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"You're not shocked?" Shikamaru says, slipping his underwear off all the way.
"Nah, it just makes it easier," Temari says, pulling a dildo out of her backpack.
That answer doesn’t sit right, but Shikamaru can’t find it in him to press her. He’s still seated at the head of his rickety twin bed, skin flushed and bruised from their foreplay. There’s a tightness between his thighs begging for attention, but his focus is wrapped around the instrument in Temari’s cloying grasp.
Considering its owner, the dildo’s...unsurprisingly imposing. Strapless, with a heavy bulbed base and thick, twirling ridges along the lilac shaft. That, Shikamaru suddenly comes to grips with— that’s going to be inside him. Inside her , too. Any minute now.
Where did she even get that from? He imagines her striding into some dusty narrow shop, tucked into a far corner of Suna’s domed cityscape. Unfazed by the nerve-wracked attendant, who squirms in his seat because the Kazekage’s sister has deigned to darken his curio-ware doorstep. Did she ask for recommendations, or did she know exactly what she was looking for? Had she bought from them before? Had she used it before?
He gets a sort-of answer when a dull thrum fills his tiny jounin apartment. Pupils blown wide, Shikamaru fixates on his girlfriend’s calloused thumb teasing at the metal switch on the dildo’s base. Her expression flits from placid to ravenous as the vibrations increase in volume. A new purchase, then. Never tested. Bought especially for them .
Something in Shikamaru’s chest softens at the thought, and his eyes wander to take in the whole of Temari Sabaku. Maybe the love of his life, who he hasn’t seen in months, and never like this . She’s leaning against his half dresser. Her blissfully naked form half silhouetted by what pallid moonlight pours through his room’s tattered shutters. One tawney, manicured hand drums a steady beat on the dresser’s wooden top. Her straw-blonde hair is loose from their usual pony tails, the tips just curling over the crest of her freckled shoulders. Shikamaru’s tongue darts between his lips as his gaze traces each war-won scar along the curve of her breasts, the slope of her waist, and the swell of her thighs. One scar— it looks new, crimson and shimmering— bisects the muscled plane of her stomach towards the jut of her hip, and as Shikamaru’s gaze trails, he idly notes that her ankles must be crossed. Because the beautiful dark curls between her thighs are barely concealed behind...
“Oi, Nara.”
Shikamaru finally blinks. Realises that his jaw’s gone slack. That he’s balled up his boxer shorts in a fist so tight his knuckles ache.
“You’re staring again,” The words roll off Temari’s tongue like glass marbles, clattering to the slatted floor and snapping Shikamaru’s full attention to the wicked curve of her lips.
Might be the third time she’s caught him like that tonight. Okay, Shikamaru, say something. Use your brain and say something cool.
“...uh huh.”
Fuck.
Temari’s lips purse, her eyebrows raise, and suddenly she’s barking out a laugh loud enough to let everyone else in the barracks know she’s over for a night-time rendezvous. Scowling, Shikamaru tries to will down the fierce blush blooming from his ears to his chest. When that doesn’t work, he drags his legs up tight, buries his forehead in the crook of his knees—
Something thumps on the mattress. Then something else much heavier.
And Temari’s firm hands rip his knees apart.
“H-hey—!”
“You’re not getting cold feet on me…?” Temari taunts, sliding her oddly free hands down the inner sides of Shikamaru’s legs, thumbs scraping along the base of his thighs.
Suddenly, all earlier his uneasiness, his worries, his fears, rip back through him.
Shikamaru’s hands fly to meet hers, pry them from his skin as his eyes bare down on the sex between his legs. Temari freezes in place. Shikamaru doesn’t move either, save the wild hammering in his chest.
Although her arms are still in the way, his knees try to close shut around them.
Temari’s wrists twist. She takes Shikamaru’s forearms gently in her palms, and slides her fingers down to twine his with her own.
“...are you?” She adds, her voice a whisper, cautious and insistent all the same.
Shikamaru tips his head up to answer, but bumps the tip of his nose against hers. Black eyes meet sea glass green. There’s the faintest crease between her brow, and her lower lids are crinkled with worry. He wants to tell her no, just to ease the rising tension in her setting jaw, but the words catch in his throat.
Temari shakes her hands free, slides one up the breadth of his rib cage. Shikamaru gasps a quick breath as her thumb skates across his love bitten chest, gently flicks at a pebbled nipple. Slowly, she pushes him down to the mattress, slots herself between his spreading legs, and presses an unusually chaste kiss to his chapped lips. When she pulls away, it’s only by a hair, a deadly serious question evident in her countenance.
Shikamaru’s brows furrow, and after a moment, he finally manages one of his typical ragged groans.
Temari clicks her tongue. “What?” She insists, somehow crowding even closer. He turns his head to stare at the wall, but her other arm comes down to block his view. “What? ”
Undeterred, Shikamaru buries his eyeline in the soft flesh of her forearm. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself, and then another.
