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On The Cusp	By : Okami-Rayne Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Shikamaru/Neji Views: 2205 -:- 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
- 12
- 13
- 14
ON THE CUSP

by Okami Rayne

Chapter Thirteen

There was solace in the shadows. The kind of comfort that leant itself to stolen moments; moments that belonged in memory, reduced to shadow-play on the walls of the mind.

Memories…moments…that's all we ever have.

Neji blinked slowly, watching the shadows of raindrops play across Shikamaru's skin. They ran in shivering trails along the groove of the shadow-nin's spine, streaking across the sharp slopes of shoulder blades and along the sculpted planes of his back.

Like ink dripping down a breathing canvas.

Neji let out a soft sigh through his nose, swallowing thickly in the silence. He had no idea what time it was or how much time had passed. He'd measured moments in heartbeats, his breathing deep and regular, almost meditative.

At rest…

The kind he'd only ever found with the ninja resting beside him.

Shikamaru lay sprawled on his stomach, one arm lost up under the pillows, the other stretched straight beside his body. His face was turned away from Neji, the shards of his hair splayed in thick slices, sharper and smoother than black glass against the futon's white sheets.

Thunder growled overhead.

Neji held his breath, listening out.

Nothing.

While Shikamaru had shifted around for a restless half hour, he'd eventually found a position comfortable enough to go comatose in.

He hadn't moved since.

Not even the storm had shaken or stirred him. Konoha had taken a beating from it. Wind had whipped rain into a shatter against the glass and thunder had roared and rocked the skies, lightning slashing back in bright bursts. The world had screamed in elemental fury but Shikamaru's world was nothing but stillness and silence, wrapped in shadows and sleep.

Neji's lip twitched in a faint smile.

He shouldn't have been surprised. He'd witnessed Shikamaru's ability to close off his mind and shut down his senses when it came to anything that threatened to encroach on his sleep.

But you can't shut out your nightmares, can you?

Adjusting his elbow against the pillow, Neji tilted his head, leaning his temple against his fist. He gazed down through his lashes at the sleeping shadow-nin.

You always knew what to say to me…and what moves to make to calm me down.

And blinkered by his rage and recklessness, it had never occurred to Neji that Shikamaru had understood and known what to do from personal experience.

"Practice makes perfect."

The drawl of those words crawled cold across Neji's mind, prickling his skin and running chills through his blood. He'd arrogantly assumed that Shikamaru's understanding of how to respond to such panic and pain had come from practicality and prediction. Not the shadow-nin's past.

I was so blind…did I ever see you at all?

Neji's stare grew vacant, losing focus. His attention turned away from the shadows of raindrops on Shikamaru's skin and onto the ribbons of thought playing out in his own mind. Questions that churned and spewed out a one-sided conversation in silence.

Have you always believed what you told me in Hanegakure? That the dreams aren't real?

Reality took on a different dimension in dreams. And Neji knew too well the twisted nature of nightmares. He knew that the forces that generated them could be far more menacing and cruel than the forces of nature and, at times, just as destructive. Those kinds of demons, whether real or remembered, didn't just slip away without an exorcism or a burial.

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

Shikamaru must have believed this lie on some level. Or at least he had for a time.

"I've been doing just fine for two years."

Two years? Neji frowned, the corners of his pale eyes etched with concern.

What happened to you?

Asking that question didn't seem any wiser now than it had hours ago. The last thing Shikamaru needed was someone digging into his past, searching for the skeletons locked in whatever coffin he kept buried six feet under his lies. As for the truth? It was fragile. Neji only possessed fragments of fact. The rest was purely figment, at worst fabrication and futile guesswork.

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

Lose? Trust Shikamaru to reduce something that he found too personal or painful down to a game. But Neji couldn't find it in his heart to be angry. How could he? Two weeks ago he'd violently used what precious little he knew about Shikamaru's past as a weapon against him. It wasn't surprising that Shikamaru was doing whatever was necessary to protect himself now.

"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…"

What right had Neji to take those lies – those defences – away from him?

What right do I have to even BE here right now? Taking away your peace because I only find mine when I'm near you?

He was the worst kind of bastard for that. Showing about as much resolve as a relapsing addict, his heart and head hooked on something he should've found the strength to let go of – for both their sakes.

This will bring you nothing but grief and it still stands to cost me everything…

If he'd allowed himself to dwell on that thought, it might have stopped him from reaching out. He brushed away a few strands of black from Shikamaru's shoulder blade, tracing his fingertips over the rise of bone and down along the warm skin.

Shikamaru didn't stir.

Neji repeated the gesture, trailing his hand up to slip his fingers into the dark hair, stroking it away from the shadowed face. He grazed his knuckle along the ridge of visible cheekbone.

No response.

How have you survived on field missions, Nara? An enemy would take you out in a heartbeat.

The thought was amusing, if not a little unfair. Neji already knew that Shikamaru's mind operated on a different level of awareness when he was 'in the zone'. It made sense that when he felt safe enough to fully let go, he'd sleep through anything that didn't qualify as a threat.

A smile ghosted across Neji's lips, his amusement diluted by sadness.

You trust me, don't you? You shouldn't.

Lightning lit the room like a snapshot, emblazoning the moment in Neji's mind with photographic detail. He framed it away, along with all the other pictures and pieces hanging in his memories.

"What do you want, Neji? One more memory to try and forget?"

A fierce pang twisted in Neji's chest and he squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face away. When his eyes flickered open they settled on the cold gleam of steel at the end of the futon.

His hitai-ate.

Whatever had possessed him to remove it was the same thing keeping him from retrieving it. He'd wanted it gone, irrespective of what it had always meant to him. The scab over his own wound, the armour he shouldn't have let down.

You still make me want to stop fighting…

Another foolish and dangerous thought.

I've had so many of those tonight…and have acted on all of them…

Perhaps that was part and parcel of being a "doer" and allowing instinct to override everything else. Or perhaps that was the worst excuse yet. He had no conviction to back up that explanation.

