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Neji Makes a Change	By : Hestia Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Shikamaru/Neji Views: 2574 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Narutoverse or make anything from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Neji Makes a Change
- 1
Neji Makes a Change

I. Strategy

He could have anyone he wanted. Ok, maybe not anyone. And he only wanted men anyway. Hyuuga Neji studied himself in the mirror. He looked pretty good—not too skinny, not too bulky. His hair was too long for many men’s taste, but it also drew lots of others. His face wasn’t as cute as Naruto’s or as perfect as Sasuke’s, but it had a good balance of strength and elegance. It was a Hyuuga face.

It wasn’t really his looks that made Neji so confident he could get whoever he wanted, but his heritage. He was a Hyuuga—his destiny, his cage, his blessing—but he wasn’t going to let being a Hyuuga completely define him. Yes, his clan gave him wealth, powerful jutsus, name recognition, and many social and financial advantages. But what made him special was his genius, his ability, and his work ethic that pushed him to master jutsus that others couldn’t. He’d forged important friendships with some of the most powerful ninjas of his generation. He’d led important missions. He was a respected and admired jounin. He was the Hyuuga Neji.

And he was lonely.

He hadn’t had sex for six months.

He hadn’t gone on a date in the last eight months.

And his Uncle’s cousin’s son, Aki, was getting married right here in the Hyuuga compound, in three weeks, and he didn’t have a date for the wedding. This was a problem because one Hyuuga wedding often led to more weddings. One of the most favored topics of conversation during Hyuuga wedding celebrations was what family members had brought dates acceptable or desirable as mates to the wedding and how could the family pressure the couples into marrying at once. Even more delighted in were the whispered conversations about the Hyuugas who had brought completely unacceptable partners and how those relationships could be broken up. As for those that brought no one—clearly something was wrong, and they needed to be questioned thoroughly and helped.

Even shy Hinata had always managed to get enough courage to find a date for every wedding held since she made chuunin. The stories of their third cousin Haru who had had fourteen truly awful blind dates arranged for him at great-aunt Mikko’s wedding had not been forgotten, even though that had happened eight years ago. Neji was not going to go through what Haru had—not that anyone would dare set him up with such losers.

No, he would pick his date and pick his mate. It was time. He needed a steady boyfriend—and needed to make clear he was gay, very gay, to the family. That would prevent more matchmaking efforts. No woman worthy of such an important Hyuuga would stoop to marry a gay man. It would be an insult.

He would need an apartment appropriate for the two of them. Public dates—starting quickly, to get the facts of his love life well circulated prior to the wedding. It would have to be a “whirlwind” romance or even “a love at first sight” sort of thing.

But who?

Not Kiba, not Lee, not Shino, not Naruto, not Chouji. Kakashi was unreliable, and Ibiki, no, no, was just Ibiki, the head of ANBU’s interrogation and torture unit. Genma would cheat on him. Kotetsu and Izumo were living together and in love. Ebisu was straight. Aoba was too annoying. Iruka and Gai were paternal figures to him; he couldn’t see them in a sexual light at all. Sai and Yamato were ANBU, which was problematic, and particularly unfortunate as they were both incredibly desirable men.

That left Raidou, Iwashi, and Shikamaru. Iwashi was the most attractive of the bunch, but Shikamaru was the most powerful in terms of rank and family connections. He was the closest to Neji in age. Raidou and Iwashi were currently dating others, in fact. Neji was confident those dates weren’t an obstacle, but really Shikamaru was a logical choice.

He was smart, acceptable looking, a respected ninja, and of a good family. He was quiet and didn’t make a mess. He had adequate manners, was no man whore, and wasn’t dating. He was gay—the two man whores Neji talked to had had him on various missions: Kiba and Genma. There was some talk he and Chouji were fuck-buddies, but Chouji liked girls more than guys, just like Naruto. Shikamaru, like Neji, was really too busy to find someone. Moreover, the Nara was notorious for liking things that were smooth and painless, requiring no effort from him. Neji could deal with that, at least for a year. Yes, he’d get a year’s lease on a place. He would furnish it, arrange for housekeeping, cooking, and cleaning. He could order and pay for the clothing Shikamaru would need for their dates.

