Recently, I have been on this Shika/Neji craze that is a bit too unhealthy for my taste. Anyways, in a day, I just got this sudden idea for a story like this. I don't really know how long it will be, but at the least over 4 chapters. This is only the beginning, so I promise it will get much better.

A sigh drifted from Shikmaru's lips; behind the mountain of files he carried, floating away in the dull breeze. Already Monday and he had a stack of paperwork to complete by the end of the week. The weight of the heap was surprisingly heavier than one would think, and crushed the man's spirits of having a relaxing time back from his mission. Shikamaru shuddered to think about how much sleep he'd be losing, hiking within the papers armed with stamps, pens, and highlighters while simultaneously typing up a report for Tsunade.

As he walked with the meter high pile, he was careful to avoid the local villagers that made his journey home more difficult. Children ran around, venders screamed holding different products, and a few girls huddled together to follow him. The shadow user could hear their excessive giggling with every step.

"Cute ass!" one of them shouted, instantly causing the Nara's eyes to roll.

After his last hookup with a local groupie, he was done with random girls for a while. Too clingy and not worth enough effort to full around with. They made sex excessively complicated with the demands of commitment he was unwilling to reciprocate.

Another sigh escaped his mouth, adding to the stress imposed by the monstrous stack and the small vow of abstinence he promised himself. Lately, life had been nothing but work for the genius. Though he accepted his natural strategic abilities and humble good looks long ago, both qualities were magnets to grueling jobs and disastrous affairs as time progressed. Camping in the woods or repelling the advances of women started to burden the man. His enjoyment of either activity decreased dramatically, preferring environments of absolute silence like whenever he was alone in the bathroom.

Shikamaru completely understood his duty to his people and his asset as a ninja, but the demands of everyone around him was impeding on his personal life. He could hardly remember the last time he laid in a field just to stare at the sky, or take a nap outside of a mission briefing for the hell of it. These thoughts plagued the man as he made his way up his apartment from the Hokage's office. Each step along the steep hallway evoked a grumble the more he thought about his problems.

In some miracle, he made his way up the stairs without a hitch. He walked towards his door and, with quickness and precision, opened it while still holding onto the unstable stack of papers with a charka infused hand.

The room was fairly basic. There was a subtle, olive green tint to the walls. A plush, couch stood in the center with welcoming arms stretched open to the coffee table in front of it. To the left of the door was an indention in the room where a small table for four sat, further extending into a small kitchen. Two bookshelves filled with books and board games resided here. Further down the small apartment led to the only other door that contained the bedroom and the bathroom.

Many friends such as Ino labeled the apartment as "downright cheap" with distasteful and untrusting tones, but Shikamaru didn't need much to be happy. The couch and bed were the only places he really spent time. A computer was in his room for work, and he had all the books and board games he'd ever need to escape boredom.

However, dust covered these shelves because of his prolonged absences. While closing the door and glancing at the forgotten games, the addictive feeing of sliding game shogi pieces tickled his fingers. He sighed, angry that he could not submit to his physical and mental crave of a good board game because of his busy work.

Without remorse, he walked towards the brown table and shoved the large pile out of his hands. The impact caused a tremor as it hit the wood, shaking the room for a split second. A few of the papers flew to the ground because of the force, while the body of files cascaded all across the table. Shikamaru frowned as the once neat stack turned into a heap of bent shapes and mixed contents, compelling a mutter of troublesome.

It would take HOURS to re-organize everything into their correct files. However, the shadow-user could care less as he dove into his comfortable couch, desperately needing a few moments of inactivity. A moan escaped his lips as he swam within the comfortable cushions face first, hoping to burrow so deep that the only choice for escape was a short nap. Though he knew he should have started working on all the paperwork as soon as he opened the door, a rationalization on the benefits of sleep for his work ethic was all too persuasive.

As everyone knew, sleep was a form of art for the lazy man. After so many years of searching for the "perfect form," Shikamaru devised numerous techniques to approach a variety of restful situations. Now, he tackled the issue of sleeping on a couch too small for him for only 15 short minutes.

First, the ninja immediately scrambled out of his compressing vest. The long black-sleeved shirt soon followed in a more hurried attempt. Tossed to the side, the clothing landed on the coffee table in a messy pile. His size 12 sandals were kicked away simultaneously. Though starting to unbutton his pants, he decided the result would not equate to the effort, and left them how they were.

After this momentary strip, Shikamaru tried fitting his tall body within the average sized couch. He moaned aloud as he shifted and turned against the soft cushions. Bare skin rubbing against the pricey fabric was truly worth the spent energy moments ago. Out of anything in the apartment, the couch and bed were the most expensive items, and combined, were more expensive than everything else in the house put together (including the rent). With every subtle shift into the couch, or the way the cushions molded to his athletic form like a body of water, there was a constant reminder of how comfortable it actually was. It felt akin to lying within the soft clouds: engulfing, soft to the touch, drifting through the air.

Slowly, his movements began to construct a shape with his faced pressed deep into the cushions. His body curved with the skill of an elder cat, one who practiced lounging as if a profession, hoping to achieve the optimized comfort given the space and time. The fetal position as it was called, left Shikamaru cradled within the enclosing arms of the couch.

However, as soon as he stopped moving and shut his eyes, a loud KNOCK sounded at the door.

