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After Dinner	By : Hestia Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Shikamaru/Neji Views: 3747 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-After Dinner
- 1
“After Dinner”
“I-I-ah-ah-“ Hinata blushed and darted glances between Neji and Shikamaru nervously, unable to continue.
Shikamaru was sprawled in the soft armchair with his feet up on the matching ottoman in front of him. His tiny glass of after dinner port was still partially full.
Neji sat in the matching armchair, upright. His feet were on the floor before him. The ottoman to his chair had been moved after dinner by Lee, who had sat upon it before leaving some ten minutes earlier with Sakura. The sofa was empty except for Hinata, having been abandoned by Ino and Ten-Ten, twenty minutes ago, when Chouji and Shino had left. Kiba had left a half an hour ago, with Neji’s two non-ninja third cousins, the pretty twins Aiko and Eiko. He’d invited the twins to his first dinner party to even out the numbers of men and women: six each, twelve total. Fortunately Naruto was off with Kakashi training.
Up to this point, Neji knew his party had been a success. It was difficult to pull off a dinner for twelve in a new apartment with no servants, but he’d had Hinata, Aiko, and Eiko helping with the serving and clearing. It was, despite his jounin status, his first apartment outside of the Hyuuga compound. He’d planned this, his first official party, carefully. His female family members were a great help, but also would be reporting back to the family everything that happened.
Fortunately, he had more than family helping him. Lee and Ten-Ten, his old teammates, had made sure the conversation had never lagged. Shino, while contributing nothing to the discussion, had discretely used his bugs in the kitchen to remove all the food left on the plates, so that washing them would be easy. Kiba was so intent on trying to impress the twins, he’d not told one bawdy story or brought up anything inappropriate. Sakura had sparkled, enjoying herself and tolerating Lee’s worship and flattery rather better than Neji had expected. Ino had focused on keeping Chouji from devouring too much, but Neji knew to whom he owed Chouji’s mild appetite: Shikamaru. He taken Chouji out for pre-dinner barbeque, bless him.
“Well, I-I, ah, I—“ Hinata tried again, failing.
The perfect dinner party was starting to derail. Neji forced himself to smile and said to Hinata, “Hinata-sama, I think you said that you had an early appointment tomorrow, didn’t you?”
“Y-yes, Neji-kun, but, but—“ stammered Hinata.
Neji rose to the occasion and managed to make Hinata feel like he needed to talk to Shikamaru alone. It took only ten minutes—when he expected at least twenty—to get his cousin to leave. The problem was that Hinata had not only not wanted to leave him alone with Shikamaru, but had also wanted to help him wash up the dishes, deal with the table linens, and probably rearrange the furniture. Neji hadn’t realized that was her plan and went from mildily resenting the lazy, silent nin resisting all normal social cues that it was time to go to once more mentally blessing him for staying.
When Neji finally shut the door behind Hinata and turned around, he was even more grateful and a little embarrassed. He not even registered the chakra used by Shikamaru to slightly rearrange the furniture, nor Shikamaru moving to recline on the sofa. Hinata’s “quick” exit was certainly due to the message his last guest had sent without saying a word.
And what was that message? Two close, no, very close friends wanted to relax and play a game together. One armchair was drawn up to the coffee table at the end of the sofa where Shikamaru’s head lay. His little glass of port was full again, as was Neji’s, and the shogi board was there open although the pieces weren’t on the board. The ottoman to the armchair was there beside the coffee table, perfect if Neji decided to put his feet up, for he certainly wouldn’t put his feet on the coffee table. Nor would he ever put his feet on the sofa, either. In fact, only Shikamaru, Naruto, or Kakashi would ever do such a thing. Not that Kakashi would ever have a reason to visit, and as much as Neji liked Naruto, he wasn’t sure he wanted the hyperactive blonde visiting. But Shikamaru was not only visiting, he was there on the sofa with his feet bare, like he lived here.
“You did buy this sofa for guests to sleep on, didn’t you, Neji-kun?” asked Shikamaru.
Neji nodded, a little stunned at the question. Logically, it suggested Shikamaru wanted to sleep over, but that was hardly logical. Wait. Was Shikamaru trying to remind him that people who slept on the sofa put their feet on the sofa? Or was he trying to—to—seduce him?
Shikamaru stared at him intently, and Neji looked back—and looked down Shikamaru’s body draped over his couch like it was his own and back up. God, did he really just do that? Yes, he must have for Shikamaru raised one elegant eyebrow and his lips curved a little. And then Shikamaru gave Neji the full “elevator eyes” treatment. His dark eyes slowly moved over Neji’s face, then swept over his chest, sinking lower, lingering, then lower, observing his legs and feet for what seemed much too long, then climbing at an interminably slow pace back up to Neji’s pale eyes.
