Chapter Text
"Aren’t you even a little curious?"
Shikamaru’s response is a series of unintelligible grunts, and Ino pokes him in the arm with more force than necessary. He still doesn’t look at her, his eyes fixed on the sky as clouds lazily shift across the blue canvas above their heads.
"Shikamaru, are you even listening to me?" She must know she’s whining by now, but his passivity always has that effect on her. The more Shikamaru ignores her, the more upset she gets. For a genius, he sure took a while to connect the dots.
Silence falls between them, and she lies down beside him, defeated, their arms touching. The distant sounds of the town keep them company as they quietly watch white clouds mix with blue. Someone could easily think she’s given up, but only a fool would believe Ino Yamanaka to be that docile, and Shikamaru is no fool.
As expected, he hears her huffing and fidgeting beside him, gearing up for a new attack.
"Come on, Shika…" Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, and when he turns on his side, he’s met by a pair of big, blue, pleading eyes. "All my firsts have been with you."
For a moment, he wonders if anyone in the world can say no to those eyes.
"Troublesome."
Just like that, he’s agreed.
She hugs him and pulls him up, giggling excitedly. Shikamaru rolls his eyes, trying to suppress another series of grunts, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.
"You do know it’s not the same as your first sleepover or the first time you rode a bike," he points out in that patronizing tone she detests.
"Duh!" Ino crosses her arms, chin up in the air. "But we have to, Shika! I don’t want to be unprepared for when—"
"I know, I know. Sasuke." He interrupts her, suddenly rethinking the whole thing. He’s still got time to make a run for it. He glances around for possible escape routes and sighs. Too troublesome. And, if he’s honest, some small part of him doesn’t want to run, not when Ino is so close, smells like flowers, and her lips—he notices for the first time—are so pink and soft.
"It’s just practice!" she says assertively, hands on her hips. "Besides, with you, it doesn’t count."
He wants to point out how flawed her logic is but doesn’t. He’s only thirteen, but he’s already developed a good instinct for which fights are worth having and when to keep his mouth shut.
"So, how do we do this?" he finally asks after a few seconds. Ino seems to lose her bravado for just a moment. She furrows her brow and puffs out her cheeks like she’s devising a strategy for a complex mission.
"Close your eyes," she orders with a confidence he knows she’s faking, but it still makes him want to trust her.
He senses her getting closer, then retreating, a few nervous giggles escaping her. She does it a few times, and he gets more and more anxious. He wipes his palms on his legs, feeling vulnerable and stupid. What if she chickens out? What if she changes her mind? What if she sees him up close and decides he’s the most hideous boy in the class and leaves him gaping like a fish out of water? He’s about to have his first kiss—he has every right to feel a bit nervous. And he doesn’t know what he did in a past life to get this lucky, because there’s no prettier girl in the world than Ino.
"Come on, Ino, we don’t have all d—" Her lips press hard against his, and for a moment, he almost falls backward, saved only by his hands pressed against the grass behind him.
They stay like that for a few awkward seconds, both stiff as steel. He even stops breathing, afraid to do anything but sit perfectly still with Ino’s lips painfully pressed against his.
He feels her shift, and a second later, he’s free. When he opens his eyes, Ino is looking at him with a puzzled expression, and he knows they aren’t done.
"Mmh." She pouts, clearly unsatisfied.
"Mmh what?" He feels the need to be defensive. It’s not his fault her first kiss sucked. She should’ve known he had no experience. What was she expecting?
"Let’s try again, but this time, do something!" She hits him on the shoulder, interrupting his internal panicking monologue.
"What do you mean, again? Do what, exactly? Should I remind you this is my first kiss too?"
She hums in agreement, and Shikamaru can almost see the gears turning in her head.
"Maybe we should move," she finally says, leaning toward him, causing him to shift his weight back. Ino is so close, her big blue eyes focused on him. His palms are clammy again, and his heart is ringing annoyingly in his ears. This is all such a drag.
Her lips meet his.
This time, he sees her clearly—eyes shut, nose scrunched in concentration. She’s always been a stubborn girl. He smiles against her lips, and she must feel it because her shoulders drop, her features relax, and she starts moving.
Ino is kissing him— kissing-kissing him—and her lips are soft and sweet. Shikamaru’s eyelids drop as he finds himself responding, tentatively at first, almost scared she’ll pull away. But then, as the voices in his head fade, something more urgent grows inside him, and all hesitation disappears.
Just when he thinks he’s figured out this whole kissing thing, Ino opens her lips.
He panics, but only for a second, before he follows her lead, parting his lips and letting his tongue meet hers. The kiss becomes sloppy, wet, hungry, their teeth clashing, but they don’t stop.
They keep exploring, enjoying the thrill of something they both know should’ve ended already. When they finally pull apart, dizzy and breathless, Ino’s ponytail has come undone, her cheeks are flushed, and she’s looking at him through half-lidded eyes.
"H-how was it?" he asks, still catching his breath.
She bites her lip, a sly smile lighting up her face. "Wet."
"Troublesome."
"All my firsts have been with you," she had said. So why would this be any different?
He doesn’t quite remember how they started arguing about that particular topic, but he knows Ino, and he knows for certain that nothing good will come of it. He’s tried not to think about the day they shared their first kiss, especially during missions where they found themselves closer than he was comfortable admitting. He’s purposefully repressed any memory even remotely connected to that exchange of saliva.
But he’s still just a boy. A teenage boy, to be specific, which comes with the whole package of puberty-related miseries: unwanted pimples, embarrassing hard-ons at the worst possible moments, and raging hormones.
In those three years, he might’ve thought about Ino’s lips once or maybe twice. Maybe a couple hundred times. Who could fault him when he’s not the only one who’s grown? And Ino’s changes have been hard to miss—just ask any boy from their old class at the academy.
She was complaining about Sakura kissing some guy, and he still doesn’t know why he said it. He’s usually a master at zoning her out, so he really doesn’t know why this time he decided to run his smart mouth. His mom is right—that witty tongue of his will be his end.
"Do you wanna practice some more?"
"What did you say?" she asks, eyes widening at the implications of his words.
"You have to stop screwing around when Choji’s there," Ino knows he isn’t really angry; his tone contradicts his words. "Do it again," is what he’s really saying. If she’s learned one thing about her teammate, it’s that Shikamaru is a little freak.
"Come on, it was just a little footsie. You know he only has eyes for food when we’re out for dinner." She bumps into his shoulder and giggles, trying to regain her balance. Her head is pleasantly dizzy, her cheeks warm from the alcohol.
"Your little game gave me a boner. I spent half the night imagining the most gruesome things to calm down," his walk is also unsteady and wobbly.
"Sarutobi at the onsen?"
"Sarutobi at the onsen."
She laughs, her whole heart in it, and Shikamaru smiles too. She loves making him smile. It’s her personal challenge to see how many she can steal from him.
Six months have passed since that day in her room, and in that time they’ve had a little more practice. Or at least that was the excuse they used before dropping all pretenses. It’s been fun and daring, and like all teenagers, they’re hopelessly curious. And it’s not like they’ve ever gone all the way. It didn’t count. It was harmless, or so they kept telling themselves.
She hooks an arm under his as they sway lazily down the streets of Konoha. She enjoys the warmth of his body against hers and tightens her grip. She’s never uncomfortable with Shikamaru, not even after everything that’s happened between them. She knows their relationship isn’t conventional. They’re friends, and something more. Few would understand. And maybe they’re in the wrong—friends shouldn’t kiss, play footsie under the table, or know how to make each other come just by using their tongue. But she can’t seem to stop. When they’re together, everything feels so natural, fun, and raw that all those morally loaded questions become irrelevant.
Once in front of her apartment, she fumbles with her keys while Shikamaru draws shapes in the dirt with his sandal.
"All this talk has made me horny," she hears him chuckle, his deep laugh stirring something inside her.
