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It’s a week until Shikamaru is getting married. Naruto is two shirt buttons down to one of Temari’s many aunts after a game of poker turned shady, wondering whether Sakura threatening someone with dismemberment is likely to end up as his problem when she eventually follows up on her threat, and more than halfway to wasted on sweet Suna drinks whose taste did not at all bely their alcoholic content.
Out of sheer self-preservation, Naruto has escaped the aunts, is pretending he can’t either hear or see Sakura, and is now sticking to beer. Beer, unlike both aunts and Sakuras and mysterious Suna drinks, is at least honest about being Not That Great.
Naruto appreciates a little honesty in his life.
He’s also sticking to beer because he’s a cheapskate. He got handed two bottles for free by Kiba only some twenty minutes ago, and, really, who’s Naruto to look a gift-dog in the mouth? Not only is he the quintessential example of a poor kid grown up to be an adult with far too many money-related hang-ups to be healthy, Kiba isn’t exactly known for his good eating habits. Naruto does not want to see or smell whatever is hidden between his teeth. Only last week, Naruto had stumbled upon Kiba at a training field with his mouth full of grass.
Naruto might not be a medic, but even he knows that eating grass isn’t only some flavour of disgusting, but also all flavours of not good for you.
Of course, Kiba being Kiba, he’d made not commenting difficult.
His face had been simultaneously both constipated and sympathetic as he’d pushed the bottles of beer into Naruto’s hands, and he’d patted Naruto on the shoulder with all the care of a boulder barrelling down the side of a mountain. Naruto had assumed the gesture was meant to be comforting, given how Kiba was talking about there being more cocks in the coop and how Naruto shouldn't only be vying for venison, but Naruto wasn’t sure how charitable he wanted to be.
Kiba had, after all, post his almost upending the table in his attempt to scoot past it, taken to sending Naruto looks of concern any time Naruto so much as let his eyes rest on Shikamaru for a moment. Whenever Naruto responded to Shikamaru’s increasingly sappy ramblings, Kiba’s eyes even started tearing up.
Which was, even for Kiba, fucking weird.
It’s only when Kiba is explaining to Shikamaru that the reason for his stay in the Suna Jail the other night was because he’d been arrested for attempting to break into Kankurou’s office to serenade him that realisation dawns on Naruto. Because Kiba, as he’s telling Shikamaru that we can’t all be as lucky as you in the arena of love, is staring at Naruto with pity.
Perhaps if Naruto had been sober it wouldn’t have taken him twenty minutes to figure out that Kiba is of the belief that Naruto is pining for Shikamaru, but he isn’t sober and so it had.
The free beers are pity beers.
Naruto doesn't know if he should laugh or cry.
He settles on giving Kiba the finger.
The idea of someone thinking Naruto’s in unrequited love with Shikamaru is at once both laughable and predictable. Hell, even Naruto had at one point assumed it to be the case, and it was only after they’d kissed once at fifteen and found there to be negative chemistry between them that he’d learned better.
Have they lived together ever since Naruto got back from his stint abroad with Jiraiya?
Yes.
Do they sometimes pretend to be married to fuck with people and escape from the occasional fan attempting to woo Naruto?
Also, yes.
Does that mean Naruto is in any way opposed to Shikamaru soon signing away his virtue to Temari and beginning his life as a kept man?
Well, sort of, but that’s mostly due to him having gotten used to living together with someone and isn’t looking forward to being out of a roommate – even when said roommate is regularly sending him out of the house because he wants to get dicked down.
Which is, honestly, fair enough. Naruto might not personally be into blonde dominatrixes who’re objectively bloody terrifying, but he can tell Shikamaru is, and Naruto loves sex enough himself to suffer through staying over at Ino’s a few nights every so often to let his best mate get some.
Bottom line is Naruto’s not in unrequited love with Shikamaru.
However, even though it pains him to admit, Kiba isn’t completely off centre with his guess that Naruto is in unrequited love. Naruto is in unrequited love. Has been for some time now, honestly.
Kiba’s just got the who of it all mixed up.
Shikaku, who’s sitting next to Naruto, lays his heavy arm on the back of their seats. Naruto really tries not to think about it as Shikaku having his arm around Naruto’s shoulders, just as he’s studiously trying not to think about Shikaku’s thick thigh being pressed up against his own, or how their feet sometimes brush together beneath the table when either one of them shifts.
Is he failing?
Absolutely, but no one is allowed to blame him.
The amount of restraint Naruto is showing by simply not melting into Shikaku’s side, like the lovesick cephalopod he is on the inside, is staggering. Naruto’s always been a sucker for touch, it very much is his love language as they say, and his yearning to be patted on the head only grows exponentially with his alcohol consumption.
Naruto’s friends are generally good sports about letting him use them as his personal heating sources, but he’s not so sure his friend’s dad will be as appreciative.
Especially not when Naruto’s likely to grow a boner about it.
Shikaku is pretty chill overall, and Naruto is invested in that staying the case. And, even if it might also be a little painful to sit next to his crush and try to be normal about it, Naruto very much doesn’t want Shikaku to leave. So, in order for that not to happen, Naruto does his best to force down the urge to climb Shikaku like a tree.
Thinking about it, it might even be preferable that people think him in love with Shikamaru over them knowing the truth, at least the first one will make people feel sorry for him instead of asking him about his numerous daddy issues.