Neji could feel his pale skin reddening and his heartbeat quickening. What? What was going on? Why did those little black eyes of Shikamaru’s look so intense, so fierce?
“Play with me, Neji-kun,” said Shikamaru.
Neji’s body, well, tightened. It was normal, really, he told himself. He was a virile man with sexual needs and such a slutty comment after that eye sex, well, any virile man would flinch and, ah, well, stiffen a little. He had just a little extra blood in his cock, not a full on hard-on.
Shikamaru licked his lips, murmuring, “Delicious.”
Neji’s nostrils flared as his cock decided it felt quite delicious. No, this was not going to happen.
Shikamaru picked up the glass of port, sniffed it, saying, “Chocolate orange port, really quite delicious” before sipping a little.
Sipping? What Shikamaru was doing with the liquid in his mouth was a hell of a lot more than sipping.
It was, well, sexy—no, it was beyond sexy, it was slutty. Shikamaru wasn’t sipping that port, he was savoring it, it was, it was—fuck, he looked like he had just got a mouthful of cum from his lover! Was he hard, too? Neji activated his Byakugan without thinking and discovered, yes indeed, the bulge in Shikamaru’s pants was a cock as happy as his.
Then Neji experienced a bout of madness—because everything that happened next just was so impossible and improbable it was, logically, quite mad. He was standing there between the sofa and the coffee table, his erection obviously tenting his silk pants, looking down at Shikamaru whose mouth was open, his tongue moving, pink and wet. No host did that. No Hyuuga did that. A moan floated up to him, and Neji could see Shikamaru’s chakra was flowing and moving.
“Fuck my face,” moaned Shikamaru.
Nara Shikamaru would never say that. Neji was obviously hallucinating. But he made his decision on how to respond before he could think—that was how a shinobi had to respond to sudden insanity, of course. Neji released his Byukugan and used his chakra to strip himself. He put one knee down on the sofa, then jerked out the back cushion, and straddled Shikamaru. One hand grabbed that ponytail as the other held his penis out. Those dark eyes made love to him as that pink tongue and pink mouth moved over his cockhead.
“Slut,” growled Neji, “suck me.”
Hyuuga Neji would never say that. But he had, and hands moved up and jerked his hips forward—and Neji’s cock slid in and in—deep. And Shikamaru sucked.
“Shikamaru-kun! Oh, fuck! Sweet—ohhh!” There were probably more words, more incoherent things that came out of his mouth, but Neji wasn’t registering them anymore. He was fucking Shikamaru’s face, thrusting his hips in, his one hand gripping the arm above Shikamaru’s head, the other still clinging to that ponytail that Neji would never see the same way again.
Hands were on his ass squeezing and clinging. Shikamaru’s eyes were drinking him in, but Neji couldn’t focus on them—his cock going in and out of that open mouth was mesmerizing. The feeling, fuck—nothing, nothing had ever felt this good around his cock before. And then a warm, wet finger plunged in his ass, shocking him as shadow hands suddenly were there holding down his wrists that tried to fly back and pull away that hand. Shikamaru’s throat vibrated around his cock, his tongue pushing out into his pubic hair as if trying to reach for his balls. The finger in his ass hit his prostate, and Neji’s mouth opened in a silent scream as his balls emptied—his cock was shooting his sperm deep into Shikamaru’s throat, right inside him. And beneath him Shikamaru was shaking and moaning, swallowing, sucking, and Neji could move his hands again, but all he did was break the damn tie on the ponytail and claw his hands through the stiff brown locks.
Shikamaru’s face was getting red, and he clearly needed more air—Neji pulled back, watching his cock slide out.
“Neji-“ breathed out Shikamaru, and Neji shoved his cock back in and down that throat, cutting off whatever else was about to be said and spraying one last spurt of cum in that superb hot, tight wetness. His name, with no honorific, bare, naked—bare and naked like his body—made him suddenly need to see Shikamaru naked.
He pulled his cock out, loving the way Shikamaru’s mouth and tongue savored his shaft, and used his chakra to put them in the center of his king bed, without Shikamaru’s clothes.
But Shikamaru had used his chakra too and handed him a tube of lube.
“Fuck me,” he moaned.