In fact, it would be a joy to be in charge—he could select the restaurants, the movies, and the festivals. He would keep the dates to the minimum—but Shikamaru would have to make that much effort. Hmmm, maybe Iwashi or Raidou was the better choice—they’d fall over themselves to please Neji. But then they would want Neji to do the things they liked. No, Shikamaru was the ideal man to become his roommate and lover.

Neji took another look at himself in the mirror—yes, he looked good, and his clothing was expensive and sexy, but not slutty or ostentatious. The white cashmere sweater and soft natural linen pants were neither too causal nor too formal. He was ready to go get his man. With a last nod at the man in the mirror, Hyuuga Neji set out to change his life.

II. Spontaneity

It’s difficult to hide from a Hyuuga with Byakugan, and Shikamaru didn’t bother to hide from anyone anyway. Neji checked with his Byakugan that no one was in hearing distance before approaching Shikamaru who was laying on his back, watching the clouds. As he approached, Neji took a good long look at the shadow nin, noting the way Shikamaru’s chest and arms filled out the black mesh shirt he was wearing. His body, lying there in the grass, had a relaxed grace that was nice, no, more than nice. Damn, it had been a long time since he’d seen Shikamaru in mesh—the man looked damn fine.

Getting closer, Neji felt a rush of satisfaction with his choice—it was that ponytail and the scowl that frequently was on Shikamaru’s face that made Iwashi seem more attractive. When the shadow nin’s face was relaxed and peaceful like it was now, you could admire his thin, elegant eyebrows, the oval shape of his face, and his long neck. A neck that looked lickable, kissable. And those thin, pale lips of his, looked surprisingly kissable up close. Sex with Shikamaru would be no chore thought Neji, as he crossed the last few feet to stand by Shikamaru’s knees—knees that were encased in tight black pants—oh god, very tight pants. Fuck—lethally tight—those legs were amazing. Neji blinked, staring at Shikamaru’s crotch.

Shit, he’d been too long without dick, and this one looked good, real good. Neji was rock hard in his linen pants, tenting them out, and if Shikamaru cared to look away from the fucking clouds, he’d get a great view of just how happy Neji was to see him. Then Shikamaru’s cock moved in those tight pants, stiffening—hardening for him. All Neji’s plans went out the window—there was no one to see, no one to hear, and a hot, sexy body there on the ground beneath him.

He was on Shikamaru almost the moment he thought of it, and the feel of his cock against that one straining those tight black pants was heaven. Neji ground himself against Shikamaru, and suddenly those intense dark eyes of the shadow nin looked right into Neji’s pale ones. He’d thought of Shikamaru’s eyes as small, shifty, evasive, even beady in the past—but now they were black pools; they were heat and hunger, predatory and passionate.

Their mouths met in a kiss as they ground against each other. Neji needed more, had to have more, and as he slid his body over Shikamaru’s, he sucked greedily at younger man’s mouth. Partially using chakra to support himself, Neji’s left hand was sliding over Shikamaru’s mesh-covered skin while his right groped at a hip, an upper thigh, a butt cheek.

It was a shock when Shikamaru suddenly flipped Neji on his back, pushing up his white cashmire turtleneck to bunch under his arms, exposing his abs and chest. His linen pants and white silk boxers were down around his ankles in a flash, and Shikamaru was stripping off his own clothes above him even as shadow hands reached down to Neji. The sun backlit Shikamaru’s silhouette, and the clever jounin need no hand signs to extend down the black, ghostly shadow hands that ran over Neji’s hair, rubbed his nipples, stroked his penis, and caressed his balls. The shadow hands shrunk as Shikamaru gracefully lowered his naked body over Neji. He moved too slow, and Neji’s arms reached up to jerk that tan body down over his pale one. Now he could feel that naked skin against his, much better, more substantial than a mere shadow, better than his own hands, a million times better. Ah, yes, tongue against tongue, dick against dick: this was what he’d been missing, wanting, needing.

Neji arched and thrust up frantically. He could feel himself already getting close to a climax. No point in delaying; he had to come now, to get relief. He’d be hard again later—these kisses, this body, that cock—oh, yes, once wouldn’t be enough. But a hand grasped his hair, holding his head down to the ground, though Neji’s hips still rose and dipped and rose again. He strained against the hand on his hair, wanting more kisses, more of that tongue dancing against his. But the jounin above him denied him that mouth, that tongue, those lips—and his hand jerked down the collar of Neji’s sweater, biting his neck fiercely, then sucking and nipping, marking him.