Not that Konoha’s inhabitants are known for their perceptive nature, of course – Ino none withstanding. Reaching wild conclusions far off the truth from only circumstantial evidence is practically a Konoha pastime.
They’re also, as most gambling addicts are, too invested in spending their entire life’s savings in the span of one night, courtesy of Ino booking Shikamaru’s stag party at Suna’s most famous casino.
Probably his yearning for the groom’s father will slip by most of them.
Provided, that is, he doesn’t open his mouth and beg to be allowed to shoulder his way between Shikaku’s thighs to mouth at his cock like a parched man would beg for water.
Likely even Kiba would relinquish his notion of Naruto’s romantic interests should he do that.
Of course, thinking about not doing something makes his mind do the opposite, conjuring up images as mouthwatering as they’re unwanted given that he’s sitting next to the object of his desires and opposite his best friend who is, as it happens, also the son of the object of his desires. And that’s not even mentioning the fact that Kiba is watching, which should be enough for Naruto’s dick not to be interested in any proceedings.
It isn’t enough for Naruto’s dick to not be interested in any proceedings.
He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fighting down the blush threatening to climb up his neck.
Then Shikaku shifts slightly, and his hand slides down to cradle Naruto’s shoulder, and whatever composure Naruto has managed to wrangle escapes him like fog through fingers.
The whine which makes its way up his throat is only barely audible, but it’s as telling as it’s embarrassing. If anyone heard him, they’d know right away that Naruto is neck deep in naughty thoughts.
Naruto loses the battle with the blush.
Thankfully everyone besides Kiba, whose mien is starting to change from pity to something more of a general confusion, is too busy either drinking or gambling to pay Naruto any attention. Or, when raucous cheers erupt over by the poker table, watching Sakura deck someone for being a sore loser.
Shikaku’s fingers play with the fabric of Naruto’s shirt, almost absentmindedly, and Naruto just about wants to call Sakura over to put him out of his misery, too. Say what you will about her anger management deficiencies, she’s efficient.
Instead, it’s Ibiki who comes to his rescue when he sits down on Naruto’s other side, gives an acknowledging but ultimately dismissive nod to Naruto, and, with the aplomb of someone well used to interrogating people, strikes up a conversation with Shikaku over Naruto’s head.
Naruto appreciates Ibiki for distracting Shikaku for all of a second before the reality of Ibiki even attending the stag party strikes him.
Because Ibiki isn’t what anyone would call Shikamaru’s coworker or friend, never mind family, and since he’s definitely not in Suna on behalf of the bride – Naruto would’ve been made aware of such a potential source of the world’s demise – that means Ibiki is here as a plus-one. Which means someone brought him here to be their plus-one.
Of course, since the venue isn’t reserved only for the stag party, there’s the slight chance that this is all a big coincidence, and Ibiki had simply felt the need to travel to Suna to gamble, but Naruto’s willing to bet that isn’t what happened.
No, Naruto’s getting the sense that the truth is several shades worse than Ibiki, the one in charge of the Academy’s bi-yearly If You Gamble, You’re an Idiot lecture, not being a man who lives by his own words.
Because Ino has been hinting for months about her new beau.
She’s never dropped much identifying information beside describing him as tall, dark, and handsome. Ibiki is certainly both tall and dark, and while Naruto wouldn’t personally describe him as handsome himself, Ino’s tastes have changed with age; it’s not unthinkable she would.
The only other noteworthy piece of information Naruto knows about Ino’s current partner concerns their sex-life and the significant size of said partner’s dick.
Ino doesn’t subscribe to the belief that there can be such a thing as TMI between friends. Ino thinks that there can never be too much information shared between friends. Ino does, in fact, consider her sex-life to be everyone’s business.
As a result of being both her friend and coworker, not to mention the nights he spends sleeping on her couch when sexiled, Naruto knows more about her sex-life than he does his own. Partly that’s because he hasn’t had much of a sex-life himself as of late, but mostly it’s because Ino is Ino and oversharing is a Yamanaka trait she’s embraced like her life depended on it.
Of course, Ino being Ino, she neglected to tell them a name and instead kept referring to her partner as her boy-toy.
In light of this latest revelation, boy-toy rings completely differently.
Naruto swallows the last of the beer and reaches for his next, doing his best not to stare at Ibiki’s crotch like a creep.
Gods, he needs to get railed.
Shikaku laughs lowly in response to something Ibiki said, and the sound practically reverberates through Naruto.
Naruto really can’t stop from shivering.
“Naruto,” Shikamaru calls to get his attention from the other side of the table, obviously too drunk himself to notice how Naruto is one more weak moment away from combusting.
Naruto hopes Shikaku is equally oblivious. The alternative bears no thinking about.
“I’m getting married,” Shikamaru says, an unusually dumb smile on his face. His cheeks are red from drinking and the blush Ino had applied earlier. He appears as happy as can be and no one can doubt his status as the Elemental Nation’s most eager groom-to-be.
“You sure are,” Naruto agrees, and is not surprised by the long monologue Shikamaru starts about Temari’s ability to bench him and the sharpness of her blades. He mentions more than that, obviously – Shikamaru takes sappy and mooning to a whole new level – but Naruto tunes him out. He’s heard it all many times before.