"Talking about the Third Hokage made you horny?" Ino punches him in the shoulder, and he takes the blow, one he could have easily dodged. He steps closer, and Ino leans against her front door, batting her eyelashes slowly. Shikamaru’s frame looms over her, his arm resting beside her head. It’s a dance they’ve played before. She giggles, her heart thudding in her ears, and as she looks into his eyes, a smile fights its way onto her lips.
"Are you willing to lend me a helping hand?" she teases, biting her lip.
"Hand, mouth, you know I was born to help."
"I’ve never seen you so proactive, Nara."
He leans closer, his breath hot on her cheek. "You know I work well with incentives."
Her stomach flutters, and for a moment, she’s lost for words. Her heart beats loudly in her ears, and a pleasant heat spreads between her legs. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it was always meant to end this way, ever since they shared their first kiss so many years ago. A part of her has always known he would be the one.
She stands on her tiptoes and steals a quick peck. "You inside me—would that be enough of an incentive?" she whispers. Shikamaru takes a second to process her words, but when he starts to pull away, Ino keeps him close, gripping his jacket.
"I’m serious, Shika," she whines a little when she sees him scowl. "I’m tired of hearing my friends’ horror stories about their first time. With you, I know it wouldn’t be so bad."
He hesitates, his scowl shifting to an expression Ino can’t quite read. Her mind starts spinning, doubts creeping in. Maybe Shikamaru doesn’t want his first time to be with her. How presumptuous of her to assume he would agree. She suddenly feels small and vulnerable, shame making her chest heavy. But then, his hand finds her waist, and his knee pushes between her legs.
"How do you know?" His voice is low, deep, and it goes straight to her core.
"I always feel safe with you," she says softly. "You know me better than anyone." He lowers his eyes, and even in the faint light of the streetlamp, Ino can see his cheeks coloring. "You’re my best friend—who better than you?"
He chuckles, his fingers tapping lightly on her skin.
"Best friends don’t do stuff like this, Ino," he draws out her name, trying to sound stern, but Ino can see the smirk tugging at his lips.
"Who says?" She grabs his chin, lifting his head to meet her gaze, and Shikamaru’s smirk blooms into a full smile.
"You’re unbelievable." She kisses him hard, and Shikamaru pulls her close, wrapping her in his arms.
"I just think I’d be lucky if you were my first," she says with a smile.
"You know, Ino… all my firsts have been with you too."
“You are worse than a toxic ex.” She huffs between thrusts, and Shikamaru chuckles against her neck. “Why am I always coming ba—back?” She isn’t done, but the words mix with moans, and her mind goes blank.
“If you want me to stop, you just have to ask.” He cadences each word with a thrust, and Ino’s lids close shut as she hugs him tighter, her perfectly manicured nails sinking into his back.
“Don’t you dare, Shikamaru,” she pants, breathless, but the rhythm changes, and he starts to slow his ministrations.
“What do you want?” he asks, stopping deep inside her and forcing her to face him with a hand on her chin. For a second, Ino has no words as she looks into his eyes, his long hair falling on either side of his face and caressing her cheeks. They are so close she can see little droplets of sweat on his forehead. His features have hardened; his jaw is more defined, and there’s little left of the young boy she grew up with. For a moment, probably drunk on lust, she thinks he is the hottest man she has ever seen.
She raises her head from the pillow to steal a kiss, but he doesn’t let her, a signature smart-ass smirk on his lips.
“What do you want, Ino?” he repeats cockily, and again Ino wonders who this man is and where is the kid who was too shy to look her in the eyes when her bra was off.
“Shikamaru…” she whines, “Just—faster.”
“Faster what?” she grunts, trying to move her hips, but he pins her on the mattress with his full weight.
“I’m going to kill you,” she says as he exits her. Ino’s eyes widen as she feels his tip teasing her lips, slowly dragging up and down.
“Use your words, Ino.” The little shit. She stops moving and locks eyes with him. When she speaks next, her voice is firm and her gaze doesn’t falter.