'No...not now…'he whispered in the softest voice.

There was no way in hell he was going to get up.

It would take way too much effort after all that energy spent just to get into the damn position.

KNOCK!

In response, Shikamaru shut his eyes even tighter. His desperation led to a prayer for Godlike intervention that would send away whatever patron or salesmen at his door. Lighting would be the preferred method, but he wouldn't mind a locust swarm; he just wanted the job done.

After an insistent amount of knocks, he heard a shout.

"Nara! I know you're in there!"

The stern tone slowly unfastened the boy's eyes as he recalled his meeting with Tsunade. He began piecing together fragments of her phrases, having to do with finding a specific file for Neji. The more his memory cogs churned, the more he remembered the Hockage screaming about the importance of the mission and that it "should be taken care of before a lazy ass nap!"

Echoes of her annoying voice rang in his ears and shook Shikamaru with a cold reality; regardless of how tired he was, he had to hand over the file at some point. Doing it now would spare another lecture given by the old woman on the importance of punctuality and paperwork. Having heard the lecture twice already was enough for a lifetime. Moreover, Neji seemed like the type of snitch that would tattle if he prolonged the affair.

With every ounce of his tired muscles, the shadow user propelled himself off the couch and onto his feet. His movements were less graceful than he intended, as the customary duel between gravity and his tired body began. Like a drunk, he fought for dominance and control against the awkward sways that tried to pull him down to the wooden floors. Once adjusting himself with a deep breath, he turned to the door with slow steps.

"I'm coming, I'm coming…," he muttered, rallying the rest of his muscles to work together and move faster before the Hyūga smashed his way in. Each step took more effort than the last as if large weights fastened themselves to his bare feet. He continued despite this setback.

As soon as Shikamaru turned the knob and opened the door, Neji's glaring, fuchsia eyes stared at him like pointed daggers. His perfectly symmetrical eyebrows scrunched together, indicating a foul mood of disastrous proportions. But from the shouting tone earlier, Shikamaru knew of the brewing resentment even without the glare. It didn't take much for the older man to get mad.

"I've been knocking on your door for 5 minutes, and yet you now open it. To keep a guest waiting for this long is unacceptable."

His supple lips closed in a thin line and his arms crossed-together against his chest. Shikamaru stared, still slouched, and wondered how he was supposed to react.

"…And? You want me to say anything in particular?"

A dragged out sigh sounded.

"Explain yourself and apologize Nara. That's all I ask before I continue on my business to this forsaken apartment."

Though not shouting and ignoring the attack on the living quarters, Shikamaru knew exactly how angry Neji was. He had been on enough missions with the older man to understand what pushed his buttons, and how he acted because of those buttons.

One of his larger pet peeves out of the many was etiquette. As a member of a prominent clan, despite being "branded," Neji grew up in an over-controlling environment. The bombardment of constant rules and expectations forced the man to project similar expectations onto others. As a result, his cold and hostile personality derived the name "Ms. Priss" within their close circle of friends.

Shikamaru recalled a recent scouting mission near the Land of Snow. He and a few others camped out in the forest, having to spy on a suspicious black market caravan that had dealings in Konoah. On the third night, the Huyuga practically screamed at Choji for taking too long with his meal and not starting his bathing exactly when the sun went down. It was brutal, as he even attacked Choji's weight, saying something along the lines of "your weight is proportional to the time it takes for you to scarf down your food." This statement caused a duel between the two that almost compromised the mission with the amount of trees that fell. If it wasn't for Tenten's expert use of restricting chains coupled with Shikamaru's own shadow technique, the two would have awoken the entire village only a few miles away.

Deep down, Shikamaru couldn't help but feel sorry for Neji. Though he did genuinely like the uptight man, his attitude resulted from his status, which made others weary of him. Though everyone praised the Hyūga for being a genius, there were few that actually enjoyed being with him.

However, despite his empathy, Shikamaru was in no mood to deal with the cold attitude. Not even a starving Chouji could garner any sympathy from the tired genius. Especially right before his first few steps into the realm of unconsciousness.

With a simple shrug of his shoulders (and no apology), Shikamaru leaned against the doorframe with his elbow, scratching the back of his neck with his other hand. He then spoke with the same tired tone his body implied.

"Well I got back from a week long mission today, and just got myself into the perfect position to take a nap. As you can guess from my clothes, I really wasn't expecting any guests visiting me since I have such a boatload of work to do. I assumed I could just give you the file at another time or something."

Fuchsia pupils drifted to Shikamaru's tight pectorals in a flicker, but quickly retreated to the man's brown eyes. The faintest hint of scarlet colored the pale cheeks, which didn't go unnoticed.

'Could he be any more obvious when checking someone out?' Shikamaru thought.

"It is impolite to dress in that manner when you greet a guest." Neji muttered, shooting his head to the side in forced disgust. Shikamaru sensed the smallest hint of embarrassment behind the man's words and guessed that his anger prevented him from actually noticing his attire when being greeted at the door. From the blush, he was sure Neji wasn't as mad about his appearance as he was pretending. Hell, after all the attention he'd been receiving lately, who wouldn't mind?

Though lazy, the shadow user bulked up some muscle because of the recent strand of insistent missions. The hard pecks, defined chest, and obvious arm muscle made him popular around the town. