikamaru's body into dust. He shuddered, dark lashes flickering as his eyes rolled beneath closed lids.

Neji's breath danced across his lips. "I don't want to bury myself inside you and leave a burn so deep that you'll never stop feeling me…"

A ragged groan caught in Shikamaru's throat, eyes squeezing tighter. "Neji…"

"I don't think about any of these things, Shikamaru…" Neji shifted to blanket himself across the shadow-nin's body in one smooth, sensual caress. He leaned on one elbow and with his other hand stroked strands of black away from Shikamaru's face.

"Because just like you," he whispered. "I don't need this either."

Shikamaru went very still – still as the breath that died on his lips.

And then he opened his eyes.

Their gazes caught and held.

Thunder rumbled overhead, the wash of rain against the window pounding harder.

None of it mattered.

What mattered was glistening obsidian boring into pools of clouded opal. Black and white locked in a shade of grey emotion...emotion that passed like smoke across the fire in their eyes. Signals carried in that smoke and they read each other wordlessly.

The air shivered between them. They were sharing the same breaths.

After a small eternity, Neji stroked his knuckles across Shikamaru's high-boned cheek, tracing over the faded scar. The regret in his eyes was a shadow. Shikamaru recognised this shadow in an instant and he moved to take it away from Neji. He shook his head, communicating what he knew the Jōnin would understand: don't be sorry.

Neji offered no objection or acceptance.

Instead, he knelt back and reached up to hook his thumb into his hitai-ate.

Shikamaru followed the movement, his eyes widening.

Neji slipped his thumb under the black fabric, followed it around under the fall of his hair and worked the knot. The hitai-ate dropped onto Shikamaru's stomach, the metal cold against his flushed skin.

His gaze fastened on the curse mark.

Without a word the shadow-nin pulled an arm back to rest on one elbow, reaching up with his other hand. Neji leaned down at the silent call. Shikamaru cupped the back of his head and drew the branded brow to his mouth.

He kissed the seal. A chaste press of his lips. "Neji…"

Neji pulled in a sharp breath and exhaled shakily. The naked vulnerability in the sound gripped Shikamaru's heart and squeezed mercilessly. He let his fingers steal down to Neji's nape, rubbing circles with his thumb, dropping kisses softly against the Jōnin's forehead.

The tenderness felt instinctive, essential and inescapable.

Shikamaru didn't question it; and for the first time that night, he let it take precedence over the fear.

Just this once…

Neji knelt in silence, bowed like a man at prayer. His palms coasted down Shikamaru's sides, fingers fanning wide, flowing downward to sharp hips then back up again. Confessions spilled into touches. He lingered at Shikamaru's ribs and stroked the scars there, letting the Nara kiss the marked skin of his brow and trace out the etched lines of the symbol with his lips.

Shikamaru's breath shivered out. "Neji..."

The Hyūga tilted his jaw up.

Olive fingers ran through the dark chestnut bangs framing Neji's face, stroking them back from the crafted features. Shikamaru pressed a parting kiss to the curse mark and let his lips skim down Neji's nose until their mouths hovered close.

Breaths halved and heartbeats doubled.

Lightning flickered, turning the rain into silver ribbons against the glass.

Neji spoke then, his voice half whisper, half rasp – faint as a dream. "If our fates are fixed in this, then why are we always in pieces?"

Shikamaru's eyes stung, forcing him to pull in a watery breath. "Makes us easier to move around?" he croaked, his voice crumbling so painfully around joke he had to close his eyes.

Neji smiled gently, the soft, sad curve of his mouth settling above the shadow-nin's in a ghosting kiss. It branded Shikamaru's lips like fire, stirring his tongue into a wet flame.

Stop me…fuck, please…

His lips parted but Neji drew back before he could angle his head to deepen the contact. Shikamaru silently thanked him. It saved them from that beautiful damnation he couldn't and wouldn't have stopped.

But Neji's control was the blessing before a stronger burn.

