My Type of Guy
Disclaimer: Yeah to the fucking hell right I own Naruto. Hint, hint: sarcasm.
A/N: Huzzah for ShikaTema! Tis my OTP for het in this fandom. Since I've been reading this awesome NaruTema fic called "After the Pain", I felt I owed this couple attention.
Summary: Shikamaru thinks I like guys like Naruto. Y'know, the loudmouths who fight back when I put them down, the go-getters? Hah, if only he knew.
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I've worked with a lot of people.
After Kankurou's stubborn bravado and Gaara's I-hear-you-but-I'm-going-to-ignore-you attitude, his utter compliance with my orders came as a shock.
After working with Kiba the loudmouth, and Ino, She Who Never Shuts Up, his calm demeanor was unsettling.
Having dealt with Sasuke's moods and Kakashi's pervertedness, his steadfast behavior and instinctive deference to my privacy needs left me off-balance.
Having survived Rock Lee's youthfulness and Neji's drivel about destiny, his lightheartedness and wry humor was nonplussing.
Nara Shikamaru. My teammate of one month. About a fortnight ago, our respective village leaders had appointed us to jointly represent the alliance between Konoha and Suna at meetings around the world. We were currently in a tropical country, relaxing before the ball started tonight. Inwardly I groaned—we're shinobi, for the love of god, why do we need to attend balls? But as Shikamaru already pointed out earlier today, we're not shinobi at the moment; we're ambassadors. And ambassadors attend balls.
It's not that I mind being in charge; quite the opposite, I relish control. It's just that I'm used to having to wrestle the reins from males who think they can do better than me just because they've got something between their legs that I don't. But since the very first day, when he asked me, "So, where to, cap'n?" as though I was the one who knew what had to happen, I've been in charge. And the funny thing is, he doesn't resent it. He doesn't challenge it. Don't get me wrong, he's not meek and submissive. He isn't afraid to point out flaws in my plan or outright shoot them down with his superior strategies. It's just…we're equals. It makes sense for me to lead, being the aggressive one, and it makes sense for him to watch out backs, being the level-headed one.
"Penny for your thoughts." His voice jerked me back to the present.
"My thoughts are worth more than that."
He waved a twenty rhou note in the air, and I manipulated the air currents to pluck it out of his hand and drop it on my bed. "I'm thinking of my teammate."
He turned to look at me. "Oh? What about him?"
"He's different from the ones I've worked with so far."
"Good different?"
I shrugged to show my uncertainty. "When I first met him, he was a lazy ass bugger. But he grew up to learn responsibility isn't so bad, even though many things are still troublesome."
Shikamaru sat up in his bed, facing me properly. The ambassadors' chambers we've been designated are quite luxurious, and his bed was a good ten feet away from mine. "Can we stop talking about me in third person? It's a little creepy."
"Your call."
"You really thought I was a lazy ass bugger?"
"Well, you were! I mean what kind of person gives up a battle they won?" I asked, reminding him of the chuunin exams.
"Yeah," he grinned, "I remember Naruto's face when I did. He never could grasp the concept of giving up."
"That's what brought back the Uchiha though, innit? I like Naruto, he's got real spunk."
"Yeah," Shikamaru echoed, "Spunk. I guess you'd like guys like him, huh? Real go-getters. Energetic, enthusiastic, guys who give back as good as they get. Guys who don't just sit back and let things be. Yeah, all that sexual tension in an argument…must make them attractive."
I peered curiously at him. "What are you talking about?"
"Your type of guy. It figures you'd like guys like Naruto."
"Shikamaru! I like Naruto the same way I like Gaara! He's not my type of guy!"
"He's not?" Was it my imagination or was the Nara looking relieved?
"No. Why do you care, anyway? Planning to hook us up, were you?"
"I like you," he said nonchalantly, "I was worried I'd never have a chance."
Well that was…unexpected. "Huh? You like me?"
"Yeah."