His friends might not realise it or want to admit it, but at the end of the day, they’re rather alike.
Shikamaru doesn’t appear to notice Naruto’s lack of attention, pleased enough to simply have a listener who nods at appropriate times instead of frowning in confusion as Kiba’s busy doing.
And he has been frowning for some time now, his eyes caught on Naruto’s body, his brain obviously working overtime to string together coherent thoughts.
Shikaku’s hand, still on Naruto’s shoulder, draws back toward his neck.
Kiba’s eyes follow its path before they land on Naruto’s mouth, which is busy biting his own lip as he struggles to restrain a whimper.
Kiba blinks, his confusion remaining for a long moment before realisation dawns on his face.
Naruto sends him a glare, doing his very best to mentally let Kiba know there will be consequences should he open his mouth.
Kiba puts his hands in the air in surrender, but the grin that’s growing on his face says it all.
Naruto is not going to be allowed to pretend Kiba doesn’t know, now, because Kiba will be wanting to talk about it. Kiba will be wanting to wingman him most likely, because whenever Kiba isn’t busy embarrassing himself in his attempts of seduction he’ll be wanting to embarrass someone else for them.
Naruto decides this is his sign to excuse himself. It’s better he leaves than he remains, because who knows how long Kiba will be able to keep his silence with Naruto still in his presence.
He extracts himself from Shikaku’s soft hold, pretending the way his fingers drag against Naruto’s neck doesn’t make his knees weak, and heads for the bathroom to cry a little in a stall. Maybe he’ll jerk one out if he’s feeling ballsy and splash some water on his face to collect himself before he finds some other place to hide from his problems.
Before he can make it there, however, he’s intercepted by Ino.
He hears her before he sees her; her purse clinking loudly with every step she takes, as if it’s filled with coins.
Most likely, it is.
Ino is very good at gambling.
She opens her mouth to say something but stops herself when she sees his face. She stares at him suspiciously for a moment before she looks back toward the table he just left. Then she smiles, her canines showing just a bit too much, and Naruto wishes that the floor would swallow him whole.
“I see,” Ino says, like she's a B-grade detective in a cheesy crime drama. Then she chuckles like she’s the murderer in said cheesy crime drama. “This will beat my wedding gift by far.”
Before Naruto gets the chance to escape her, Ino clasps his shoulder in a tight grip and stares him down.
“Good luck,” she says, empathically.
Then she lets him go and disappears to attack another blackjack table, leaving Naruto behind, confused and scared. He stays standing in the middle of the room for a second before he shakes himself and heads for the bathroom.
Not only to hide but mostly for that reason.
Of course, the bathroom doesn’t hold the answers to his many issues, and the speakers blaring the latest tune to top the local charts in Suna does little to relax him. The dark beats seem more fitting to some underground rave than they do a bathroom in a swanky casino, but Naruto has never claimed to understand the Suna music scene.
He’s splashing cold water on his face, trying to collect himself, when the door behind him opens.
Before Naruto can look up to see who’s entered the bathroom, twin hands drop down on each side of him, caging Naruto in between the person behind him and the sink.
Naruto would protest being captured like this, is going to, even, but then he looks closer at the hands and his voice abandons him.
He recognizes those hands. He’s seen them many times; not just tonight, grasping glasses and sometimes brushing against him, or in the past, holding pens and moving go stones to win embarrassingly one-sided games, but in his dreams, doing things that makes him tremble when only remembering.
Naruto doesn’t look up in the mirror, all too aware that his face will be beet red and Shikaku will be a looming presence above him and behind him and – oh fuck – all around him.
“Shikaku?” Naruto says, voice as weak as his knees.
Shikaku leans down until his mouth is right by Naruto’s ear. He can feel the exhales against his skin.
“You should join me in my room, later,” Shikaku says, a demand dressed to appear as more innocuous than it is. Then he drags his teeth right along Naruto’s jaw, getting rid of any kind of ambiguity there might have been in his statement, before he pulls away, hands disappearing from Naruto’s view.
Naruto is too shocked to move.
“Room 404," Shikaku says before he closes the door behind him.
Naruto is left, clinging onto the sink to not collapse into a puddle on the floor, hornier than he’s ever been and mind still reeling, not quite daring to believe the past minute actually happened.
Because holy shit, Shikaku just propositioned him.
In a daze, Naruto grabs a paper towel to dry his hands before he heads back inside to do a set of shots with Sakura and gather the courage he needs to –
Naruto shifts on his feet, pretending he isn’t chubbing up in his pants.
He catches Ino’s eyes as she’s watching him knowingly from across the room.
She’s always enjoyed chaos. More to the point, she loves seeing Shikamaru suffer, and Naruto knows it’ll break Shikamaru’s brain a bit should he ever learn that future Naruto has fucked his dad. Given Ino being Ino, it’s not a question of if Shikamaru will find out but a question of when – and the answer to that question is likely at whichever point in time will lead to Shikamaru having to face the realisation in public for maximal enjoyment for Ino.
Shikaku, who’s leaning against a wall as he chats with one of Gaara’s many advisors, gives Naruto a long look before he, probably very deliberately, excuses himself to head for the elevator. His eyes, dark and intent, remain on Naruto until the doors close in front of him.
Fuck, Naruto is about to get railed.