Neji’s body clenched, and he cried out, feeling himself once more getting close to coming. No one had ever dared to be rough with Neji, had ever taken charge of him, had treated his clothes, his body, his hair like this—and no one but Kiba had ever bitten his neck so hard, sucked at it so fiercely. But where Kiba had gotten a smack on the head, Neji’s hand gripped Shikamaru’s shoulder and dug in. It didn’t feel disgusting and slobbery like a dog was chewing on him, but instead erotic and arousing. Neji thrashed and thrust, his head twisting, feeling the tight grip on his hair, the teeth on his throat, the weight on his body—and that cock, thicker, longer than his, wetter and harder than his, so heavy, so pefect against his in the sweet, slick space between them. Shika’s abs, his dick, and the warmer texture of his pubic hair—all of it was moving against Neji’s cock.

Shikamaru raised his head up from Neji’s throat, his face contorted in pleasure, and he began to move over Neji with the sort of skill that only an elite shinobi possessed. Ah, god, the pressure, the pleasure, and just an edge of pain—and Neji was there, coming like he’d not come for months.

His eyes shut tight, as did his mouth—he came silently, quietly, used to hiding his pleasure as much as one could in a compound full of family that could see through walls. Ah, the contractions, the feel of his ejaculate—he shuddered, loving those moments when his body took control and did what it wanted. But even before he was spilling out his last bit of sperm, he was distracted, feeling Shikamaru above him, looking down at him, watching him, seeing his pale Hyuuga body come, come from kissing and fucking against Shikamaru’s stomach, untouched by a flesh and blood hand.

As the tremors stopped, Neji felt himself blushing, and he was too exhausted to do anything to hide it. He’d come like a slut with his sweater shoved up to his armpits, his pants down, exposed on the grass like a horny teenager. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know his white skin was flushed deep rose, his nipples stiff and red, his cum thick and white, and plentiful enough to suggest he’d been celibate for a while. And of course, Shikamaru hadn’t come yet—damn it, Neji thought, he wasn’t making a very good impression on the man he wanted to live with.

But he felt fingers over his stomach, his softening cock, and when he peeked through his lashes, he saw Shikamaru with his hand slicked with Neji’s sperm stroking himself. Those dark eyes caught his white ones—and they saw each other, saw the need, the desire. Neji knew he was seeing Shikamaru, the true Shikamaru, the man who was not as passive and lazy as he appeared, but brilliant, cunning, complex, and—fucking sexy. He had never seen porn as hot as the sight of Nara Shikamaru, his mouth open, jerking his thick dick. Neji loved the sight of that strong, sure hand working a cock that made his seem a bit small, a bit thin. God, it was a beautiful cock, a cock worthy of worship!

“Shikamaru,” whispered Neji, and then he fell silent as the shadow nin gave a little cry letting his cum shoot out on Neji’s chest, on his crumpled cashmere sweater, on his newly marked neck, on his swollen lips, his face, and his hair. Sated with his own pleasure, Neji just let it happen. He could have prevented it, could have moved with a basic jutsu or shielded himself. But instead he simply watched, loving the sight of Shikamaru’s face as he climaxed. His body shuddered a little at the sight and the feel of that thick, warm semen landing on his skin. He never thought he’d ever do something this, well, dirty. Outside, exposed, such a slutty sight that lazy Shikamaru had spanked off on him, sprayed him, marked him, and was even now still lost in some erotic after-bliss.

Hell, they were both drawing deep breaths as if they’d just raced around Konoha in one of Gai’s ridiculous challenges. But no, they’d fucked. Well, technically frotted, but it was nothing to do with love or romance—it was, shit, the hottest thing that he’d ever done. Neji’s tongue licked over his lips tasting Shikamaru, tasting sperm, sucking in that taste that was sex, man, and cock. Oh, god, he’d missed that taste! Neji raised his hand to his face, and his fingers swept along his cheek, swiping up Shikamaru’s spray, bringing it to his lips. He sucked in his fingers, moaning at the taste, something he’d never wanted to do before, never even thought of—but now it just seemed right, so naughty, so slutty, so absolutely not Hyuuga, he’d be hard if he hadn’t blasted out everything in his balls till there was nothing left.