“What you said earlier…” He mumbles, fingers ghosting along her sides to trace hesitant curls. “What did you mean?”
Temari’s quiet for a moment. But soon, he feels her body descend to rest flush against his own. He keeps his eyes closed as a sand-beaten palm cups his cheek, as a strong arm snakes beneath him, squeezes him tight. He only chances a peek when her face is fully nestled at the crook of his neck, kiss swollen lips fluttering against his sensitive skin.
“...that wasn’t the reaction you wanted.”
It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Uttered in such an uncharacteristically regretful way that a tight burst of shame twists in Shikamaru’s belly. His hands stutter where they’ve rested on her shoulder blades, but he musters the courage to let one travel up the mottled curve of her spine to the nape of her neck. To tug lightly at the baby hairs and scratch lightly at her scalp. Temari hums, nestling in closer. She presses a soft kiss to the column of his throat. “‘m sorry... I—”
“Nah, don’t be.” Shikamaru interrupts, taking Temari’s hand from his cheek and placing them both in her eye line, over his heart.
“But—”
“I should’ve told you sooner.”
He can feel her frown on his skin as she slips her hand from his grasp. Traces the fading scars beneath his pecs with the tips of her fingers. They lay there in silence for what feels like too long, but from the corner of his eye he can see the quirk of Temari’s jaw as she carefully figures through her next words. In the meantime, Shikamaru works his thin summer blanket from beneath them, tugs it up over their shoulders and turns. Tangles a slim leg in between Temari’s, and buries his face in her shoulder.
He catches the dildo lying forgotten at the corner of his bed as he adjusts.
“Did you know?” He asks quietly, not accusatory. Just curious.
She leans back, one blonde eyebrow cocked as they lock eyes. Shikamaru jerks his head towards the corner of the bed, and after a beat, she snickers, “Oh, that. No, I just prefer to top.” She tilts her head, long fingers trailing down his back to graze the barest curve of his ass, “We talked about this.”
“Yeah...” Shikamaru sighs, cheeks reddening. He scratches the back of his head, “I guess we did...”
He remembers that hot afternoon under the scorching Suna sun. Temari had him bracketed against the glass wall of her brother’s greenhouse, the pair hidden by a swirl of foliage and budding flora as they desperately tore at each other’s tops, mouths locked in a heady clash of teeth and tongue. They soaked up every shared breath, every whispered word of praise with the knowledge of Shikamaru’s inevitable departure in the back of their minds.
Shikamaru kneaded one of Temari’s pert breasts in his palm as she tore through the zipper on his flak jacket. As she shucked that to the floor, he slipped his lips down the sharp line of her jaw, and relished her gasp as he dropped to his knees. The panels of her cotton skirt slipped aside easy, and as Shikamaru dipped his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties, he felt Temari’s thighs quiver and clench.
He glanced up, a question in his gaze, and she responded by threading her fingers in his brittle black hair. With a groan, she pressed his hot mouth to the damp fabric sheltering her cunt, and Shikamaru smirked, goosebumps fluttering along his arms at the pure want in her movement. He slipped her underwear down to her knees, spread her thighs, dipped his fingers in her soaked folds, and dragged the flat of his tongue across her swollen clit. Logically, the taste wasn’t remarkable: bitter and musty, but to Shikamaru it felt like heaven all the same, with his other fingers dug into the taunt plush of her ass, the sound of her staccato breath urging him along, his nose and lips buried in the coarse, soaked essence of her .
That is, until she gripped his scalp for dear life. Ground her hips into his tongue as he slipped two eager fingers into her entrance, delighting in the pitched moan it pulled from her throat:
“I can’t wait to be inside you.”
That was all the ‘talk’ they managed on the subject, before a sharp flicker of chakra turned them both to round-eyed statues. They hastily shuffled their clothes back on straight— just in time for Gaara, wide-brimmed sun hat, leather apron and all, to shuffle around the corner and greet them as if he hadn’t noticed a thing.
As they fumbled their way through small talk, hastily excused themselves from the greenhouse, and snickered all the way back to Suna’s crowded streets, Shikamaru’s stomach churned. Inside you . Was he ready for that? Did he want that? Maybe for Temari he could manage, but surely she meant… or maybe she already knew...?
He remembers thinking about telling her then. That he wasn’t born...well, that he’d always been a man, but not in the traditional sense. That while his folks were strict, they were loving and understanding. That they helped him pursue his life in the way truest to his soul, no matter what his initial biology dictated.
That he never meant to keep it a secret from her. He was just scared that (on top of his admittedly grating personality, the distance, and the political red tape already between them) it could be the final straw to turn her away.