Because it's a lie.

One that didn't stop him from being held accountable for his actions. Actions he should never have taken. For thoughts he should never have had. For words he should never have spoken. And for emotions he should never have felt. All of these things served as the damning testimony for a trial his mind had already drawn up the sentence to.

Guilty as charged…

For crimes of the heart.

He'd already confessed in action, hadn't he? And in lies that screamed the truth.

Neji blinked slowly, clouded opal eyes refocusing on the body resting beside him. He gazed at Shikamaru for a long moment, time slipping away like the rain off the panes. Some part of Neji's mind urged him to slip away too; to vanish from the scene of the crime so that the shadow-nin could go about cordoning it off and erasing the evidence.

Let him finally forget…

Neji didn't possess the ability to wipe it all clean the way Shikamaru did. He was the kind to hold on even if it hurt more than letting go. He'd hold on until it bled him dry and cut him down to the bone. Maybe there was a masochistic tendency there – but then pain had always driven him forward. Little wonder that the only thing that had brought him peace and pleasure would turn out to be a double-edged sword.

Enough of this. Leave.

A few more seconds slipped by, gathering into minutes that weighed heavier and heavier on his conscience.

Leave.

Neji raked his hair back in a rough snag and fisted the mocha strands into a tangle, letting his elbow slide. He dropped his face into the crook of his arm, snarling with a silent curse.

You weak bastard.

Eyes squeezing shut, he pulled in a deep breath through his nose, diving deep into that reservoir of inner strength that had gotten him through the most devastating of battles. But then, fighting an enemy wasn't the same as fighting himself.

I still don't know how to fight this…

A sharp gasp sounded and the bed jolted.

Neji's eyes snapped open, his head coming up fast.

Shikamaru's body had tensed against the sheets, the arm draped by his side drawn into a push-up position, palm pressed flat against the futon. He looked as if he were about to shove upright.

He didn't.

Neji frowned, watching the way Shikamaru's elbow shook, fingers digging into the white sheets. The shadow-nin tensed again, causing olive skin to stretch taut over the quivering muscles of his back. A fine sheen of sweat broke out across his body.

But he didn't make a sound.

Neji cocked his head to one side and strained to hear the Nara's breathing above the hammering rain. He couldn't.

Damn.

Instead of leaning closer, Neji held back and simply watched and waited, wary enough to keep distance.

Give him a moment…

If Shikamaru was caught between nightmare and reality, he'd be disoriented enough. Plunging in to pull him out of that volatile state risked a similar reaction to the one Neji had witnessed when pulling him out of the water.

Violence and fear.

After a torturous moment that felt more like several minutes, Shikamaru seemed to surface on his own. The tension in his muscles broke, ribs heaving once, body shuddering in a single ripple.

His breath punched out in a shiver and snatched back again in a strangled gulp.

Then silence.

Neji counted to five and rose up onto his elbow.

The futon dipped a little.

Shikamaru stiffened at the movement but quickly shed his tension in that chameleon shift, his body loosening visibly, maybe even deliberately. Neji couldn't see his face, but he suspected that the Nara's expression might have betrayed his relaxed movements.

"Shikamaru…?" he murmured.

Shikamaru tucked his arm under the pillow and hooked his hand over the edge, tipping his head up to drape shaking fingers across his eyes, shielding his face. He made a quiet, croaky hum in the back of his throat. Then he went very still and very quiet – enough to have convinced anyone else he'd simply slipped back into dreams.

Neji didn't fall for it.

Opal eyes softened with understanding.

Blinking slowly, his gaze sharpened on Shikamaru's back, staring hard. A second later, Byakugan veins flared at the Hyūga's temples and the pulse of chakra hit his eyes. Pale orbs flashed wide, gaining the pinprick pupils of his dōjutsu.

And then he saw it.

Shikamaru's heart.

The muscle was thundering in his chest like a bomb set to detonate.

Neji swept his gaze down along the rest of the Nara's body, scanning his tenketsu. The hazy drift of Shikamaru's chakra looked healthy enough, if not a little grey and patchy in places. That could've been down to a number of things, though Neji didn't detect anything malignant this time.

At least I can sense him now…

Deactivating his dōjutsu, Neji blinked and refocused on the damp skin of Shikamaru's back. In his mind's eye he could still see the imprint of the Nara's heart pounding out its panic. Given how agitated Shikamaru's body was it would have made sense if he'd thrashed or torn awake in a terror, but the shadow-nin had barely made a sound.

You really have had practice with this, haven't you?

A gutting concern left Neji with a feeling that felt foreign…but fierce…

He gazed for another long second, tracing his eyes over Shikamaru's back. Without thinking, he leaned down to press his lips to the valley between the Nara's shoulder blades, kissing a soothing trail across the salty skin.

His conscience kicked him mercilessly for the action.

The kisses might as well have been a knife in Shikamaru's back. Hadn't he betrayed the Nara enough already? He'd broken his promise countless times just for the sake of stealing a selfish moment.

Shikamaru let out a soft breath through his nose.

The sound startled Neji into lifting his head, his long mocha bangs whispering across Shikamaru's skin. The muscles in the shadow-nin's back rippled in a shiver. Transfixed by the reaction, Neji drew his palm up along the warm skin, chasing the shiver upwards to caress the Nara's nape.

"Shikamaru?"

"Still here," Shikamaru whispered, his voice thick with sleep.

Neji hesitated, not sure whether that was a question or a statement.

Did you think I'd be gone?

He didn't ask. He already knew the answer. Instead, he responded by reaching higher to rub the back of Shikamaru's head, communicating with a gentle press of his fingers.

Touch talked too.

Shikamaru tilted his head back fractionally, rubbing at his eyes. "Time…?"

"I don't know," Neji admitted softly, skimming his fingers down to hook his thumb just under the point of Shikamaru's jaw, feeling his rapid pulse. "If I ask you what it was, will you tell me?"