Shikamaru’s mouth fell open, and he let out a sound that was half groan and half growl. Neji’s fingers swept up more cum from his chest, and this time he sucked them in deep, to their very base, wishing it was Shikamaru’s dick instead.

“Oh, fuck, Neji,” cursed Shikamaru, jerking Neji’s hand from his mouth and kissing him again. The shadow nin rolled off him as they kissed, turning them on their sides. The kiss gradually slowed, and then they were both laying on their backs, holding hands, recovering.

Neji just drifted, lost in the moment, until he felt a bug crawling on his thigh. He brushed it off, and then it started to sink in that he, Hyuuga Neji, really was lying there in the small field with his clothes ruined—stained from grass, dirt, sweat, and cum. His body, face, and hair were sticky, and he probably should feel uncomfortable and annoyed. Yet, he couldn’t care, and he felt light and happy, like he’d been drinking or just won a fight—or had the sluttiest, sexiest, hottest sexual encounter of his life.

He rolled on his side and looked at Shikamaru again. Yes, yes, yes—he made the right choice. Now, he could use a shower, a drink, then a bed and more Shikamaru. Absolutely, more Shikamaru--Neji wanted to see his ass, to see his back, to lick and kiss and play with that lithe, tan body beside him. He would take this sexy ninja—oh, fuck, where?

“Practice area #33?” said Shikamaru, smiling up at Neji. Oh, god, what a smile—how wicked, how sexy, that looked. He’d never seen Shikamaru look like this before. And how the hell had he known what Neji was thinking? Was the rumor true that the Nara could read minds?

One of Shikamaru’s thin dark eyebrows arched, and Neji felt himself blush a little. Oh, yeah, he was supposed to say something. What had Shikamaru said—practice area #33? Ah, of course, the secluded waterfall there. Long ago some ninjas had shaped the area at the base to a small pool, spilling gently into a little crick. It was perfect for washing, swimming, and of course fucking—the fresh water poured down in an endless shower and the movement of the water kept it from stagnating and smelling. On the down side, there were also tigers, bears, snakes, boars, and—if the rumors were true—ANBU who were training for interrogation and torture. It was no Forest of Death, like area #44, where ninja had died training alone, but everyone knew someone who had a friend of a friend who’d been raped in area #33. But they were both jounins, both called “genius” by others, and both from powerful families. And he’d been too stupid to get an apartment before trying to get his lover.

“Sure,” said Neji—and Shikamaru’s hand grasped his arm, and he transported them right under the waterfall.

“Fuck!” screamed Neji as the cold water hit him. He moved back from the waterfall with the speed of a shinobi and glared at Shikamaru from the shallow edge of the pool. Shikamaru just grinned at him, leaning against the rocks, letting the cold water cascade over him. His simple black clothes clung to him, but Neji could tell they would dry perfectly, and no one would ever guess that the jounin had spent his day off frotting in a field and washing up at one of Konoha’s more notorious spots.

Neji looked down at himself and disgusted, summoned a kunai and sliced off the wet, stained mess that was left of his clothing. He wasn’t really annoyed, but when he caught Shikamaru’s pleased smirk at his nudity, he sent the kunai flying at his crotch. The shadow nin laughed and caught it, raising it up to his head and slicing away the band from his ponytail.

That was when time suddenly seemed to slow down for Neji. The water splashing over the rocks hit that gravity-defying ponytail. Shikamaru’s hair seemed to fan out and then flutter down to his shoulders as slowly as a leaf falling from a tree. Where the kunai ended up next, Neji didn’t know or care. There before him was THE perfect man.

III. Surprises

Shikamaru’s head shook, and wet, shoulder-length hair flew around scattering water that the lowering sun made shine. Or maybe those mangas were always right to draw the pretty boy with sparkles all over him, though Neji. He must have sex goggles on because that sparking, stunning, sexy, smart-looking guy there was Nara Shikamaru. Fuck, though, anyone under that waterfall could look hot, but this man before Neji was beautiful. This was Shikamaru with his face awake and smiling without a trace of its usual boredom, sleepiness, ennui, or cynicism. Those beautiful, small black eyes were looking at him so intently, and his lips were saying something, but for the first time in his life, Neji was so overwhelmed by the sense of being in presence of THE perfect guy that he couldn’t, just couldn’t, both look and hear.