His heart beats like it’s about to burst through his skin any second. He does his best to remain cool and not arouse any suspicion, attempting to stay present in his conversation with Sakura while pretending not to notice Ino’s knowing smirk and the sound of Kiba almost dying from choking on his drink.
Naruto’s debating how long it’s appropriate he waits before he follows Shikaku up to his room in order to be somewhat low-key about this thing when Sakura frowns at him. “You’re acting weird,” she says. “Stop acting weird.”
Naruto opens his mouth to respond that he’s not acting weird at all, actually, but stops at her glare.
Sakura reaches over the bar to swipe a glass and an entire bottle of wine from behind it.
“Put it on my tab,” she tells the bartender. Seeing as the bartender only nods, it likely isn’t the first time she’s done so.
“Of course, Miss Yamanaka,” the bartender says before she heads to the other end of the bar.
Naruto raises an eyebrow at Sakura. “Miss Yamanaka?”
Sakura shrugs. “She owes me,” she says, opening the bottle of wine to pour some into her glass. She puts the bottle down on the counter and takes a sip.
Curious despite himself, Naruto asks, “For any particular reason? I’m not doubting that she does, but you usually don’t take it out on her wallet.”
Sakura, as everyone knows, prefers to take out her grievances with her fists.
“She’s planning to propose to Ibiki at Shikamaru’s reception,” Sakura says.
Naruto, like Kiba, chokes on his drink.
“She’s what?” he says, once he’s caught his breath and wiped his mouth from saliva.
Sakura swallows another mouthful of wine. “Planning to propose to Ibiki at Shikamaru’s reception. She’s shown me the ring. It’s cute.”
Suddenly, Ino’s comment from earlier about her wedding gift makes a whole lot more sense.
“Shikamaru’s going to have an aneurysm,” he says, accepting the glass of wine, when Sakura hands it to him absentmindedly, and taking a sip.
Proposing while attending someone else’s wedding is, without a doubt, something Ino would do.
“Yep,” Sakura says. “And while you didn’t hear it from me, Yamato’s been working up his nerve to ask her out on a date for the past few months, so that’s going to be fun.”
Naruto winces.
“You’ve tried telling him he’s, uh, better off looking for his true love elsewhere?” Naruto asks, even while knowing the answer.
Sakura snorts. “Of course, I did, but he’s as stubborn as you and just as dumb, so it didn’t do much beside getting me a lecture on the Power of Perseverance and Positive Thinking.” She takes back the glass of wine and chugs the rest of it. “In conclusion, Ino owes me for past and future suffering alike. And you,” she points at Naruto, “will award me extra vacation days in compensation for wrangling this mess.”
Naruto puts his hands up in surrender.
Sakura waves him off. “Now, go get fucked or whatever. I have a date to score with this bartender.”
She waves at the bartender, gesturing for her to come over, and Naruto takes his leave.
He’s got his own date, after all.
Without another backward glance, he heads for the elevator and rides it up to the fourth floor, brain almost stuttering to a pause as he comes to stand in front of the door to Shikaku’s room. He’s not quite sure that this isn’t an elaborate dream he’s bound to wake up from shortly, in his own bed, underwear wet and cock aching.
Again.
He remains standing in front of Shikaku’s door for what feels like an eternity but is probably only minutes at most, staring at it and somehow unable to force himself to knock.
Shikaku opens the door. He leans against the doorframe, appearing completely relaxed except for the intent look of his eyes. He’s taken off his suit jacket and his shirt sleeves are rolled up.
Naruto, eyes caught on the tendons of Shikaku’s arms, doesn’t manage to bite back his whimper.
“Unless you want me to fuck you in the corridor, I think you better come inside,” Shikaku says, breaking Naruto out of his stupor.
Naruto swallows almost audibly.
The idea of Shikaku simply pushing into the wall, or to the floor, even, and taking him right there for anyone to stumble upon, is far more enticing than Naruto would have thought it to be should someone have asked him previously.
There is little Shikaku wouldn’t be able to convince him of trying, Naruto thinks.
Shikaku keeps his eyes on Naruto's, self-assured and almost effortlessly suggestive, dark promises and a smouldering fire just waiting for Naruto to accept his offer to come inside.
Naruto wonders if he’ll be able to walk tomorrow. On some level, he hopes he won’t be.
He walks through the doorway.
Shikaku locks the door behind him.
The room inside is slightly bigger than Naruto’s but that’s to be expected – Naruto had picked the cheapest one available, old habits hard to beat, and Shikaku is the head of one of Konoha’s wealthier clans. Beyond the hallway he sees a king-sized bed, sheets a dark blue colour, and a couch somewhat similar to the one they’d been sitting on earlier.
This one is just big enough to seat two.
He’s about to bend down to remove his shoes, regretting he chose laced ones he can’t simply toe off, when Shikaku moves close behind him, making him freeze in place. His hands are big, with wide palms and long fingers, and Naruto almost imagines they can close around his waist with no issue.
But it’s not the hands that make him lean back so much as it’s the cock he can feel like a brand against his ass, even through the double layers of both of their pants and underwear.
Naruto can’t help the moan that escapes his throat any less than he can help but push back against that cock.
“Take your shoes off,” Shikaku says, almost as if apropos nothing. Like he’s not affected. Like he’s in control.
Naruto doesn’t doubt that he is.