His palm flattened against Shikamaru's chest, above the throbbing heart.

Shikamaru flinched, not in pain, but from the feeling of warmth emanating from Neji's hand. He wondered briefly if it was chakra, but doubted it.

Truth to tell, it felt like Neji was pulling the warmth up from out of him.

Neji blinked once then knelt up and pressed down on Shikamaru's chest, prompting the shadow-nin to rest back on both his elbows, dark eyes watching through a screen of damp lashes. He blinked back the sting, not wanting to blur the chiselled lines of Neji's face. He'd always lose that focus in his dreams, forced to watch it all melt away.

Dreams turned to dust, every time.

Stop…

As if sensing his thoughts, Neji shook his head, drawing Shikamaru's eyes to his. With a deep, throaty hum he stroked warm, rough palms up along Shikamaru's legs, parting them with a downward glide along the roped muscles of the shadow-nin's inner thighs.

Shikamaru's breath fluttered in his throat. "Neji."

"I know," Neji murmured, rubbing Shikamaru's thighs, drawing them further apart with every press of his fingers. "Trust me."

Shikamaru tensed and the muscles in his torso stood out in stark relief.

The reaction prompted Neji to change the pace, the cadence of his breath changing in tandem. He worked his hands slower, but firmer, until the tension in the shadow-nin's muscles began to tremble and tingle.

Shikamaru shuddered at the sensation, digging his elbows into the mattress.

Neji's palms moved like magnets along his skin, drawing up the embers in his blood like iron filings to the surface, flushing his body into a fine sheen. Only this time, Shikamaru knew it wasn't Neji's chakra.

"Mngh…" He fisted his fingers in the sheets, head dropping forward a little. "Neji…"

"That's right." He felt Neji's hands hook behind his knees and draw them far enough apart for the Jōnin to settle their hips flush together. "Just feel."

Shikamaru hissed, the delicious sensation wringing a quiet, breathy moan from low in his throat. He swallowed it back, gritting his teeth at the embarrassing sound.

Neji's lashes dropped to half-mast. "Shikamaru…" he purred the name, let the syllables melt on his tongue.

Shikamaru's body responded like a charmed serpent, undulating once, rocking into the achingly slow friction that Neji's hips set. The rhythm was torture – sweet, aching torture.

"Yes..." Shikamaru whispered, delighting in the slow burn that forced him to feel every shift in degree, raising the bar on his awareness, rooting him into his body like nothing else. "How do you...mngh...know..."

"Your body tells me," Neji answered, keeping up the rhythm, somehow managing to make the friction rise with only the barest shift in angle and pressure, sliding and grinding their arousals together.

Yes...god...yes...

Shikamaru felt that liquid burn pooling its lava deep in his belly, pulsing thick and warm into his stiffening flesh. He felt Neji's answering arousal, solid and smooth as marble, gliding their slick erections with every rub, smearing the warm, salty musk welling at the thick tips.

Oh…fuck…

Shikamaru felt pain biting into his shoulders and spine, screaming at him to abandon his propped position and just lay back, give in, relax into the rapture.

No…Not like that…

Shikamaru shook his head. Bracing himself on one elbow he hooked his other arm around Neji's back for support, gripping the sharp jut of shifting shoulder blade, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise.

Neji arched into the touch, his dark mane sliding and rippling across the shifting contours of his back, a deep panther-like purr thrilling low in his throat.

"Shikamaru…" he growled, reaching between their rolling hips to wrap his fingers around the thick base of the shadow-nin's arousal, stroking upwards in a slow twist, squeezing in a corkscrew turn about the wet, velvet crown.

Shikamaru cried out and panted against the crook of Neji's neck, his face contorting in an expression of pleasure and pain. He felt his spine tightening, the ache in his loins building, pre-fluid leaking in warm streams over Neji's fingers.

"Nnh…Neji…"

"Do you want more, Shikamaru?"