It was suddenly so obvious, Neji couldn’t see how he not seen that Shikamaru hid his sexiness, his beauty, his heart, and his strength behind a deceptively dowdy and lazy exterior. It seemed unfathomable that someone would deliberately try to look worse that he or she could—Naras, wow, Naras were not like Hyuugas at all, Neji concluded. That was a lesson he constantly needed to remember, the Hyuuga worldview was not the whole world’s view.

“I didn’t know,” Neji heard himself blurt out. He felt a blush coming on and started to control it using his chakra—then stopped. If Shikamaru was showing his hidden side, Neji would too. Like most Hyuugas, he hid his imperfections, his curse seal, and, most importantly, his feelings. Yes, he hid a lot under a cold, hard beauty that he’d shed this afternoon from the moment he pounced on Shikamaru, letting himself get dirty and messy and naked and slutty . . .

Shikamaru straightened and moved forward, through the cold, flowing sheet of water, towards Neji. Even as he passed through the waterfall, his cock rose up, flushed and full, and just fucking perfect. The wet shadow nin moved slowly, gracefully, and confidently forward. Neji blinked, shook his head, activiated his Byakugan and then stopped. He must look ridiculous, blushing, acting like he never seen a sexy man before . . . and how insulting he was being . . . “I’m sorry--I didn’t know—“

“Know what, Neji?”

“How sexy you are—you could have anyone if you’d just show them . . .” Oh, god, that wasn’t what he should have said, thought Neji, his mind blanking on what to say next.

But for a moment, there was the normal Shikamaru again, his irritated face and that familiar shrug saying quite plainly it was too troublesome to be sexy, to be wanted.

But then those dark eyes were on him, on Neji’s nakedness--his nakedness of both body and emotions. Shikamaru licked his lips, and Neji gulped and bit his bottom lip.

“I’ve shown you, Neji,” said Shikamaru in a voice just loud enough to be heard over the cascading water. “Can I have you?”

Neji felt his head nodding, nodding yes even when he wasn’t quite sure what Nara was asking, and he stood still as Shikamaru’s hands explored him. It was just bizarre, unreal, that Nara Shikamaru, the notorious lazy ninja that found everything troublesome was taking the trouble to touch him everywhere.

Those elegant, strong hands that made hand signs so fast and worked the Nara shadow jutsus with strength and power were now working over him. They moved slow and sure, tracing his eyebrows, exploring the notch at the base of his throat, running over his collarbones. Fingertips traced his lips, rolled over his nipples, and explored his belly button. Hands warmed Neji’s cold balls, sending blood rushing into his penis, which seemed to rise up and offer itself to the hands that stroked his thighs and caressed his now loose testicles, then tugged and rolled the skin around his balls.

Neji inhaled sharply, surprised that the slight pain felt so good. He could feel a grittiness on his stomach and ribs—the dried semen there needed some scrubbing, as did the hair Shikamaru’s hands went to next. They lifted his wet hair, squeezing the water out, stroking over the length, pulling all of it forward to hang down over Neji’s chest.

Neji bit his lip again, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and his dick jumped, wanting those hands on itself. One of those long-fingered hands of Shikamaru moved back from his hair to his skin—but not to the skin where Neji wanted, only to his chest. A sharp pinch on one nipple made Neji jerk, but even as he pulled back his body a bit, he was suppressing a moan that wanted to come out of his throat. His cock bounced again, straining towards Shikamaru.

Their eyes met again, and Neji felt like he needed to get control of things, but Shikamaru’s eyes were on his hair, then his hands slid down the back of Neji’s head, rubbed a little at the back of Neji’s neck before they encircled the hair hanging over each of Neji’s shoulders. Shikamaru’s wrists rested on his collarbones, and Neji could feel each fist against his neck.

Then Shikamaru’s head rolled back, his eyelids dropping, his mouth open—he’d looked like that jerking himself with Neji’s sperm. Shikamaru’s gasp and shiver suddenly told Neji that Shikamaru really, really wanted him—or at least his hair.

“You like my hair, a lot, don’t you, Shika-kun?” said Neji, a little surprised at how sexy his voice sounded.

“Yesss,” moaned Shikamaru, making Neji’s sex voice seem like a croaking crow.