Shikamaru's jaw ticked, but otherwise he offered no reaction – or reply.

The question hung unanswered in the air.

The only sound was the rhythm of the rain, the violent downpour having softened to a dull drum against the panes…steady…soothing.

"It's not denial," Shikamaru said at length.

Neji blinked at the sudden and unexpected words, his fingers ceasing their drag through inky strands. "Denial?"

"It's detachment. There's a difference."

Is there?

Neji considered the thin distinction. Coping strategies were vast and varied things. They stretched across a psychological spectrum that perhaps he and Shikamaru were at opposite ends of. Neji pushed things down and suffocated them into numbness while Shikamaru pulled them up into his head and anesthetised them with analysis.

It led to the same end.

Avoidance.

Was there a difference between his denial and Shikamaru's detachment?

Shaking his head, Neji concluded that his thoughts on the matter were irrelevant. What mattered was Shikamaru giving voice to whatever demons he kept caged up, regardless of whether he kept them in his cranium or in his chest.

Neji weighed his words before speaking, his tones hypnotically low and calm. "It's a thin line between the two, Shikamaru."

"Sure, if you're the one drawing it," Shikamaru husked, a hint of a growl roughening his voice. "You love thin lines, don't you?" No sooner had he said it than he shook his head in apology, sighing.

Neji's expression remained neutral. He'd expected anger and cutting sarcasm, so he wasn't offended or surprised by it. If anything, it confirmed what he already suspected and what he'd already seen; that beneath the lazy and apathetic façade, Shikamaru was shaken up.

Afraid.

The thought drove a deep furrow through Neji's brow. He angled his head enough to glimpse Shikamaru's hand, still draped over the dark eyes, shielding them. The shadow-nin's fingers were rigid with tension, despite the rest of his body appearing relaxed.

Neji had seen this before in Hanegakure.

Shifting closer, he began to work a gentle massage against the shadow-nin's scalp, finding tender areas with an intuitive touch. While he only had access to one side of Shikamaru's head, it was enough to loosen some of the Nara's tension.

Shikamaru's fingers relaxed by degrees, but they didn't fall away from his eyes. His breathing shifted, growing deeper and calmer. He seemed to doze as Neji's fingers drifted and kneaded. Occasionally, he'd sniff or swallow, craning his neck to push harder into Neji's touch.

"You can't be comfortable in this position," Neji spoke softly into the silence, reluctant to disturb the other ninja.

Shikamaru grunted. "Can't really tell…"

Neji's brows knitted. "Oh?"

"I cramped up and lost feeling about five minutes back."

Sudden laughter rolled warm in Neji's chest, tumbling from his lips in a sonorous chuckle. "I take it that this numbness extended to your brain before you could think to roll over?"

Shikamaru snorted. "Pretty sure all the blood stopped flowing to my brain before that."

"Is that a compliment or a complaint, Nara?" Neji smirked, carding his fingers through the shadow-nin's hair, catching a glimpse of the faint scrape of heat across Shikamaru's cheekbone, though he still couldn't see the shadow-nin's eyes. "Though I still think your body speaks for itself."

Shikamaru snorted, but a drawl of reluctant amusement softened his voice. "I'd give you a non-verbal reply with my middle finger if I didn't have to move my hand."

"How unpredictably lazy of you."

"More like I'm good with not having feeling in it."

Neji blinked, sobering slightly. His gaze followed the long arm lost up under the pillows, attempting to gauge where the Nara's bandaged hand was resting.

"And you accused me of breaking through walls," the Hyūga muttered dryly. "At least I didn't break any bones."

"Good thing I didn't punch you in the head then. That would'a hurt like hell."

"Granted, you might have broken my jaw."

"Screw your jaw, Hyūga, I'm talkin' about my hand."

Neji fought hard not to laugh, but the much missed banter was breaking down any attempt to build up a cool wall against the warmth in his chest. He tried desperately to smother the feeling, knowing it would only leave him cold with yearning.

Stop making this harder.

Keeping the thoughts at bay, Neji arched a brow, a wry smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Ah, so that miscalculated punch was for your self-preservation rather than mine?"

"You bet."

"Backfired, didn't it?"

"Whatever. I still think your head would'a been harder."

Neji's half-smile travelled across to the opposite side of his mouth, completing an expression no one would've believed him capable of. "And now you'll never know. You wasted your chance. Not many get that close to me."

Shikamaru's fingers curled, folding way from his face. He turned his head, cutting Neji a sidelong glance out the corner of his visible eye. "What're the odds that half your head is rock-solid ego?"

Neji stopped stroking Shikamaru's hair, his smile tilting in a smirk. "And to think you passed up the opportunity to get in a hit and take me down a peg. Or at least you could've tried."

Their gazes caught.

Shikamaru's eyes flickered.

It was the only warning Neji had. The rest happened so fast that if Neji had missed the glint of intent in the shadow-nin's eyes he'd have been caught in a point-blank pin.

Shikamaru snapped around. His left arm lashed out in backward swing designed to bar across Neji's chest and take his balance.

I don't think so.

Smirking, the Jōnin ducked under the attack in a quick dive, muscles shifting like gears. He came up fast, aiming to turn the horseplay on its head by spinning around on his knees to counter-strike.

It was a miscalculated move.

A tactical error of his 'rock-solid' ego.

He hadn't expected Shikamaru to actually get serious.

The shadow-nin backed-up his strike before Neji could blink, snapping into the next move like lightning. In a flash, Shikamaru's hips followed the momentum of his turn. With a sharp twist, his right knee pulled up just as Neji made to spin, driving toward the Hyūga's back.

The hit struck like a mallet, slamming into Neji's bruised kidney.

Pain flashed through him in a white-hot blast.

Opal eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenching hard.

FUCK!