Once he's awkwardly finished taking his shoes off, Shikaku pushes him up against the wall face first and crowds in close, reminiscent of when he’d cornered Naruto by the sink earlier. It should make him feel caged and it does, but in all the ways that make his breath catch and his cock thicken.
Naruto doesn’t mind being caged if it’s Shikaku doing the trapping.
“You know,” Shikaku murmurs in Naruto’s ear, “I’m not blind.” He has to bend down slightly to put his face level with Naruto’s since he’s taller by almost a head.
It’s been years now since Naruto felt small. He hadn’t liked it much when he was younger, eager to grow up in more ways than one, but he finds he doesn’t mind being small now, in this context.
He doesn’t mind it at all.
Shikaku pulls on Naruto’s shirt until it’s been untucked from his pants and rucks it up to slide his hands up Naruto’s sides.
“I’ve seen the way you stare at me when you think no one’s looking.”
What little space there might have been between them disappears when Shikaku moves closer, spreading Naruto’s legs around his thigh.
Naruto’s voice breaks on his whine.
“It’s cute,” Shikaku says before he nibbles on Naruto’s ear. “Like a dog wishing his owner would pet him.” He scrapes his nails down Naruto’s stomach and Naruto presses into it almost desperately. “Hoping to be scratched; begging for a treat.”
Naruto opens his mouth for the fingers Shikaku places there, but before he can suck them down Shikaku moves away, leaving Naruto’s back suddenly cold and lonely. He hears him walk through the room, the muted sound of his sock-clad feet hitting the hardwood floor, and then a slight creaking noise as he settles on what Naruto thinks is the couch.
He hopes it’s the couch.
He wants so badly to get fucked on the couch.
He would take the bed too, obviously, but there’s just something special about the idea of Shikaku having his way with him on the couch after everything.
When he finally gathers his wits enough to turn around, the view he’s met with has his mouth run dry.
Shikaku is sitting with his arms spread over the back of the couch, thighs slightly parted, and his eyes are almost burning.
Naruto has never wanted to crawl into someone’s lap so desperately ever before in his life. It only takes Shikaku raising an eyebrow for him to fold, almost falling over himself in his scramble to close the distance between them. He wonders if he should fall to his knees to pry open Shikaku’s pants, his fantasies from earlier stark in his mind, begging for the treat that Shikaku promised but didn’t deliver on, but Shikaku grabs him by his arms before he can manage to.
“Later,” he says. He uses his hold to guide Naruto up and onto his lap where he lets go, his arms returning to their place on the back of the couch.
Naruto fidgets for a moment, unsure if he should lean back or forward, unsure where to put his hands, before he takes a deep breath to gather himself and grabs hold of the lapels of Shikaku’s shirt lest his mind spiral completely away from him. When Shikaku doesn’t protest, eyes simply resting like an inescapable weight on Naruto’s skin, he starts unbuttoning it. Button by button, Shikaku’s chest is revealed to him, his skin a collection of scars, and Naruto wonders at the story behind each one.
He would ask, but he can’t seem to find his voice.
When he reaches for the last button, his fingers brush against the bulge in Shikaku’s pants.
Naruto has seen the outline of Shikaku’s cock before. It’s, well, it’s big enough for it to show through clothes even when not hard, and Naruto has eyes.
But he’s never looked at Shikaku’s package with the prospect of unwrapping it being available to him.
And he’s never seen it this big.
“I think you should grab the packets of lube from my jacket,” Shikaku tells him, his voice deeper than before.
Naruto wants to drown in it.
“Where?” Naruto asks.
At the back of his mind, he registers that it’s the first word he’s spoken to Shikaku since the bathroom.
Shikaku’s head tilts to the side, and Naruto turns to see Shikaku’s missing suit jacket hanging over one of the armrests. He reaches for it, almost losing his balance before Shikaku reaches out to hold him steady.
With trembling hands, Naruto rummages through the jacket until he finds the lube, pulling out two packets.
Shikaku grabs them, placing one next to him on the couch and opening the other, pouring its contents out on the fingers of his right hand.
“Take your clothes off, Naruto,” Shikaku says. His eyes rest heavily on Naruto’s.
Naruto does as he’s told.
“Good boy,” Shikaku says once Naruto is undressed and back on his lap, and Naruto almost melts. His cock twitches where it stands tall against his belly, mind still ringing from Shikaku’s words and eyes caught on Shikaku’s wet fingers. They’re so much bigger than Naruto’s own.
“Do you want a kiss, Naruto?” Shikaku asks, beguilingly.
Naruto nods dumbly, pulling his eyes away from Shikaku’s fingers to stare at his face; at his dark eyes filled with darker promises; at his mouth, slanted in a slight smirk.
“Then come here.”
Naruto leans forward slowly, hands coming up to clutch at the lapels of Shikaku’s shirt, as he places his mouth – softly, carefully, wondrously – on Shikaku’s. Their lips simply press together, closed, for a moment. Then Shikaku uses his teeth to pull on Naruto’s lower lip, and Naruto whines and opens his mouth, letting Shikaku in.
Shikaku’s fingers are cold against his hole, but he lets him in there, too.
They kiss as Shikaku fingers him open. He starts with two fingers almost right away, forcing them in deep, practically punching the air out of Naruto’s chest. It’s like he knows, somehow, that Naruto – even when he isn’t this desperate, even when it isn’t Shikaku – prefers for it to ache; wants to really feel it.