Then the shadow nin’s hand moved slowly down each hank of Neji’s long hair: the fists opening and fingers splaying over the hair, pressing it against Neji’s skin, stroking hair and body, down over his chest, his ribs, his hips, then his upper thigh, and curving in, at last to touch balls and cock.

Hands and his hair, precum, movement, and then Shikamaru’s cock there too, the hands moving faster. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck . . . the tugs on the roots of his hair, the shocking sight of his hair—his fucking hair—around their cocks and balls. He’d never—why had he never—

“Ahhhhh,” moaned Shikamaru, and Neji’s hands went to the Nara’s shoulders, tensing, just getting ready to push the damn fucking perverted Nara away . . . there was something wrong, something, no someone—

Sharingan—summon weapons—Uchicha?

No, no, oh.

Kakashi.

Pathetic, sadly pathetic, thought Neji. A ridiculous waste of Kakashi’s chakra, as the Sharingan drained it.

They stood there, the three of them: Kakashi’s red eye now stilled and covered as usual; Shikamaru his cock and balls back in his pants and his hair back up in that ponytail; Neji, Byakugan still activated, clothed in only his hitae-ate and the black wrap he normally wore over his white tunic and pants.

Crap, though Neji, crap, crap, crap. He was the only one still in a fighting stance, and, rather ridiculously, he somehow hadn’t summoned his entire uniform. While his ass was covered, the white-banded slit in the front of his black wrap was making clear he was, well, quite male and quite hard. But he was a Hyuuga, so he sniffed, turned up his nose, folded his arms across his chest, and tossed his hair back over his shoulders.

But shadow hands suddenly jerked the black fabric around his waist so the open slit was at his hip. Shocked, Neji’s head snapped around, but before he could think what to say to the first non-Hyuuga who’d dared to correct his clothing, Shikamaru spoke. His voice was barely audible over the splashing of the waterfall, and all he said was “Kakashi,” but Neji had to suppress a shiver. This was the real Shikamaru speaking with a steel-hard voice, a voice that’s quiet slowness screamed out to any experienced shinobi to take what it said very, very seriously.

“Mine,” said Shikamaru. Neji had to use his chakra control to keep his cock from rising up in another little touch-me-Shikamaru-bounce, but what made him suddenly enraged was the fact that Kakashi’s cock gave a little salute too. The almost-360-degree vision of his Byakugan not only showed every single one of the 361 chakra release points on a body, but it let him know the movement of every one of those release points, even those he didn’t need to watch for in a fight.

He transported behind Shikamaru, his arms around the shadow nin, with not a millimeter of space between the Nara’s back and Neji’s front. He knew he didn’t need to even say a word to the famous copy ninja, the gesture and his stare was enough.

“Oh, eh, well,” said Kakashi, “I didn’t know.” The scarecrow-thin ninja raised his hand and rubbed the back of his head, looking deceptively harmless. “I’m late for a meeting. I’ll just have to tell the Fifth, I saw two hot jounins jerking each other wrapped in hair so off limits, that more people have seen beneath my mask than have so much as felt a lock of it. Obviously, I had to stop and use my Sharingan on it.”

Neji didn’t need his Byakugan to know that Shikamaru was silently laughing; he could feel it through his body. The dangerous shadow nin with the sexy, steely voice had vanished again.

“I know a cute little chuunin who wants to see beneath that mask and loves this pool,” said Shikamaru slowly, but with the slowness of a man that couldn’t bother to speak faster. “He swims like a little dolphin, and his hair is sexy, although shorter than my—lover’s hair.”

Neji’s cock moved against Shikamaru’s back, and his arms tightened around the man who had just called him lover. Lover. He had a lover.

“But that just means, you need to get your cock a lot closer to his head, Kakashi,” continued Shikamaru with a lazy calmness that was just wrong when Neji’s heart was beating so fast, he needed to fight or fuck or just . . .

Shikamaru was talking to empty air, and Neji just did what he needed—he pinned Shikamaru against a huge rock at the deeper side of the pool, ripping those sexy black pants down. His fist was around that ponytail, holding that head, so he could bite down on the neck beneath his lips. He rubbed his cock down between Shikamaru’s asscheeks, pushed into that tight juncture between ass, pants, and balls. His hand grasped Shikamaru’s hip and jerked that bottom back enough so he wouldn’t crush his lover’s cock and balls on the rough stone.