“I want you to fuck me fast and hard, Shikamaru. What’s so hard to get?”
She talks a lot after sex, and some men don’t like it. But with Shikamaru, it’s different. She doesn’t have to pretend to be someone else. And he listens; she is sure he does because he always remembers even the smallest details she shares.
“Where were you hiding these shoulders, Nara?” she teases, weakly punching his chest. “Suna’s weather works magic.”
This is how it goes: they have sex—each time better than the last, or so it is for her, anyway—and then they just talk. In all honesty, she does the majority of the talking, and he grunts his approval or disapproval—two different types of grunts she has become a master at differentiating—and then, they fall asleep. Sometimes, he also opens up, usually after a difficult mission or if they haven’t seen each other for a while. This is happening more often now that they aren’t kids anymore. They haven’t done a mission together in over a year. Did she know that mission together would be their last? Sometimes, Ino wonders about the last time they will sleep together. The last time she will kiss him and know the boy under her touch is completely and utterly hers. When she thinks about it, a strange type of grief fills her chest, and she has to banish those thoughts.
“I’m thinking of going out with him.” She feels him tense beneath her, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “With Sai, you know…”
“You can do better.” She smiles—he always says that—and hugs him tighter.
“I’ve missed this,” she casually says, intertwining her legs with his. And it’s true; they haven’t seen each other in more than four months, and she has been thinking about him more than she is comfortable admitting.
She lets herself be lulled by his even breath, and finally, her eyes start closing too.
“Me too.”
His voice is no more than a whisper in the darkness of the room, and Ino will never know if it is real or a cruel joke of her sleep-deprived mind.
“This is the last time.” Shikamaru grabs her legs and pulls her closer, her body sliding on the mattress.
“I’m with Sai now.” He doesn’t understand why she keeps reminding him; he is very well aware of her current dating situation.
She shivers in his hands when he plants a kiss on her inner thigh, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin.
“The last time.” He rolls his eyes, his fingers sink deep into her soft flesh and she moans. Ino has always liked a little bit of pain.
“Ino, shut up and let me eat you out.” He spreads her legs with more force than he intended, and when he raises his gaze, her big blue eyes are looking at him, amused.
“For the last time,” his heart misses a beat at that sly smile on her lips, but he has little time to recover because one of her hands finds its way through his hair, gently pushing his head forward.
“Troublesome woman.” He plants a kiss on her lips, that sweet, familiar scent of arousal filling his senses. She jumps on the bed, but his hands keep her pinned to the mattress.
“Shikamaru! Your stubble is tickling me!” He chuckles and rubs his face between her thighs, making her giggle as her legs close slightly around his head.
“Stop screwing around and get to work!” She tilts her hips in support of her words, her thighs brushing against his cheeks.
“Screwing around is exactly what I’m trying to do.” Before she can respond, he silences her with his tongue.
“Why are we still doing this?” he asks that night when he thinks she is already sleeping.
“I… I don’t know.” Her voice is low and tired, but not sleepy. “With you, it’s different,” she says after a few long seconds during which Shikamaru loses even the ability to breathe.
“It is.” It’s the only thing he manages to say while thousands of other thoughts flood his mind.
“Aren’t you scared we have ruined each other for anyone else?” She is joking, but there is something bittersweet hidden behind her words.
“I try not to think about it,” he answers truthfully. He never considers the implications of everything they have shared; when he does, the world loses all its logic, and it’s hard to navigate a world without rules, even for a genius.
“Who else?” he would like to ask. But he doesn’t want to sound pathetic. There hasn’t been anyone else for him. How could it be when she devours every single waking moment of his life? He has never been interested in anyone else, because none of them are Ino. His is a particular type of masochism. He knows that what they are doing is slowly eating at him, but he can’t even imagine a life where his arms will never hold her again. If that’s the only way he can get her, he will never say no.
He knows she is looking at him, but his gaze is stuck to the ceiling, unable to face her, almost as if he is scared her eyes can read his thoughts.