“Slut,” growled Neji, jerking Shikamaru’s legs apart and settling in between them. One of Shikamaru’s hands reached down towards his cock, and Neji slapped it away, before securing each wrist to bedpost with rope reinforced with chakra over two silk handkerchiefs wrapped around each slim, but strong wrist. Feeling inspired, he improvised a cock ring with one of the silk ropes that tied back his bedroom drapes.
Then he showed Shikamaru what a genius could do with lube and his fingers, until his own cock was good and hard again. He took his time, teasing Shikamaru’s cock, his balls, and shoving his fingers in that mouth that had sucked him like no other. He played with the stiff, brown hair around Shikamaru’s head and teased the soft brown curls on his chest, under his arms, and around his cock. He drove in deep, in shallow, playing with angles, finding how to hit Shikamaru’s prostate with his cock, but not bothering to keep at it—no, it was more fun to torment him.
Letting his own long hair fall down and slid over Shikamaru’s skin drove him wild. Spanking Shikamaru’s red cock with a handful of his hair made him incoherent. Sucking his nipple while still moving in him made him whimper. But kissing him, kissing him made him beg.
“Neji-kun, please, please, oh god, please,” he gasped out, each word making Neji harder and hornier.
His kisses grew more savage, his thrusts harder and faster, and tears formed in Shikamaru’s eyes. Neji found himself coming again—and tears rolled down Shikamaru’s face. Some emotion filled Neji, something unnameable, and he kissed Shikamaru frantically, and as his own tremors and shaking ended, he licked and kissed at the tear trails. A sob rose from Shikamaru’s face, and Neji murmured, “Shhh, baby, shhh, my Shikamaru-chan,” licking and kissing over the tears and lips and throat while summoning three towels.
He pulled out, wiping himself with one, putting the other under Shikamaru, and dabbing around Shikamaru’s red, wet, asshole with the other. Then he undid the cruel little tie that had made Shikamaru’s purple-red cock unable to come, careful not to touch it. Another sob came from Shikamaru’s throat, and wet, black eyes begged him.
Neji said, “Come for me, Shikamaru-chan,” then bent his head down, intending to give his new lover the best blow job he’d ever given. But the minute his lips closed around the swollen purple head, Shikamaru’s orgasm finally came. Neji sucked and twirled his tongue around as he swallowed, and Shikamaru let out a strangled scream, undid his wrists, and his hands came down, grasping Neji’s head and hair. It seemed to Neji that Shikamaru’s whole body was orgasming--rippling and flexing, glistening with sweat, red with arousal, shaking—and spewing: cum from his cock, tears from his eyes, saliva and sobs from his mouth. Even Neji’s own spunk was being squeezed into the towel beneath it. Shikamaru writhed and pulled at locks of Neji’s hair, dragging thick strands up his body. One hand rubbed the hair over a nipple, the other pulled the ends into his mouth, sucking the hair and the fingers in, making Neji himself shake at the sight and suck harder at Shikamaru’s cock.
He didn’t want it to end, and Neji found himself licking and kissing Shikamaru’s penis as it softened, then licking and kissing his balls, and pulling away part of the towel, to look at the pink hole that had given him the best fuck of his life. His cum, his cum was what was making that hole wet, and the hole winked and fluttered and pushed out more of his seed. Tugs on his hair and incoherent moans, made him smile, and Neji suddenly wanted push a butt plug in that twitching little starburst. He didn’t even own a butt plug or any sex toys for that matter.
“Bring a butt plug with you next time, little slut,” he said as he slid a finger into Shikamaru, “I want you hold my sperm inside until I tell you to let it out.”
Shikamaru made a weird sound and vanished with a puff of smoke. Neji froze, shocked. He blinked at his finger, extended out from the others, coated with his cum. A second ago it had been in Shikamaru’s butt. His cock had been in Shikamaru’s butt—and in Shikamaru’s mouth and throat. His tongue had been in that mouth—and on Shikamaru’s face, in his ear, on his nipples, in his navel, on Shikamaru’s cock. And cock, balls, butt, face, ear, mouth, the whole fucking body was gone, gone without a fucking word.
And now here he was alone with his spunk and some dirty towels and sweaty bed sheets and a kitchen full of bug-licked dishes. Neji rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling. He had no idea how long he stared at that ceiling, but it seemed like a long, long time.
Shikamaru reappeared with a poof, saying, “Sorry, I—ah, had, to go, and I panicked. I couldn’t remember where your bathroom was, so I used mine. Ah, and I brought, ah, well, you can look at it later.”