The adrenaline in his body convinced him that anal sex was overrated and took too much time. Neji’s cock moved between flesh and fabric, hard muscle and soft skin. The water was cold, but their bodies were hot, and Neji’s cock slid back and forth as his mouth sucked and bit and licked over Shikamaru’s neck and shoulders.

Yes, yes, mine, fucking my Shikamaru, not Kakashi’s, never Kakashi’s. These thighs squeezing around my cock, won’t spread for anyone else again, not Genma, not Kiba, not Chouji, no one but me, thought Neji, each thrust and bite making him want another and another.

“I’m getting us a place tomorrow, Nara, and you’re living in it with me. You’re going to go out with me, wearing what I buy you,” Neji growled out, “You’re going to fucking dance with me, eat with me, and endure the fucking hell of a Hyuuga wedding with me.”

Shikamaru’s head and body bucked up, and somehow Neji found himself only holding the hairband from that damn ponytail. But his cock was pinned tight under Shikamaru’s balls, and thigh muscles rippled around it.

Shikamaru’s head and hair was back against his shoulder. Their lips met, and Neji felt his hair jerked forward and once more it was around Shikamaru’s cock.

“Fuck!” Neji cried out, breaking the kiss as pain and pleasure overwhelmed him together. He was coming as Shikamaru moaned, masturbating himself with long Hyuuga hair. Neji’s back wanted to arch as he shot out his sperm, and his head wanted to fall back, but the fist and cock fucking with his hair pulled his head forward instead. He saw over Shikamaru’s shoulder, saw under the strands of his hair, saw the shadow nin’s cock, that perfect cock, moving in his hair, using that elegant, strong hand once more. But this was better, much better than the first time he’d watched his new lover jerk off because his mouth was sucking in Shikamaru’s skin, his body feeling Shikamaru’s moans and movements, and it was more, more than just two strangers getting off.

And maybe it was that line about a cock near a face, and maybe it was just knowing that it was Shikamaru’s fantasy, his dream, but Neji slid down the shadow nin’s body. They turned together, and Neji opened his mouth as Shikamaru cried out and thrust his cock deep inside. And came.

Fortunately, Neji’s body seemed to know what to do—his chakra and muscle control kept him from choking, let him relax his throat to take more cock than he’d ever had in his mouth right inside and down his throat. He swallowed and knew that not breathing was just temporary. The fact that his hair was around the cock in his throat was too surreal to process--and, really, completely unimportant given the look on Shikamaru’s face. That was more than just lust, than just want.

So Neji, genius that he was, used his throat muscles to milk more from the balls pressed against his chin. He sucked and took and let his eyes tell his lover that this was more for him too.

And when Shikamaru pulled out and let Neji breathe, Neji pushed his hair down the softening shaft, moving his hand over his hair and Shikamaru’s balls. His tongue and his mouth caressed the head, making Shikamaru gasp and shudder. Suddenly a tongue stud seemed a damn fine idea to Neji, and he used his tongue and mouth on the head and top of the shaft while his hand and his hair twisted and played at the root.

This little oral eagerness was Neji’s thanks for the hands that had moved on him, for the gift of Shikamaru’s energy, for his actions this afternoon that said clearly that Neji was important, very important to Shikamaru and very, very wanted. There was something wrong with Neji’s logic, he sensed, but having come twice with someone else after six months of celibacy, well, he just was sucking this cock. It was the cock he’d want his to be, just this thick, just this long, just . . . the cock, the cock he wanted.

“Neji, Neji, fuck, Neji,” moaned Shikamaru, “You are going to be so troublesome, so fucking, wondrously troublesome.”

Neji choked because even he couldn’t suck cock, snort, and laugh at the same time. His teeth scraped Shikamaru, and they pulled apart.

Shikamaru sighed and rolled his eyes.

And Neji let himself fall back in the water and laugh. Then he just let himself float on the water, looking up at the clouds. Shikamaru vanished under the water, then surfaced beside him. A hand grasped his. Neji’s mouth curved in a smile as he watched a bird fly overhead, free to fly wherever it wanted. Today, he could smile and not feel envious of that bird.

“I want to be the only one to see you smile like that,” said Shikamaru.

“Hmmph,” was all came out of Neji’s mouth.

Then there was only the sound of the waterfall as they floated and looked up at the trees, the sky, the clouds, and an occasional bird.
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Neji Makes a Change