Shikamaru's hand latched around his throat, driving him down. Neji's back hit the futon in a bounce of sheets and the shadow-nin was astride him before he could heave out a cough. A sickening ache floated through Neji like a school of stingrays, tentacles of sharp, almost electric pain carried by waves of nausea and the fierce urge to vomit.

Hitaro had picked a cruel but clever point to target.

Bastard.

Neji blinked when he felt Shikamaru's fingers leave his throat and drag through his hair, pulling it away from his sweaty brow. Then warm, rough palms framed his face. Blinking fast, Neji looked up into the dark spheres of Shikamaru's eyes, which were wide and wild with adrenaline. He looked fierce and flushed – almost feral.

Neji felt a pit of fire open up in his belly, swallowing the nausea and pain.

Primal sexual heat.

A ravenous and animalistic hunger. One that bled from the primitive urge to pit his dominance against Shikamaru's just to see who'd win. Just to see how far they could push each other into that fire until one of them—

STOP it…

Neji shuddered, reining himself in.

Shikamaru frowned, strands of hair fluttering as he panted.

"Shit. You okay?" he rasped.

Neji nodded tightly, swallowing down the bile riding up his throat. "Well manoeuvred, Nara. You're beginning to move like you think."

His earlier comment about Shikamaru's speed hadn't been hollow. Distracted by this thought, Neji followed it, if only to keep his mind off the fire in his blood. Evidently, the Nijū Shōtai had gone with Shikamaru's strength. While ninjutsu stamina and brute force would never be on Shikamaru's side, his taijutsu speed and reflex had improved substantially.

Asuma-senpai has honed you well.

For a long-distance fighter and strategist like Shikamaru, aligning his body with his brain's speed was the perfect enhancement.

You really have gotten faster.

Even the speed at which Shikamaru shed his expressions and disguised his facial tells made him harder to read.

Like right now.

The look on the Nara's face was difficult to gauge. Lines of tension kept etching and erasing from his expression, twitching at the corners of his eyes, tugging at his mouth and between his brows. He scanned Neji's features with quick flicks of his gaze, dark orbs fixing eventually on the bruises along the Hyūga's jaw.

"You're hurt." Not a question.

And not a statement Neji could avoid. The best solution here was the one he hoped Shikamaru would appreciate and respond to. Humour.

"Not everyone values the bones in their hands over the force of their hits, Nara," Neji teased weakly.

Shikamaru let a tense pause hang. Without taking his eyes off Neji's face, he slipped his bandaged hand down along the Hyūga's side, hooking under Neji's back, fingertips gingerly pressing higher along the skin until they hit the tender area above his kidney.

The pain bit deeper than those fingers pressed.

Neji's jaw tensed stubbornly, but he couldn't keep the pain from his eyes.

Shikamaru's lips tightened. "How?"

"Someone took their chance when it came," Neji murmured, the bitterness inside him diluted by the desperate urge to keep his mind off Hitaro and his clan. "You should have too."

Shikamaru frowned and pulled his hand back. The Hyūga could sense him deliberating whether or not to pursue an indirect line of questioning. One that would lead to a fight Neji didn't have the rage to fuel right now.

Let it go, Shikamaru…

These were the things he wanted to forget. The reminders he didn't need. The pain he eased with stolen peace. The bitter memories he'd begun to replace with all the broken moments that he couldn't forget.

And even if this moment breaks like all the others between us…I'll keep the pieces…

Neji drew a slow breath, breathing through the pain in his back until it lulled to a tolerable level, shuddering out a quiet sigh. Shikamaru eyes softened at the sound and his palms settled either side of Neji's head, pressing into the pillows.

Their gazes met and melded into a stare that prickled skin.

Every sense in Neji's body heightened.

His felt his pulse beat heavy in his throat.

Shikamaru leaned down by degrees. "Took a chance right now didn't I?" his voice husked out, drifting over Neji's lips. "So tell me. Did it hit you?"

You hit me harder than you'll ever know, Shikamaru.

"A glancing blow, Nara," Neji returned quietly, breathing deep, struggling to keep things in the safe zone of humour, struggling to curb the urge to lean up and drag his tongue and teeth across the Nara's bottom lip. "Not enough to knock me out the game. Though I see you've upped yours."

Shikamaru hesitated, then cocked his head with a lopsided smile, the dark shards of his hair framing both their faces. "Well you can relax. Playing possum is my next move."

"I suspect you play that every chance you get."

"I'm real good at it."

"Evidently." Neji smirked and tilted his head the opposite way, levelling their gazes at a playful angle. "Do you want me to call your bluff, Nara?"

"Go ahead. When it comes to close-quarter combat I'm a one trick pony."

"With tricks up his sleeve," Neji muttered, trying not to sound amused.

Shikamaru's smile hooked sharper, cutting a dimple into his lean cheek. "I'm all kinds of Tricky."

The stupid nickname did it.

A breathy chuckle bubbled up and Neji's smile showed a brief flash of teeth, laughter creasing the corners of his eyes. The expression caused an odd shift in Shikamaru's face. The Nara's head tilted further to one side. The gleam of dry mischief slid away from his eyes and they widened a little more, dilated pupils bleeding into the darkness of his irises. His gaze drifted slowly over Neji's face –as if he were seeing something rather than searching for it.

The warmth in those eyes pulled at Neji like a magnet.

His pulse thudded hard, slamming into a rhythm Shikamaru had beat into his blood two weeks back.

You hit me in a place I thought was too hard to feel.

And it sure as hell hadn't been his head.

Shikamaru continued to study him with that familiar razor intelligence, but the scrutiny in his gaze was softer than the cutting looks he'd set on Neji earlier. The cynical edge had crumbled away, replaced by a curious tenderness that Neji doubted Shikamaru even knew he was exhibiting.

"Do you still wake up at 4AM?" Shikamaru whispered.

Neji blinked at the unexpected question, but nodded.

Shikamaru frowned. "Nightmares?"

"Sometimes," Neji admitted, though they'd lessened considerably over the past two weeks, the psychosomatic effects all but fading away – just like the ghost of his father.