Neji rolled on his side and cocked up an eyebrow at Shikamaru. His new lover had managed to not only use the toilet, but take a shower, restyle his hair, brush his teeth, and was wearing a tight pair of navy gym shorts that looked like the ones they’d used as kids at the academy. Neji held back a little smile and slowly examined Shikamaru from the top of his ponytail to his naked toes. Then he took in the things around his feet—his backpack and a duffle. He looked over at the smaller bag that Shikamaru had dropped saying Neji could look at it later. It didn’t require Neji’s genius to know that Shikamaru had brought over his work gear, an overnight bag, and his bag of sex toys.
“Are you wanting me to tie you up again and punish you?” asked Neji.
Shikamara tilted his head, shut his eyes, and thought about it.
Neji held back a laugh.
His last dinner guest sighed again, saying, “I’ll need a nap and coffee first, but I could be up for it.”
Neji let a sound that was part snort, part gasp, part chuckle, and maybe part sigh. He had too many emotions to feel any emotions, which was just insane enough of state to be in that it was perfect for the unreality that was happening right now. He sat up and shook his hair into place. He stretched, rolled over, and got out of the other side of the bed. In other words, he let Shikamaru see just how sexy Hyuuga Neji was. He didn’t look back as he went into the bathroom, nor did he bother to shut the door. The open door made very clear that the sexy man that walked in here, lived here. This was his place, his domain, and Shikamaru was fucking lucky.
Neji washed and soaked, relaxing in the warm water. He almost nodded off and shook himself awake. It didn’t take long to finish up and move into the bedroom. Shikamaru wasn’t in the bedroom, but he’d changed the sheets and pulled down the covers. The bed looked awesome—Neji was tempted to just crawl in it and crash.
He pulled on a pair of silk boxers and went into the living room. It was straightened, and there wasn’t a sign of his clothes, the shogi board, or the drink glasses. He moved into the small kitchen, where Shikamaru was cleaning a few last pots. Drying dishes were everywhere. Neji moved up behind Shikamaru and pressed his body against his. His head felt good on Shikamaru’s shoulder.
He watched the shadow nin finish the pots and clean the sink. But the second Shikamaru had dried his hands, he jutsu’d them right to the bed and shut the lights out. But when he pulled Shikamaru’s head onto his chest, his silly ponytail was in his face. Neji pulled the tie out and pushed the hair down, stroking it around Shikamaru, and letting his hands run over his shoulders and back.
“Ummmmmm,” Shikamaru purred, and Neji felt a kiss on his chest and hand reach up and pull a long hank of his hair down over his chest. Shikamaru twisted the hair over his hand and pulled it close to his cheek, snuggling into Neji with another soft sound. Neji smiled and threaded his hand into Shikamaru’s hair, resting his hand on the head lying on his chest. He moved his thumb, stroking Shikamaru’s scalp listening to him falling asleep.
This wasn’t supposed to be how his first dinner party ended. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe it hadn’t happened. Neji rolled his head a little away from Shikamaru to feel how his hair was anchored in Shikamaru’s hand. He rolled his to the other side and pushed his face down into Shikamaru’s hair, smelling it, feeling it. It was real. And his legs, stomach, back, and arms felt well exercised—like he’d given them a work out fucking like crazy. Crazy, crazy, it was all too crazy . . . and comfy . . . warm . . . homey.
Homey?
Hyuuga’s didn’t have homes—they lived in mansions, compounds, residences, or elegant, residential apartments.
Shikamaru let out a soft snore, and Neji tightened his arms around him. He activated his Byakugan, identifying all the chakra signatures in the building and in the streets around as well. He could see the chakra in his wards were active; his apartment was secure. He’d always check before falling asleep—Hyuuga habit. What he loved about his apartment was how little chakra his neighbors had. It was interesting sleeping in a place were he didn’t have to worry about family members teaming up and surprising him. No one around here had enough chakra to be a threat—except for Shikamaru—his chakra was strong, even beautiful. He was a brilliant team leader, a superior strategist, and notoriously lazy. And he’d cleaned Neji’s dishes, dishes for a dinner of twelve. And he’d begged and sobbed for him, come for him, and was clinging to him even in his sleep. He was sleeping in his arms—it was insane.
And good.
Really good.
Homey.
Hmmmm.
A homey Hyuuga home—insane.
Neji breathed deeply and nuzzled his head into Shikamaru’s hair again.
“Mmmmmmm,” murmured Shikamaru in his sleep.
“Mmmmmmm,” agreed Neji. That was the perfect word for it—mmmmmm. And then he fell asleep.
- 1
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After Dinner