But despite the summer heat, their sweaty hands were held so tightly together, their shoulders bumping with each slow step down the sandy road. And the smile on Temari’s face. God, he loved her smile that day. The way the sunlight caught on each of her brilliant teeth as she chattered about some place she wanted to bring him for dinner... They’d already been interrupted once in the greenhouse, and didn’t have much time together left. So, despite the anxiety roiling in his gut, Shikamaru just couldn’t bring himself to shatter that smile for anything. Even for something as important as, well...himself.
And as a result, months later, he found himself pinned down to his rickety twin bed. Tawney, calloused, manicured fingers undoing the fastens of his trousers as those same brilliant, glimmering teeth scored bruises to his chest. The beautiful woman above him was still blissfully unaware of the secret she was about to reveal for herself, as she wantonly shoved his pants down to his ankles, and cupped his clothed cunt in her palm.
She flinched then, sure, but just as quickly the surprise melted from her features. Her hunger returned, punctuated by the pink tip of her tongue darting out to lick her lips. Shikamaru’s eyes darted around it all, trying to make sense of it, trying to figure out if at any point she was disappointed or angry or even felt a bit betrayed. But before he could decipher a thing, she turned her predatory gaze on him, surged to take his mouth in a fierce kiss, and murmured hot and sultry against his lips, “Take those off, ” as she snapped the waistband of his boxers against his hip, earning a groan. “I brought something for us ,” and with that, she disappeared from his bed. Left him naked, shivering and alone, to stand by his half dresser where she’d set her backpack on arrival.
The rest of the night’s events replay in Shikamaru’s mind, and the guilt he feels for acting so lame makes his heart ache. Looses a wave of pained exhaustion through his body. He wraps his arms tight around her back, buries his face in the crook of Temari’s neck, and takes another deep, ragged breath of her. Maybe his last, if she finally decides he’s not worth all this trouble. He won’t blame her if she does.
But to his surprise, and great relief, he feels Temari reach up to pull at the tie on his pony tail. Smooth her hands over his hair as it splays across the single pillow, and scratch her nails against his scalp, just as he’d done for her. He sighs, so relieved he feels the tickle of tears at the corners of his eyes.
“Not enough, huh?” She chuckles warmly, pulling back just enough to place a gentle kiss on the apple of his cheek. Shikamaru shakes his head, shimmies down the bed till he’s nestled in the curve of her arm, wipes his damp eyes against her breast. She laughs again, and Shikamaru hears it from her chest, warm, soft, and inviting.
“Nah,” He stifles a yawn, tightens his hold around her torso, and tangles his ankles with hers, “this is perfect.”
Temari’s hand falters in his hair. “Wh—? Jeez…” She knocks him across the side of the head. Not with a punch, just barely a tap, but it’s enough to get his attention. “I meant talking about our sex life, dumbass.”
What? Shikamaru lifts his head, lips turned down in a confused pout. He tracks back through his thoughts, realises he got a bit carried away, and, “Oh, right,” immediately tucks his face back to her chest. Hoping Tem doesn’t mind the way his unshaven chin scritches on her skin—
This time, Temari uses force. Jerks his head up by the scalp and shoots him a glare so sharp his blood runs cold. “Don’t you oh right me, Nara!”
“Ah— ow, Temari —!”
“This is important .”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
Temari drops him like a rock, but before he can even rub the twinge from his scalp (let alone get comfortable again), she’s sitting them both up and shuffling him back against the headboard. Only to join him at his side with a huff, tug the blanket back over their laps, and knock their arms together at the elbows. It’s very... it’s like how an alien might arrange a couple getting ready for bed. Stiff and objective . Well, besides the dark flush on Temari’s cheeks, the thin pinch of her lips, and the nervous way she rubs her twitching knees together under the blanket. Shikamaru nearly laughs at the contrast, but hides it behind a weak cough when Temari’s free hand clenches into a threatening fist.
Quickly composing himself, Shikamaru tries to summon up the usual seriousness and calm rationality he’s known for, but he really has no idea what to say. He hopes she’ll talk first, but she doesn’t. Not right away, and not after a while, so he threads his fingers through hers to try and drum up some courage. He leans against her shoulder, and lets his eyes fall closed. Maybe like this, he can just open his mouth and say—
“I want to have sex with you.”
Shikamaru might’ve jumped if he were a more energetic man. Instead, his eyes just blink back open, and his brows furrow at the pure determination on Temari’s face. Because, well…
“I, uh...figured that much,” He mumbles, frown curling into a wry smirk. A vein swells on Temari’s temple, and the hairs on Shikamaru’s neck stand straight. “But—!”
“No, shut up for a second. I . Want to have sex .” Temari repeats, pushing a finger to his chest, “ With. You. ” She punctuates each word with another push, staring at him like this is supposed to make sense. And it kind of does... her words at least bringing to life some sort of warm, butterfly type feeling in his core. Still, Shikamaru squeezes her hand, silently asks her to elaborate.