Fuck…yes…

He shook his head, brain struggling to follow questions and commands. He almost lost his head completely when a slow stroke and twist of Neji's hand crushed both their erections together, turning his mind to magma.

Holy…god...

Shikamaru's lips curled back against Neji's shoulder, snarling in primal want, blunt nails digging in at the Hyūga's shoulder blade, his other arm shaking under the strain of supporting him.

"Do you want me to taste you, Shikamaru?" Neji crooned, the cultured silk of his voice husky and hot. "To feel that fire of yours on my tongue?"

The words set off vibrations that rolled through Shikamaru like an earth tremor, threatening to shake the foundations of rules and safety zones the shadow-nin had concreted into his unconscious. Boundaries, lines, rules of logic that would keep the board of his body together so he didn't lose the pieces he could never get back if he let them fall.

Fall…fuck…I always…fall into…you…

Gloved in the rough warmth of Neji's palm, Shikamaru's chest heaved and strained with every pant, the rapture clawing through his limbs, leaving him raw and reactive, riddled with a mass of livewires in place of arteries and veins. And then Neji's thumb sawed through his weeping slit, rubbing hard under the sensitive delta of the flared head.

FUCK!

Shikamaru threw his head back, a strangled shout cutting off behind his teeth, trembling hard, right on the verge of release. But Neji's hand slid down and gripped him at his aching base until the spasms subsided.

"God dammit…" Shikamaru slurred breathlessly, his elbow starting to slide. He locked his arm, struggling to breathe and remain balanced. "Neji…fuck…more..."

"Do you want me deeper?" Neji breathed the words against Shikamaru's temple, nuzzling shards of dark hair aside to set his lips at the shadow-nin's ear. "Do you want to feel me inside you?"

Shikamaru stiffened, biting out a single word. "No…"

Neji went still for a moment, his hand still encircling the base of the granite column jutting up from Shikamaru's hips. The absence of movement might have alarmed Shikamaru if his heart wasn't racing and the fever wasn't flowing faster and growing fiercer – it flooded hot words to his mouth that spilled out in a rush.

"Don't stop…god…don't stop..."

"I never did," Neji breathed back, the tender words lost on Shikamaru.

All the shadow-nin heard was the jackhammer of his heart. He felt a soft kiss against his temple and a slow, slippery stroke of Neji's hand dragging up his length from the heavy root to seeping tip. Then that divine grip fell away, replaced by the hard thrust of Neji's arousal rubbing them together in a slick glide.

"Move with me, Shikamaru…"

"Yes…" he hissed, grinding back, head dropping forward onto Neji's shoulder, his embracing arm tightening like a vice. "Fuck..."

Shikamaru barely felt Neji reaching for his right leg, lifting the tense and shaking limb. His knee was hooked over the Jōnin's hip, winding to lock in a brutal cinch. He felt Neji roll them onto their sides, facing each other, holding Shikamaru's leg draped over his hip.

"Look at me," Neji panted against his lips.

Shikamaru's lashes flickered open half-way.

Raw, naked need smouldered in the burnt coal of his eyes, reflected back and roiling wild in the pewter pools gazing back at him.

"I want to watch you burn, Shikamaru," Neji purred, fingers dragging up the back of Shikamaru thigh to his buttock, tugging the Nara closer until their hips meshed into an almost painful friction. "You won't deny me that."

The same need in Shikamaru's eyes etched itself into the carved angles of Neji's face – an exquisite, erotic sensuality that ripped away the cool, ethereal mask the Hyūga used to cloak this raw, animalistic passion.

This human hunger to feel fire in all the places he kept himself cold.

"I'm tired of this cold…"

Shikamaru's heart swelled.

He gulped a breath, tried to punch back against the fist of emotions clenching inside him, all of them bleeding into the desire, making it burn brighter and hotter, a glowing-white nova building in his core.

His eyes widened, alarm spiking through him.