"Neji, you must live."

Neji closed his eyes, regret solidifying like a chunk of rock in his throat. He felt Shikamaru's breath ghost across his brow, lips skimming down over his nose.

"Is there pain?"

"Not anymore," Neji murmured, eyes flickering open to half-mast, a wry smile twitching at his lips. "Just deep breathing, as you know."

Shikamaru almost smiled, but the attempt was ruined by the strained look that flickered across his face. He lowered his gaze. "I'm not going off the deep end, Neji."

Neji's expression arched in surprise, then dropped into a frown. He tilted his head, trying to draw those averted eyes back towards him. "Shikamaru?"

Shikamaru shifted his weight onto his left elbow and reached up with his bandaged hand, tracing his fingers over the hard line of Neji's cheekbone, following it around to the Hyūga's temple, his thumb caressing the far corner of one moonstone eye.

"Deep breathing," Shikamaru said. "I get that."

Neji blinked slowly and shuttered his gaze, reaching up to drag Shikamaru's hair away from his face in a lazy sweep. "What does that have to do with you going off the deep end?"

"It means you don't need to pull me out of one. I'm not in one. It's not there."

"You're not making sense." Not entirely true, but Shikamaru didn't need to know that. Also, Neji wanted clarity.

"What I did earlier, I…" Shikamaru cut off, sucked his teeth and smacked his lips, struggling for a moment before he chuckled raggedly without raising his eyes. "It was almost worth the head trauma to see you jumping into a tub."

Neji ignored the humour, his eyes cool and calm. "What were you doing, Shikamaru?"

Shikamaru's face tensed.

Neji knew that asking that question was taking a risk.

But he told himself he was taking a chance instead.

Shikamaru didn't answer right away, not that Neji expected him to. Honestly, he expected an evasion coming any second now: a change of topic, a physical shift away, a lame joke or—

"I used to do it two years ago."

Neji's fingers stilled at the back of Shikamaru's head. "Why?"

There was silence for a time. A time that Shikamaru spent staring at the space just to the side of Neji's head, the muscles in his lean face flexing as if he were trying to control his features and flatten his expression.

"Because it helped," Shikamaru sighed, his voice hushed and hoarse. "It's psychosomatic…if you can push past the panic, get past the fear…sometimes you can find something."

Neji watched him closely, frowning. "And what do you find?"

Shikamaru pressed his lips, shaking his head imperceptibly. "It finds me."

Neji's frown dug deeper. "What does?"

A wince pulled at the corners of Shikamaru's eyes before they drifted shut. He set his brow to the crook of Neji's shoulder, resting his weight on his elbows.

"Whatever works, right?"

Neji considered this evasive reply, concern and caution roiling inside him. He decided to pitch his question differently. "How does it work?"

"I don't know, I don't think about it…" Shikamaru let out long breath through his nose, the warm air tickling Neji's collarbone. "It just…happens…"

The Jōnin squeezed Shikamaru's nape gently, rocking his wrist to try and draw the Nara's head back up. "So that's how you detach? You let something pull it all away, rather than push things down?"

Shikamaru stiffened – an immediate signal.

Close.

Testing the tension, Neji tilted his hips up and rocked sideways fast, rolling them over in a gentle tumble that put him above the Nara. "Is that what you do?"

Shikamaru scowled at the reversal of their positions, his breath coming a little harder. Another immediate signal. He tried to pull his elbows beneath him, growling when Neji didn't grant him the leeway to move.

"Knock it off, Neji."

"Why? So you can brush it off like it doesn't matter?" Neji countered.

"Like I said, whatever works."

"But it doesn't, does it?"

"Worked just fine for two years. I let it go."

"We don't have nightmares about things we've let go of."

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed, tongue lashing fast. "You would know, right?"

"I wish I'd known sooner," Neji whispered, the quiet words knocking the anger off Shikamaru's face. "You always knew…and I never stopped to consider why."

"Don't beat yourself up, Hyūga," Shikamaru muttered, the annoyance in his voice betrayed by the softening around his eyes. "You did enough of that at the time, coughing up blood and all."

There was a fine line between a joke and jab in those words; the double-edged blade of Shikamaru's sharp tongue. Automatically, Neji's gaze strayed to the sensual curve of the shadow-nin's lower lip, then flicked back up to the dark eyes.

"My past and my rage created a wound that almost killed me, Shikamaru. Blood was the price for my denial," he said quietly. "Be careful it doesn't become the price for your detachment."

Shikamaru didn't offer a snappy comeback. In fact, he gazed up seriously through his lashes, dragging in a breath that streamed slow and controlled through his lips, sighing out his response.

"It won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because scars don't bleed, Neji."

And what's under those scars, Shikamaru?

Neji bit back the question, having checked himself ruthlessly regarding how deep he'd dig before he hit the coffin that Shikamaru had buried his past in.

That's as far as I can go…

Digging any further risked unearthing truths Shikamaru didn't want to face.

And I have no right to make you go there.

Neji pressed his lips, cutting off any words he might have spoken. But he made no effort to conceal the look of concern that played across his eyes.

Shikamaru inclined his head, offering that lazy, crooked smile. "Don't worry about me, Hyūga. I'm good at running away from troublesome crap."

"And if you run too far away from yourself, Shikamaru?"

The shadow-nin stared into his eyes for several seconds. Neji could sense the gears shifting in that complex mind, processing the words and the disturbing dead-ends they alluded to.

"That's a worse case scenario that wouldn't happen," Shikamaru said.

Neji leaned down, tapping their foreheads. "Not even worth considering in your two hundred possibilities?" he returned, managing to ease the weight of his question with humour.

Shikamaru must have appreciated the effort because he rewarded Neji with a rusty chuckle, rolling his eyes. "Fine, if you wanna split hairs over it. It's possible. But its still never gonna happen."

Neji didn't look convinced.