He pushes back against Shikaku’s fingers, begging without sound, and when it feels there’s no air left between them, he pulls away from Shikaku’s mouth to hide in the junction of Shikaku’s neck and shoulders, breathing in the smell of him and almost choking with want.
Shikaku makes a considering noise, pushing in a third finger as his other hand moves up to cradle Naruto’s neck. “You like that,” Shikaku says, and Naruto can’t tell if it’s in question or confirmation. Fingers card through his hair, making him shiver.
Then Shikaku tightens his hold on Naruto’s locks, slowly but firmly pulling his head back and forcing Naruto to bend to meet his gaze.
Shikaku’s eyes are so intent they almost sear into him.
“I wonder, is it my fingers here,“ he fucks into Naruto’s ass hard, knuckles scraping against his prostate, “or here?”
Shikaku yanks at his hair and even though he isn’t rough about it, Naruto has to catch his breath all over again before he can stutter out, “Both.”
The satisfied grin that spreads across Shikaku’s face will visit Naruto in his dreams for a long time.
“Please, will you –“ Naruto presses into Shikaku’s body as best he can, the need crawling all up his insides. “Will you fuck me? I need you to fuck me.”
Shikaku hums in thought, mouthing his way down Naruto’s throat to leave stinging bites at his collarbones. “Would you be able to ride me, or do you need me to push you down?” Shikaku asks almost conversationally as he makes Naruto’s body sing.
It takes him several seconds to even register the question.
While Naruto enjoys being on top, as he is right now but with Shikaku’s cock instead of his fingers inside him, Naruto doubts he’d be able to keep his balance much less move with any sort of rhythm. Not to mention how the idea of Shikaku holding him down as he does what he pleases makes Naruto shiver with want.
Shikaku is observant enough to know the answer to his question without Naruto needing to do anything but whine.
The fingers withdraw, Naruto only just managing to keep himself from following them, and then Shikaku pushes him down and to the side, until he’s face down against the armrest, nose buried in Shikaku’s jacket, smelling sweat and pine and something dark and forbidden.
Shikaku is almost gentle when he rearranges Naruto’s body until he’s positioned to his liking, but there’s no give to his hold; no room to push back.
It’s good that Naruto doesn’t want there to be.
He hears a zipper being pulled down through the teeth before he feels the heavy weight of Shikaku’s cock against him. At the back of his mind there’s a splash of regret that he doesn’t get to see it even as he arches his back and pushes back into it.
Naruto only realises he must have said something when Shikaku chuckles, teasingly dipping the head of his cock inside Naruto only to pull back and repeat again and again. “Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll get to look to your heart’s content later.”
Before Naruto can answer, Shikaku pushes in with one deep, satisfying thrust that punches the air right out of him. It feels at first like there’s no end to it – like Shikaku’s cock is big enough that it’ll soon force its way up Naruto’s throat – but then Shikaku’s hips are flush with his ass, and it does absolutely nothing to lessen how overwhelming it is. His thighs are spread far enough Naruto almost wonders if he’ll ever be able to close them again.
He keens, sounding almost broken even to his own ears, and clutches Shikaku’s jacket closer. He bites at it, if only to hinder more embarrassing sounds from escaping him.
Shikaku’s thrusts are even in tempo, as undeniable as they are devastating.
It only takes Shikaku’s hand wrapping around his neck for Naruto to come, even before Shikaku forces his head down further.
Somewhere above him, Shikaku swears.
Naruto can’t focus on anything but what feels like the strongest orgasm of his life to date. His body spasms around Shikaku, prolonging the sensation until it’s almost too much; until it is too much, and his body wants to get away even while his mind is content to remain like this for eternity.
It doesn’t matter if Naruto shatters to pieces, he thinks. Shikaku fucking him stupid has been all he’s ever wanted since the first time he figured out coming from his ass trumped fucking into his own hand by a wide margin.
“You would let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” Shikaku asks, and for the first time his delivery isn’t flawless, the pauses between the words irregular and affected. He sounds almost out of breath.
If Naruto was one for flights of fancy, for believing in the power of love and lust and all the deities Jiraiya had praised when he was alive, he’d think Shikaku awed.
(Even despite himself, Naruto hopes he is.)
He nods as best he can with Shikaku’s grip on his neck, grateful for his face being hidden from Shikaku’s too sharp gaze, not bothering with trying to figure out how to work his mouth into forming words.
Shikaku swears again, his thrusts growing more forceful. He lets go of Naruto’s neck to brace himself on his elbows against the armrest, almost covering Naruto’s body entirely, partly blocking out the soft glow of the ceiling light.
Each time he pushes in to the hilt Naruto can’t help but quake, his dick wanting to remain hard but still so sensitive, and each time Shikaku withdraws he takes with him whatever air Naruto had managed to breathe in.
When Shikaku forces his way in deep and comes with a soft grunt, pressing his entire body down along Naruto’s back, it’s everything Naruto’s ever wanted it to be.
He comes again, he thinks, not quite dry but not quite not either. The sensation leaves him feeling shattered, mind reeling, and it’s almost instinct to put his teeth to Shikaku’s arm and bite down.