“I’m leaving for Suna. I’ll be gone for a few months.” He doesn’t know why he says it. Maybe part of him wants her to miss him.
He hears her fumble with the sheets, and the mattress rises as she stands and starts looking for her clothes.
“We should stop,” she says, her voice hanging in the darkness of the room.
He doesn’t answer, and she leaves.
The first time—of many to come—she refuses him, Shikamaru's chest clenches with so much anger it's almost painful to breathe. He feels like a puppet she discards whenever she pleases, but he has no right to tell her that, because it's what he has agreed to. He has never been more than a game they started as kids. He has fooled himself into believing that maybe, just maybe, she would finally see him. For that, he has no one to blame but himself.
The first time—of many to come—he refuses her, she feels her chest sink with grief. It’s not too different from what she felt when her dad died. It makes her feel even worse. How dare she compare the two? But what has always been there is suddenly gone, and Ino feels—for the second time in her life—like the loneliest woman on Earth. She tries to smile to hide her heart folding in on itself. It was always supposed to end like this, and she knows it, but knowing doesn’t make it any less painful. Shikamaru can't even meet her eyes. “We are still friends” he says in an apology and she nods with a little too much vigor. “Of course,” she answers, while all she can think is she has ruined it all.
She knows she should go to bed and put to rest all those little fantasies her mind is conjuring up. It’s a little past two; outside, it is dark and silent, and the last few lights in her street have been turned off. Adrenaline runs through her body with the promise of something forbidden, something raw and rough, and she can’t sleep, her thighs rubbing together over the pool of heat between them.
She also knows he is not coming. Not after a mission that dangerous. Not after having just smoothed things over with Temari. Not after she has repeatedly told him she doesn’t want him anymore. They promised each other they would be better people. He will not come. He shouldn’t. For a brief second, she hopes he will be the stronger between the two. It was supposed to be just a game, a distraction, while they both waited for someone real. Shikamaru has found that someone. She should be happy for him, not drag him further into the pit of sin and confused feelings they have been burying themselves in since they were teens.
She puffs her cheek in annoyance as she glances one last time at the clock, her face red and warm. Ino feels like a child without her toy.
The moment she stands up to turn off the light, she hears a faint knock on the window. She doesn’t need to turn to know who is outside waiting for her. She represses a smile, but she can’t stop the anxious fluttering in her stomach.
She takes her time to open the window, purposely swaying her hips as she walks toward him. The lock clicks, and from then on, it’s all downhill; that dark, sinful pit of all their bad decisions swallows them whole.
His hand finds its way behind her head and forcefully pushes her forward, all reason forgotten. He kisses her with urgency, almost desperately, teeth clashing as he pushes himself into her house.
Sometimes she likes to think that their fate is controlled by a force much bigger than them both. They try to stay far away from each other, but invisible hands keep pushing them closer. That silly thought makes her guilt a bit more bearable.
He smells like dirt and blood, and his hands sink into her white locks. She moans when he bites her neck, his teeth marking her skin with hunger.
It’s wrong and dirty, and it will send her to hell. This thing between them has lost all the naivety and innocence that once existed when they were awkward teenagers discovering each other. And she has tried to stop it, to put an end to what should have never started, but when she sees those eyes—those dark, dark eyes full of lust for her—she inevitably caves in.
Any resistance is futile. After all, she has never been one for principles and wise decisions. She is selfish, lustful, and weak.
“You have a girlfriend now,” she mumbles against his hot lips, his tongue fighting for access. She is pretending to be someone she is not.
“And you have a boyfriend,” he retorts without stopping. “You said it yourself. With you, it doesn’t count.”
She has been obsessing about endings all her life. The quiet blessing of ignoring when something ordinary, but deeply familiar, will disappear from your life. The last time her dad told her “I love you”. The last time Asuma corrected her stance during training. That type of knowledge could turn a woman insane. That night, when Shikamaru tells her those words something between them breaks. She wishes she could ignore it, could keep pretending nothing has changed. But she knows that was the last time she kissed him with love stronger than her shame.