Shikamaru sighed and combed his fingers through the Jōnin's hair, raking back the long, thick bangs to draw Neji's head up a notch, levelling their gazes.

"Relax, Hyūga," Shikamaru drawled. "I've always got someone chasing me down and dragging me back." He paused before adding, "Whether I want him to or not."

Faces scrolled across Neji's mind; the faces of Shikamaru's friends and family until one figure that didn't quite slot into either of those categories came to the fore. Neji spoke the name before he could think to question it.

"Asuma."

Shikamaru looked impressed at the guess and nodded. "Yeah."

Neji smiled a little, amused at Shikamaru's expression. True, he might not have understood the bond that Asuma-senpai had created with his students, but that didn't mean he was blind to it. Other Jōnin joked about it. Neji had caught glimpses of it earlier in the way he'd seen Shikamaru and the Sarutobi playing Shogi.

"He taught you how to play Shogi, didn't he?" Neji asked, arching a brow when Shikamaru rolled his eyes, a wry smile tugging at his mouth.

"Yeah, he tricked me into it to prove his theory about my IQ," Shikamaru grumbled, but Neji detected amusement and affection in the annoyance. "Troublesome turn of events. Could'a gone on fooling everyone into believing that I was just a lazy dumbass who got kicks outta cloud-gazing."

"But you couldn't fool him, could you?"

"Like I said, troublesome."

"And is that the case now?"

Shikamaru shot him an angled look. "Now?"

"Does he know about your nightmares, Shikamaru?" Neji asked.

Shikamaru went quiet, his brows drawing together. He canted his head to one side and averted his eyes, setting his focus on the cascade of mocha silk hanging over one of Neji's firm, angular shoulders, the ends of the rich mane pooling on Shikamaru's stomach and chest. The Nara flexed his fingers through the chocolate mass, frowning with concentration that went inward.

"He doesn't need to know about that."

Neji watched him closely, curious but cautious. He hedged his next words in a murmur, grazing his fingertips against Shikamaru's temple. "Do you need him to know, Shikamaru?"

Shikamaru's eyes pinched hard, his fingers fisting in Neji's hair before he smoothed out the dark strands with a shaky breath. That was as much of an answer as he seemed willing to give. Neji took it for the affirmative he knew it was.

"You should talk to him," Neji advised, already preparing himself for the backlash on offering advice when it hadn't been asked for. Honestly, he had no business saying a damned word.

"I know," Shikamaru rasped – and the unexpected response seemed to surprise them both. "I know that."

"Then do it."

"Right, 'cause that's what you'd do, huh?" Shikamaru returned archly, glancing up through narrowed eyes. "You'd stonewall Gai-sensei and any other Jōnin and we both know it."

Neji drew his head back, pinning Shikamaru with a hard look.

It had no effect.

The shadow-nin's eyebrow scaled to a taunting arch, daring Neji to bullshit. The Hyūga knew that he couldn't. There was no buffer against what was blatant to them both. He conceded Shikamaru's point with a tilt of his brow, but he didn't surrender.

"True," Neji admitted, begrudging the fact. "But this isn't about me. And for all my stonewalling, aren't you doing the same thing when you run into your shadows?"

Shikamaru's eyes flashed at that, a warning flicker. "Watch it, Hyūga."

"I watch you, Nara," Neji returned, using the words to his advantage. "But I don't always see you, do I?"

The anger bled out of Shikamaru's eyes and the tension fled his face, leaving his expression slack with uncertainty. "Neji…"

"I'm not blind to that fact, at least. But Asuma sees you, Shikamaru."

"He hears me."

"Hears you?" Neji blinked at the quick correction, not sure what to make of the words, sensing there was both a subtle and immense significance to them. "Meaning he understands you?"

A weak smile fluttered across Shikamaru's lips. "To make it stupid simple, yeah, something like that."

Neji dissected this in silence, struggling to fully grasp the concept. He could only analyse it under the microscope of experience. Going from his own understanding, the thought of lowering one's guard enough to be seen or heard – let alone understood – didn't seem safe or sensible. Or maybe he'd just never trusted anyone enough to try. He'd never let anyone get that close; not Gai, not his team, not his clan.

No one.

Liar.

He pulled in a breath, regarding Shikamaru through his lashes.

No one?

All evidence was suddenly to the contrary. Something pulled inside him and he hardened the armour around his heart in an attempt to keep the sadness at bay.

You remain the exception to my rule, Shikamaru…

Shikamaru didn't notice the conflicted look Neji shot him. He seemed to be ruminating over his own thoughts.

"A sensei should understand their student, right? I'm not so sure I understand him though." Shikamaru shook his head. "He's a pretty elusive teacher."

"How so?"

Shikamaru shrugged, shooting Neji a hooded look. "Might be the literal smokescreen."

Neji smirked, a chuckle catching behind his teeth. "Be grateful Asuma doesn't clad himself in spandex and encourage – or rather enforce – the rule that you follow his Youthful lead. I had nightmares about my sensei as a child."

Shikamaru laughed and the husky sound hit Neji's heart. It jack-hammered into his throat and warmth bloomed tender as a bruise inside him.

God, he'd missed that sound.

What he'd missed in equal measure was the look that accompanied it.

The look the Nara was wearing now.

Shikamaru was laughing with his eyes closed, those prominent cheekbones lifting higher, dimples digging deep. His brow had tipped down, as if to hide the breath-taking grin that cut sharp and sexy across his face.

Neji took in the image, breath holding hard in his throat. He barely had a chance to catch his breath before those dark lashes lifted with a lazy smile, obsidian eyes glittering in amusement.

"God, you gotta love the karma on that one," Shikamaru laughed, trying to smooth out the rumpled chuckles in his voice. "A student like you and a sensei like Gai? Wish I'd seen the look on your face the day you got assigned to him."

Neji smirked, too caught up in enjoying Shikamaru's open display of laughter to get hung up on his own pride. "The Sandaime had an interesting sense of humour. How polite of you to share it at my expense."