It’s minutes later that he remembers to dislodge his teeth, working his jaw softly to release the tension left behind before he freezes when his eyes fall to the marks left behind on Shikaku’s skin. His brain is too sluggish to even think to stop his telling moan, and the tips of his ears grow red at Shikaku’s gravelly laugh.
“Aren’t you cute,” Shikaku says and pats him distractedly on his side.
Naruto pushes his face back into Shikaku’s arm, a little bit to hide and a little more just because he can.
Naruto has wanted to plaster himself to Shikaku for the better part of his adult life. He’s not going to waste the opportunity handed to him now.
Thankfully, Shikaku seems happy enough himself to remain a heavy weight upon Naruto’s back for long enough that Naruto’s only barely staying awake. When Shikaku finally does withdraw, allowing Naruto to take his first proper breath in minutes, it’s all together too soon and Naruto has to bite back a demand that Shikaku stay put.
He can’t help but grumble, though.
Shikaku pauses, on his knees and with one hand proprietarily placed on the small of Naruto’s back.
“You know,” Shikaku begins, smoothing his hands down to knead at Naruto's ass, “there's a perfectly good bed in this room.”
Naruto pushes up and back into the hands. “I like it here, though,” he says, still a little drunk on almost sleep and very satisfying sex. He thinks Shikaku should simply lay back down instead of getting up.
Shikaku snorts. “While I'm sure you're young enough that sleeping on the couch won't do you much harm, my joints would not be as appreciative.”
He moves a finger to the cleft of Naruto's ass, sliding it down over his hole, gathering up some of the mixture of come and lube that's slowly trickling out of him.
Naruto shivers, his own fingers digging into the couch, unable to stop the whine which escapes him any more than he could stop the sun from going up in the morning.
“There's also an adequately sized bathtub,” Shikaku offers. “We could both use a little cleaning before bed.”
Naruto shifts around to stare up at Shikaku, who appears almost soft in the low lighting, eyes intent still but smile almost gentle; almost welcoming.
Naruto wants to burrow into his skin and never leave.
He looks away for a moment, cheeks red despite himself, before he forces himself to turn back and meet Shikaku's gaze from beneath his eyelashes.
Naruto clears his throat. “A bath would be nice,” he settles on, which both is and isn't anywhere near enough to convey what he truly means to.
Shikaku's smile grows into a smirk. He leans down, placing a kiss on Naruto's cheekbone before he kisses him properly.
He pulls back all too soon, leaving Naruto panting.
“Do you want me to carry you?”
Naruto blinks, trying to get his eyes and mind to focus.
His instinctive answer is no, because he can walk on his own, but then he considers the reality of being carried by Shikaku and says, “Fuck, please.”
Shikaku, it seems, doesn’t mind Naruto clinging to him like a human barnacle, and Naruto decides he’ll do his utmost to take advantage, keeping skin on skin contact all the way through filling the bathtub with hot water and getting in.
When Shikaku grabs the soap and starts lathering him, Naruto’s body loses all integrity. He leans back against Shikaku’s chest, letting his head flop to the side, almost cradled between Shikaku’s neck and shoulder.
“Arm,” Shikaku says.
Naruto lifts his arm without protest.
He’s debating the merits of falling asleep in the bathtub - he’s confident Shikaku wouldn’t let him drown - when Shikaku asks, “Will you be looking for another roommate now that Shikamaru’s moving out?”
“I guess,” Naruto sleepily replies. He raises his other arm when Shikaku asks for it, silently wondering how much he wants Shikaku to know about Naruto’s quite complicated feelings about his living situation. “I don’t really like living alone,” he continues eventually, which is true enough if not the entire story.
Shikaku hums in answer. His hands slide their way down Naruto’s arm until they’re cradling Naruto’s hand, massaging in the soap and making Naruto almost forget what they’re talking about because he’s so relaxed. Shikaku lowers Naruto’s hand slowly, placing it on his thigh and looping his arms loosely around Naruto’s waist.
“I might have a solution for that,” Shikaku begins. “If you’re interested.”
“You do?” Naruto asks.
“Well, I do own a rather big house,” Shikaku says. “I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing it with the,” he pauses, as if searching for the correct words, “right person.”
Naruto’s breaths stutter to a halt once he realises what Shikaku’s offering.
He turns around and, before he can think better of it, leverages his weight to push Shikaku back against the short side of the tub, hands on Shikaku’s shoulders.
Shikaku doesn’t appear the least bothered; his body relaxed, his face collected.
His eyes are so very dark.
Naruto licks his lips.
“Are you asking me to move in with you?” Naruto asks after finally taking a breath, not able or willing to beat around the bush.
“If you want,” Shikaku replies. Then he shrugs. “You obviously don’t mind sharing your living space with a Nara since you let Shikamaru stay for as long as you did.” Shikaku lets his eyes travel up and down Naruto, lingering for a moment on his dick before their eyes meet once more. There’s no mistaking the heat in his gaze. “I’m sure I don’t have to explain how living with me would be preferable.”
And it’s true, he doesn’t. Naruto is all too aware already.
Still.
“What about you, then?” Naruto counters. “Why would you want me to move in with you?” he asks with bated breath.
Shikaku slides his hands up to grab the back of Naruto’s thighs to pull him forward so that Naruto’s properly straddling his lap. “Oh, many reasons,” he says. One of his hands dips between Naruto’s cheeks to play with his hole while the other moves to squeeze his dick.