Okay, let's be honest here for a minute. I haven't had many boys ask me out. In fact, he's the first to confess interest in me. What can I say? My entire life has been about keeping my brothers and my village safe. Who has time to lose their virginity when you're a shinobi as busy as I am? It's not enough that I'm an amazing ninja—I've gotta have a love life too? No thank you.
Still, I've seen the movies. And while I may have nil experience, I happen to know that 'Yeah, I like you,' is not a proper declaration of affection. I mean, where was the poetry? Where were the flowers? Where were the candles, where was the drama?
Okay, maybe I've been watching too many movies.
But, still! I searched in vain for a response, something to say that doesn't reveal how nonplussed I am at his comment. A scene from a movie comes to mind.
"Use your best pick up line," she laughs. He grins mischievously. "My best one? You're not gonna fall for anything less?"
"Gee, I hope not," she says. He leans in swiftly for a kiss. When he pulls away, her eyes are unfocussed.
"Wow, you are really good at that."
Definitely
not. First of all, it'd be awfully hard to lean in for a swift kiss
from ten feet away. Secondly…just no. Ew. Could it get any
cheesier?
There's a knock on the door, and a steward enters.
"The ball starts in two hours," he announced, "Ambassador-sama
and ambassador-sama should get ready."
Shikamaru and I sigh,
resigned to being plucked and preened into shape.
0000000000000000000000000000000
"Temari, we have to participate in at least the first dance," he explained, "It would be impolite not to!"
"No one told me I had to dance on this mission," I snapped petulantly, crossing my arms.
"I know. It sucks. But guess what? We're doing it. Trust me, alright? I'm a good dancer."
I held out my hand, and he took it, guiding me onto the floor. The other ladies tittered a little—they were in Western evening gowns, and I was in a kimono. So sue me, I'd never worn anything else in my life and I wasn't about to conform now. Shikamaru was in a tux, and I had to admire the broadness of his chest and shoulders. How is it that men cannot manage to look bad in tuxedos? It's so unfair. All I wanted to do was drag him away and rip off all his clothes with my teeth—
Whoa. The perfumed air must've been getting to me. Why else would I put Shikamaru and ripping off clothes with my teeth together?
He placed a hand on my upper back, supporting my arm with his. I laid my hand on his shoulder, and he took my other one in his, and we were off. The strange thing was, I didn't notice how awkward it was, how the fellow dignitaries were suppressing smirks, how I kept stepping on his toes.
I'd made the mistake of looking into his eyes.
Small and dark, like blackberries, they engulfed me in their capacity for warmth and understanding. Intelligence sparked in their basalt depths as his cheeks flushed from the sting of my two left feet on his quick toes, the heat of the summer evening, and possibly from being stared at so blatantly by me. I didn't care. I couldn't look away—no, I could. I didn't want to. My hand moved from his shoulder to wrap around his neck, and his hand shifted to the small of my back, right above the curve of my arse, pulling me into him. Electricity jumped between us as our bodies were painfully close, yet far away. Finally, the song ended, but instead of sweeping me back to my seat, he continued to twirl me around the floor to the next song, a livelier tune. He hugged me close, and his breath was in my ear, whispering so rapturously I took a minute to decipher the words.
"So what is your type of guy, Temari?"
Now, this was more like the movies. And if it felt cheesy, it was in a good way. In a I-could-melt-in-my-shoes way instead of a I-could-piss-myself-laughing way.
"My type of guy?" I whispered back, "I like lazy ass buggers the best."
He chuckled in my ear, and kissed my neck. "Do I fit the bill, then?"
"You'll do for now. And," I sighed happily as he nipped at my ear, "Stop that. It's not professional."
Instead of obeying, he dipped me sharply and brushed his lips against my collar bone. I raised an eyebrow as we straightened again.
"I can't always be listening to you, now can I?" he teased, and the song ended with a flourish.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x
The movie doesn't exist to my knowledge.