Another raspy laugh. "Hey, I'm taking you down all sorts of pegs without having to move anything but my mouth. It works."

Neji scoffed, but couldn't resist a smile.

Shikamaru smiled back.

They gazed at each other, chuckling softly into the easy silence.

The rain had softened into a patter against the panes, the glass clouded with condensation. It was the only sound now, its lull soft and soothing. The storm had passed and the staccato flashes had ceased, leaving behind a strange underexposed light which took on the dark, rough texture of charcoal, smudged around the edges.

It felt evanescent and eerie.

But peaceful.

Peace…

Neji drank it in, letting it seep through his senses: the balmy smell of bodies and musk, the sound of breathing, the soft beat of the rain, the taste of Shikamaru's skin lingering on his tongue. But it was the feel of Shikamaru's fingertips tracing over the scars on his back and the soft, mesmerised look in the Nara's dark eyes that rooted this precious peace into all the holes in Neji's heart.

The holes from all the hits he'd taken.

Holes gouged into a part of him he swore he'd never leave open again.

You still find me…

Neji swallowed thickly, his voice soft as rumpled velvet. "Every time."

Shikamaru's head cocked in question, the dark shards of his hair splayed every which way like an inky starburst, flowing over the crumpled pillows. He blinked up at Neji, fingers grazing along the Hyūga's spine, wandering in lazy spirals over his skin.

"Hmn?"

Neji swallowed hard, his throat tight.

Shikamaru's fingers stilled. "Neji?"

Shaking his head, Neji brushed pale fingers over Shikamaru's mouth, following the lopsided curve of the shadow-nin's lips. "I'll keep our pieces, Shikamaru. You can let them go."

Shikamaru's smile slipped away with his breath, eyes rounding slowly. The torn look ripped at Neji's heart and his conscience brutally flayed what was left of it. He drew back onto his knees but before he could force himself to pull away something pulled him in.

It was a look in Shikamaru's eyes.

A look that hooked him, held him and then hit them both – hard.

They both tensed.

Maybe they felt it at the same time.

That ache tugging back and forth between them; the bond that had brought them together and broken them apart. The force of it pulled at blood and bones, rolling its need along the full lengths of their bodies, bringing them closer as Neji leaned down and Shikamaru arched up onto his elbows.

Their mouths brushed.

It was electric.

Shikamaru jolted as if shocked, lips parting around a ragged sound. Neji's breath trembled out, heart throbbing. His thumb traced the chords in Shikamaru's throat, feeling them tighten with a quick flex and sharp intake of breath.

Stop.

Neji pulled back so that their open mouths settled a scant inch apart, just shy of touching. Only their breaths touched…warm air caressing in rough, sultry streams…passing back and forth between parted lips.

"Can't play without the pieces," Shikamaru breathed into Neji's mouth, his voice as strained as his smile. "Too bad this was never a game."

I know…

And that truth didn't make it any easier to live with than the lies.

It's never easy. But I will do it. After all, I broke my promise…didn't I?

Neji closed his eyes, shuddering.

Shikamaru leaned back, tipping his chin up to brush a kiss across the Hyūga's curse mark. His lips lingered long enough for him to mouth something against the branded skin. Then he reached up to stroke his bandaged hand over the back of Neji's head down to his nape.

Our lies have led to this moment…

Neji mirrored the touch and settled their brows together.

And I don't trust myself not to lie to you again…just for one moment more…

Because as he'd always known, moments were all they ever had.

The sun glowed butter-yellow beyond the haze, its halo blurred and lazy. Mist had come rolling in with the dawn, sheeting over Konoha's rooftops like frosted glass, obscuring the streets below.

A bird sang, its shrill song piercing the quiet.

Neji stood on the veranda, staring out across the ryokan's lush and glistening gardens to the village beyond. A small cup of jade dew tea steamed in his hand, the sweet smell of the infusion drifting on the breeze. The chill carried past Neji's sandaled feet, drawing thin gauzes of mist into the guestroom.

The bird called again, another taking up the chorus.

Time to go…

Neji closed his eyes and tipped his head back, hitai-ate glinting. He breathed deep of the cool dew-damp scents drifting from below – until he caught the aroma of coffee drifting from behind.

His lips flicked upward at one corner. "Come to catch the sunrise, Nara?"

A soft snort sounded. "Sadist."

Neji smirked and turned his head, glancing over his shoulder.

Shikamaru stood slouched against the open doors, leaning into the frame, coffee cup cradled in his bandaged hand. Neji noted almost immediately that the Nara's hair was back in its jagged tail, which appeared to be the only thing he'd bothered to secure.

Neji raked his gaze over the rest of the shadow-nin.

The crimson yukata looked like an afterthought, lazily shrugged on with the belt loosely tied. It exposed a hard ridge of collarbone and a bruised junction of shoulder and neck. Shikamaru looked sleep-rumpled and moody, a little rough around his sharp edges, yet somehow managing to wear this dark aura in a distinctly raw and sexual way.

The most appealing part was his utter obliviousness to it.

Neji smiled.

A dark brow shot up. "What?" Shikamaru croaked, raising his mug to his lips.

The Hyūga shook his head. "You look—"

"Like shit," Shikamaru finished, taking a sip of coffee blacker than the look he sent the brightening sky. "Told you what these hours do to me."

"I recall something about stupid o'clock." Neji turned and reached down to set his teacup on the balcony's lacquered table, the white sleeve of his robe skimming the puddles of rainwater that had pooled on its surface. "Go back to sleep."

"Can't," Shikamaru raised his mug toward the sun in a dry salute. "I'll end up burning daylight and I've got crap to do."

Neji straightened up and stepped forward. "Your birthday break is over then?"

"Before it even started," Shikamaru muttered, eyes fixed on Neji's chest. "Back to the grindstone." He hesitated, speaking his next words into his mug. "What about you?"

Good question.

Neji wasn't sure how to answer it.