Naruto’s moan echoes against the bathroom tiles.
Shikaku's responding smile has just enough teeth to make Naruto shiver.
“How about we discuss them all over tea, tomorrow?” he suggests.
Naruto doesn’t so much accept as he attempts to fuse their mouths together, but he wagers the message gets across.
One week and several cups of tea later sees them standing side by side watching people dance at Shikamaru and Temari’s wedding reception. The highlight so far had been watching the almost-blush on Shikamaru’s face as Temari had dipped and kissed him with a fair amount of tongue in front of everyone.
The low point continues to be Kiba. Every time Naruto’s unfortunate enough to let his eyes rest in Kiba’s general direction he’s met with wagging eyebrows, a wide grin and two very exaggerated thumbs up. At one point he’d used sign to congratulate Naruto on bagging a DILF.
Shikaku, because he’s apparently neither bothered nor shy, only chuckles in amusement when he notices, bringing one hand up to play with the hair at Naruto’s neck, making Naruto blush and Kiba almost dislocate his eyebrows.
Naruto tries his best not to look in Kiba’s direction.
He also tries not to look in Sakura’s direction, but that’s because she’s currently full on making out with the bartender from the casino. Naruto’s trying to think only PG-13 rated thoughts as they’re still at the wedding and Naruto’s dick needs to hurry up and wait.
Naruto doesn’t manage to think only PG-13 rated thoughts.
“I guess it’s time,” Shikaku says, startling Naruto out of his ongoing debate with his dick.
“Time for what?” he asks. He turns his head to look up at Shikaku. At his motion, Shikaku’s fingers drag pleasantly against Naruto’s scalp, turning his knees weak.
Shikaku is smiling around the rim of his glass of wine, staring at something on the dance floor.
Naruto follows his gaze. He scans the room for a moment until he spots Ino who appears to have convinced the setting rays of the sun to converge on her, making her blond hair and golden outfit almost sparkle.
“For Ino’s wedding gift,” Shikaku answers, and there’s no mistaking his amusement.
Naruto blinks, for a moment not comprehending. Then he remembers his conversation with Sakura from a week ago and comprehends all too well.
“Oh shit, is she actually doing it?” he asks around a wheeze.
Shikaku snorts. “You have to ask?”
Which is, Naruto supposes, fair enough.
It’s Ino.
Of course she is.
Ino approaches Ibiki, who’s just wrapped up a dance with one of Temari’s many aunts, much like a cougar would stalk her prey. When she’s next to him, she raises one hand and, as if on cue, the music quietens.
Likely, she’s bribed, possibly threatened, the band into compliance.
Then she gets down on one knee and brings out a small box that opens to reveal a silver ring which is, much like Sakura had said, rather cute.
Unlike the ring, Ino’s face isn’t cute, though she does look rather pleased with herself. “Marry me?” she asks, voice carrying all throughout the venue.
Ibiki raises an eyebrow but takes the ring, inspecting it. Then he laughs and slips it on his finger. “I suppose I must,” he answers.
Ino’s face splits into a wide grin that’s on the verge of being a smirk.
All of Temari’s guests clap politely, while the Konoha people, who know much better, only watch on in slight horror. Except Sakura, who also claps but does so in a very unimpressed manner.
Shikamaru, who had been dancing with Temari only a few feet away, sighs loudly.
“Honestly, I expected worse,” he says, sounding both pleasantly surprised and vaguely disappointed in Ino.
Ino only laughs.
“Oh, I decided I could be kind,” she replies, before she turns to Shikamaru with a face that really couldn’t inspire trust in anyone. “I figured that learning your roommate is fucking your father would be big enough of a shock - wouldn’t want you to faint at your own wedding, after all.”
Shikamaru frowns. “Naruto isn’t,” he grimaces, “fucking my father,” he protests.
Ino laughs. “Oh, isn’t he?” she asks, and gestures at Naruto.
Seeing as Shikaku’s hand is still carding through Naruto’s hair and Naruto’s face is still red, there really is no hiding the truth when Shikamaru turns to look in their direction.
Especially not when Shikaku decides to lean over and place a kiss on Naruto’s temple.
Naruto feels his blush deepen.
From the other side of the room, Kiba hollers loudly.
Shikamaru’s face remains blank and uncomprehending for a few long moments before something akin to horror settles in.
Naruto would feel bad for him, but -
Well.
He rather doesn’t.
“Hey,” Temari says as she pats Shikamaru on the arm, “since when is your father fucking Naruto?”
“I honestly don’t want to know,” Shikamaru answers in a defeated voice.
Ino, because she’s Ino, doesn’t give him the option not to. “Oh, they hooked up at your stag party,” she says and slaps him on the back. “So, as far as I’m concerned, you helped bring them together. Truly, nothing puts love in the air like a wedding.”
Shikamaru, because he’s Shikamaru, pinches the bridge of his nose with fingers.
“Sometimes, I don’t even know why I’m friends with you,” he grumbles.
Ino only cackles in reply.
The band resumes playing, and, while Shikamaru is swept off his feet by Temari in a dance much unlike what Naruto’s used to seeing in Konoha, and Ino starts dragging Ibiki across the room to do Gods know what, Shikaku takes Naruto’s hand in his and intertwines their fingers.
“Want to get out of here?” he asks.
And, really, there is only one correct answer to that question.