"Ugh!" Sakura stared in disbelief at the board in between them and shook her head. She rubbed a hand over her face and leaned back, shaking her head. "I can't believe it. I really thought I almost got you this time."

Shikaku's lips quirked and he chuckled. "Maybe you should work on winning against my son before you even think about winning against me."

"Shikamaru said that he's been beating you," Sakura retorted, her eyebrows raised, but there was a tilting lilt to her lips that spoke of her teasing. Shikaku coughed to hide his laugh and he leaned in, propping his elbows up on his knees.

"That boy beats me once a month. He has a long way to go."

Sakura's tongue darted out to lick her lips, and no, Shikaku was not looking. He didn't notice the plumpness of her bottom lip, cherry red and tempting, or the sheen of it, slick with her saliva. Definitely not. He looked away and picked up the cup of sake to sip it in an effort to distract his hands.

Sakura was quiet for a moment before a glint appeared in her green eyes.

"Maybe," Sakura started coyly as she leaned back closer to match him. She put her elbow up on the board and propped her chin on her hand, fluttering her eyelashes in an exaggerated motion. Shikaku's face twitched at her sudden closeness. "Maybe we should up the takes, give it more risk."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really. And how would that help you?"

She grinned and tilted her head, and idly, Shikaku watched the way her hair moved to the side, revealing her slender, creamy neck. He swallowed.

"I perform well under pressure, Nara-sama."

"Shikaku."

Her eyebrows raised and Shikaku quickly amended himself. "Call me Shikaku, Sakura. I feel like we've been playing long enough for you to call me by my given name."

With pleased satisfaction, Shikaku noted the sudden red flush on her cheeks. She ducked her head, a contrast to the coy confidence she had displayed only moments prior. Haruno Sakura was an enigma. Civilian born, yet standing level with clan children as if it was nothing. A sweetness to her that was belied by her fierce strength and quick temper, unwilling to take any shit from anyone. A determination to prove herself supported by her quick mind and her intellectual wit. A kindness she showed to those she loved.

Just exactly Shikaku's type.

"Shikaku," Sakura corrected herself, voice breathy. Their eyes locked, a heated gaze that stirred something deep inside of him. There was a tension in the air, broken only when Sakura looked away. Shikaku eyed the way the flush had spread down her neck, and not for the first time, he wanted. She was so young, 20 to his 45, and even if she had survived the 4th shinobi war, just like him, she still held on to so much innocence.

She had seen death, had faced a goddess and sucker punched her, had healed countless lives, and yet Shikaku still felt so old next to her. Haruno Sakura was still so vibrant with life and youth and he found her beautiful.

"What are your stakes?" he asked, his voice rough, and Sakura's eyes darkened, her lips parting.

"How about this? For every piece that gets captured, you have to drink, and for every piece you put back into play from your mochigoma, you drink."

Shikaku motioned to the bottle he had steadily been drinking from since their game started and gave her a lazy smirk, his scars pulling at his face. "I've been drinking already if you haven't noticed."

"Sake?" Sakura mocked playfully, "Let's move on to shochu, then. Something with a little more kick."

"You'll regret this," Shikaku chuckled.

"Don't worry," Sakura grinned, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ears. "I won't."

checkmate

Cool head, agile mind, he told himself. He had managed to keep a cool head in front of the Kyuubi, in front of hundreds of enemy shinobi, even against the Juubi. His ability to think of strategies and brilliant plans was matched only by his son. Shikaku prided himself on his level head, on his ability to stay calm despite everything and anything, and yet…

Right now, in face of a single, shirtless woman, Shikaku quickly found himself losing his cool.

The game had progressed after Sakura had lost again, and she had insisted on a new rule that every time someone promoted a piece, they had to take off an article of clothing in exchange. Sakura had cheekily taken off her hitai-ate first, and then slowly, steadily, she had ended up first in just her bindings, and then after she promoted her silver general, she took them off with a quick slice from a kunai.

Shikaku could only hope that Shikamaru wouldn't come back early from his trip to Suna and end up catching his father and his friend in a compromising position. He himself was down to only his pants, and he couldn't deny that he was distracted, and dangerously so.

His eyes were constantly drawn to the round pertness of Sakura's breasts, the hard peaks of her nipples from the cold air, and the slight flush from the alcohol that had spread over her chest. Sakura captured his rook and he cursed inwardly but kept his features cool, even as he inwardly berated himself for missing the threat of Sakura's piece. He reached out and took a long sip from his cup of shochu.

He dropped it back down beside him and met Sakura's eyes, a flicker of amusement and heat running through him as he caught Sakura eyeing him in appreciation once more. She was sloppy, her straying eyes over his chest, his arms, and his mouth were blatant, no subtlety at all. Maybe she lacked it, or maybe it was the alcohol, Shikaku didn't know.

Yet Sakura had no shame at getting caught staring. She simply met his gaze steadily and smiled.

Shikaku glanced back down at the board and refrained from smirking. In three moves, he'd have her. He moved a piece and Sakura frowned at the move.

"What do I get if I win?" he asked and Sakura's eyebrows shot up. She tilted her head, a slow smile rising on her lips.

"So confident you'll win," she murmured instead of answering his question. As she took in a deep breath, Shikaku couldn't help but watch the rise and fall of her front.

"What do I get?" he repeated.

"Anything. Anything you want," Sakura whispered, her voice catching slightly. She licked her lips, her fingers twitching at the edge of the board before she reached out and moved her promoted silver general. Shikaku hid his smirk and moved another piece, capturing one of hers. Sakura didn't take her eyes off him as she drank down the last dredges of her drink.

She hesitated, staring down at the board, and Shikaku could feel anticipation thrumming in his veins. It was an effort to reign in his chakra and the excitement brewing inside of him so as to not set Sakura off. Never before has he ever felt this excited about winning a game. His eyes traced over her face, the graceful slope of her shoulders, the defined muscles of her arms and-

"Checkmate."

Shikaku froze.

His eyes darted back down to the board and he saw now what he had missed ever since Sakura had sliced off her bindings. He groaned and rubbed a hand down his face, shaking his head ruefully. He had taught her this strategy, he couldn't believe he had fallen for it.

He looked back up to meet her eyes and he found himself frozen again, but for a much different reason. Sakura's gaze was heated, a mixed expression of smugness at her very first win against him after months of playing, and lust. Pure, blinding lust, directed at him.

"What do I get for winning?" she breathed, throwing his words back at him. He swallowed, his whole body warm and his pants tight.

"Anything," he parroted her. "Anything you want."

It was no surprise to either of them when Sakura climbed into his lap and slotted her lips against his, her bare skin soft and warm against his.

Checkmate, indeed.

OMAKE:

"She won against you, really?"

"There were extenuating circumstances," Shikaku explained patiently to his son and Sakura laughed loudly, covering her mouth. She shook her head.

"Nuh uh, a shinobi must be prepared for anything, and use everything to their advantage."

Shikaku chuckled and tilted his head in acceptance. "Troublesome woman," he muttered fondly.

prompt was Shikaku/Sakura