Somehow he didn't think that 'ANBU by any means necessary' was a safe reply. He could always go with: 'I'm going to spend the day deliberating how many ways your father is likely to sabotage my freedom and put me in a casket – and given how crafty you Nara bastards are, I'm certain it will involve me digging my own grave and him putting me in it without having to lift a finger…just an eyebrow. Wonderful.'

Neji winced inwardly. All of that was a mindful to process, let alone a mouthful to articulate. Also, he didn't think Shikamaru would appreciate the update, for all the trouble it would start to fester in his genius brain.

"I will go wherever the next mission takes me," Neji said, deciding on something vague but plausible. "With the Akatsuki threat at large, anything is possible."

"Don't remind me," Shikamaru sighed, rubbing his temple against the shoji frame. "I got a little white booklet with all the fun facts to figure out."

Neji's interest piqued. "A little homework on the side, Shikamaru? That must cut into your nap time."

Shikamaru made a face.

Neji smirked. "I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle."

A faint line appeared between the Nara's brows, his gaze casting off to the side. "It's like doing a puzzle without having the pieces."

"Imagine how rewarding the outcome will be," Neji teased, trying to play down his own sense of unease at spying the apprehension in Shikamaru's face.

Annoyance was trademark to Shikamaru – but anxiety?

He didn't even try to return the humour.

Neji frowned. "What is it?"

Without looking up, Shikamaru raised his coffee to his lips and drank half of it in one long swallow, grimacing. Neji guessed the sour look had nothing to do with the brew.

"Something Asuma-sensei said about neighbouring attacks," the Nara explained. "It's all drawing a little too close to home."

"You believe it's Akatsuki?" Neji asked, betting his instinct on the answer.

The shadow-nin shrugged and pushed away from the door. He stepped out onto the veranda, barefoot, tucking his other hand into the deep pocket of his yukata. A capricious breeze slipped between them, riffling Neji's bangs and playing with the loose fold of Shikamaru's robe.

The wind felt colder than it should have.

"Even if it isn't, it's just a matter of time," Shikamaru murmured, cocking a hip to the balustrade. He set his gaze on some far point in the distance, frowning. "Can't stop the clock, right?"

Neji watched him out the corner of his eye. "Shikamaru…"

Shikamaru blinked fast and shook off his frown, swirling the dregs of his coffee. He shot Neji a rueful look, a half-smile playing at his lips. "Not good with this part. You usually knock me out and hightail it."

"Hightail it…" Neji echoed, sampling the slang with a smile.

"Do what I do," Shikamaru clarified. "Run away."

"I don't run away," Neji replied, pride an unmistakeable undercurrent in his deep tones.

"Troublesome." Shikamaru shook his head in sardonic amazement, lifting his shoulder in a lazy shrug that simultaneously brought his mug to his lips. "Fine. You vanish into the ether. Dignified enough for your ego, Hyūga?"

Neji would have laughed, if he hadn't felt that longing threatening to swallow the air in his chest and destroy whatever remained of his resolve.

He tipped his head and fought back a smile. "You never cared about entertaining my ego."

Shikamaru snorted, setting his mug on the balustrade. "Too much trouble, unless you're gonna use the 'rock-solid' part of it to knock me out."

The humour wobbled like a bubble, bursting on the cool breeze that stole between them, carrying birdsong and shaky breaths. Neji kept his gaze locked on those dark eyes, searching for something he didn't count on either of them confronting. At least not in words.

But bodies speak too.

Neji closed the distance between them without hesitation, his stride calmer than the emotion churning in his eyes. Shikamaru didn't bristle or bolt, but his brow crept up in that subtle arch that Neji hadn't thought he'd ever miss seeing. The dry look had never failed to provoke and infuriate him in the past. But like so much else that he should have focused on forgetting or hating about Shikamaru, he'd ended up remembering and missing it either way.

"That wasn't an invitation," the shadow-nin muttered dryly, but Neji could sense the sadness in his smile.

Neji stepped up to him and set his hand at the junction of Shikamaru's neck and shoulder, brushing his thumb over the mark he'd left on the olive skin.

It would fade in time.

Unlike you…

Shikamaru didn't tense or try to shrug off the touch. He watched Neji without hiding his eyes behind their usual half-mast, not even attempting a wary look of calculation.

As they'd both learned, this really wasn't a thinking thing.

Neji cupped Shikamaru's jaw, stroking his thumb across coffee-warmed lips.

"You know why I came," he said, his voice little more than a murmur.

Shikamaru did hide his eyes then. He turned his face into the touch, his breath ghosting out in a sigh against Neji's palm. "I can think of a few possibilities."

"And I'm sure you can narrow them down to the reason."

"Can't," Shikamaru husked, shrugging his other shoulder with a shaky smile. "I don't ever wanna know, remember?"

Remember? Neji had never forgotten – wasn't that the problem?

He stroked his gaze over Shikamaru's face, warring with himself over his next words, well aware that the shadow-nin would hear and understand the underlying meaning in them. Knowing this, he shouldn't have said them. But they tumbled out regardless.

"I'll always remember, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru's eyes widened then drifted shut, jaw flexing hard. "Troublesome Hyūga," he chuckled quietly. "Can't keep it stupid simple can you?"

"It's always been simple, Shikamaru. Just never easy."

"Because fate's a bitch that doesn't pull her punches."

"Unlike you."

Shikamaru chuckled at that, slipping his eyes open to settle their gazes. "Shoulda hit you hard when I had the chance."

You did.

Neji slipped his hand around to the back of Shikamaru's head, tapping their brows. "Next time around, Nara?"

"Count on it."

A mutual understanding passed between them this time, spoken in a look, received in a touch. They'd breathed it into each other countless times. It went unspoken and unfinished in many ways. In unfathomable ways. In more ways than Neji could name or Shikamaru could predict. But then that was the nature of things that went undefined – even if somehow, in the stolen moments, it was understood.

TBC.
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