If possible, her blush only darkens. “You know!” He might, but he pretends not to. “With you. Like…” She groans, free hand waving around in the air like the words might fall from the sky, “gah , like...in a way we both enjoy, obviously.”
“...that’s what was so hard to say?”
“Don’t test me right now.”
“Alright, alright!” Shikamaru laughs in surrender. “We’re on the same page there, at least.”
Temari clicks her tongue, and Shikamaru can hear the gears churning in her head. Her face gets...really grim, like she’s working over their odds in the face of a particularly dangerous enemy. Then her eyes flicker to the corner of the bed. “Not really.” She grumbles, throwing her weight fully on Shikamaru’s side. His jaw quirks, and, impulsively, he slips his hand from hers to wrap around her instead.
“I came at you like a bull in a china shop. I didn’t even… well, I thought … ugh.” Temari pushes the heels of her palms to her eyes, and though there’s a needling in his gut to comfort her, Shikamaru stays quiet. After a little while, she takes a ragged breath. Lowers her hands, shifts to sit a bit taller, and says, “I assumed way too much, and just did whatever the hell I wanted...I’m sorry about that.”
Shikamaru nods, rests his lips at the base of her temple, and smoothes slow circles into her shoulder—
“But you didn’t say anything, either, mister!”
This time, he really does jump. Only about a quarter of an inch, but he’s still startled, “Well, that’s—”
Temari rounds on him, pins her hands on either side of his waist. “You have to promise me .” She insists, eyes wide and searching inches from his own, “Promise me that if I do something or— or say something you don’t like you’ll tell me.”
Shikamaru hesitates, not sure whether to just agree or actually say what’s on his mind—
“‘Maru. ”
“Okay, okay !” He relents, gingerly pushing her back to her earlier spot before she can accidentally concuss the both of them. “Jeez, what a pain—”
“Hah? ”
“N-nothing. You win, okay?” Shikamaru sighs, pressing another kiss to her cheek, praying to whatever Gods are out there that it does something to settle her down. Of course, it does not.
“So?” Temari insists right away . Shikamaru holds back a groan. “Start talking, then.”
“Well...the thing is...” He trails off, not sure how to word this. In the brief silence, he instinctively steels himself, just in case Temari’s impatience gets the better of her. But she doesn’t move, or speak, or even pinch his thigh to get him to hurry up. She just stares at him, openly. The earnestness in her expression so plain and pure that Shikamaru can feel himself flush all the way down to his toes.
“The…the thing is…” He tries again, scratching the tiny stiff hairs at the tip of his chin, “I didn’t...or I don’t...dislike anything you were doing, or,” He nods at the dildo, “had in mind, actually.”
“But—”
“I was just… you know, I was nervous. It’s my first time, and—”
“It’s—it—y... what?! ” Temari shrieks, leaping onto her knees.
Shikamaru just kinda blinks at her. Shrugs, and says “Well, yeah,” like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“You— Shikamaru, you have to tell me this stuff. I was— I was gonna—” Her head whips to her backpack, and all the color drains from her face. She buries it in her hands. “Oh my God, I was gonna tear you to shreds .”
“Not literally …”
She spreads her fingers just enough to make serious, grave eye contact.
Shikamaru’s throat bobs. “Oh, shit. Um,” He tries to find anything more interesting that a double sided dildo, a naked woman, or a backpack full of torture devices to look at while he nervously crosses his arms and legs. “We’ll uh...probably have to talk about that in more detail. But the uh…” He jerks his thumb at the dildo, “that I’m cool with. And you know, you. Just you is great, too.” He adds, trying to sound smooth.
He earns a punch to the shoulder for his effort, though. “Pfft, sure.”
“No, seriously.” He insists, leaning forward. Temari’s eyes widen just a fraction. “The toys and contraptions and whatever...that’s just frosting.” He reaches out, climbs into her lap and winds his hands around her neck. He can hear her breath quicken, see the deepening crease in her brow as she waits for his next words. So he subverts, takes her bottom lip between his and lays slow kiss after kiss at every corner of her mouth. When her arms wind around his waist, and he feels the tip of her tongue taste the seam of his lips, he pulls away. Presses a kiss to the tip of her nose and rests his forehead against hers.
“I want to have sex with you.” He echoes, so quietly he’s not even sure he said it himself. But in the dimming moonlight, he can still see the sparkle of her teeth as she breaks out that smile he loves so much, feel the flex of her muscles as she pulls him impossibly close, and hear that warm rumble of laughter patter through her beautifully scarred chest.
With an excitement he thought lost by all the dialogue they shared, Temari captures his lips, flips him onto his back, and kicks her legs out to spread his wide across the bed sheets.
Something heavy tumbles to the floor, but neither one pays it any mind. It’s frosting, after all.
Just each other is more than enough.