It's too strong…

"Let it come…" Neji coaxed, his hand dipping around to the base of Shikamaru's spine, pulling him harder into the grind of their hips.

Shikamaru began to shake, his leg tensing around Neji. "C…close…"

"I know. Don't close your eyes," Neji whispered, his voice noticeably hoarse, growing breathless with every staggered pant. "Look at me."

Shikamaru forced his heavy lids to lift, gazing back, intense and aroused and unable to withhold the aching emotion breaking through his stare.

"Neji…" he whispered.

Neji swallowed, looking pained before he reached up with his free hand, raked it back through Shikamaru's hair, caressing his head, hips rolling in a rhythm steady as a tide, pulling Shikamaru out into a scorching sea. The shadow-nin could feel himself drowning, resistance going under, the waves building, a tsunami of heat cresting inside him…climbing…climbing…

Neji's lips settled above his, breathing words into his panting mouth. "Burn for me, Shikamaru."

The words were his freefall, straight into the fire.

Shikamaru's eyes lost focus, his body stiffened, breath cutting off.

"Neji…" he whispered – right before it struck.

Ecstasy exploded through him, detonating in every cell, erupting outwards in a brilliant solar flare. He might have screamed, but all he heard was the roar of something in his blood that he couldn't contain.

FUCK!

Shikamaru's body bowed and broke under the bliss, undulating in a slow, rolling arch that had his neck craning back and his mouth tearing open.

He went up in flames, filled to the brink with white fire.

The pleasure swallowed him whole and he burst with an animal cry, torn apart as the fire spilled out of him in a wet torrent that didn't seem to end – gush after gush of a climax too severe for his mind to handle, engulfing him in bliss until the world burned into black.

It felt like death…the sweetest kind…

He barely felt Neji gripping him, holding him together as they both came apart. All he sensed was a deep, melodious moan breaking against his lips. Just the sound of Neji's pleasure wrung another shiver through Shikamaru's spent and shaking body.

Neji…

The name floated in and out of his blurring mind, sailing down like a feather to settle on the frantically beating muscle in his chest. His body shuddered and shivered, blood singing as it simmered.

An afterglow of aftershocks.

It left him trembling and panting until the velvet tongues of peace lapped over every limb, lulling and loosening his breaths, easing the storm.

Then stillness…within and all around…

Peace…

Awareness returned in gossamer threads.

Shikamaru's brain struggled to make sense of it, a chore that took about as much effort as it did to lift his lashes. He felt fingers brush over his heavy lids, coaxing them to close again.

"Close your eyes," Neji whispered, his voice sounding strangely choked.

Shikamaru tried to lift his head, struggling against his failing senses. He felt himself slipping…the lava cooling and dragging him away into a warm, welcoming darkness…

No…

He didn't want to go. Didn't want to fall into a dream just to wake and find that this was nothing more than a cruel imagining. He flexed his fingers, felt the sensation of something slipping through them.

Neji's voice rippled into the black waters. "Don't fight it…"

Again those fingertips ghosted over his lashes, smoothing over his face, stroking away the furrow in his damp brow before combing back through his hair…again and again…

"Let go…"

Shikamaru tried to hold on, tried to anchor his awareness onto the calming stroke of a palm drawing up and down his back…tried to latch onto the sound of rain against the panes…steadily replaced by the sound of Neji's breathing and feel of it against his mouth, soft and synchronised…matching the gentle rise and fall of his chest…

"Sleep…" Neji urged, his voice sounding fainter, further away.

No...

By the time Shikamaru felt himself going under, he had no strength left to fight it.

TBC.

A/N: I'm exhausted for them. Forgive typos, once again am up at stupid o'clock editing. I hear a chorus of screams announce "FINALLY! SHIKANEJI ACTION!". Ah, they sowed the wild seed (so to speak) Now what'll it reap? I hope you enjoyed this chapter, especially you little minxes who've been waiting on it. ^_^ As for the next chapter – will Neji be gone, baby, gone?
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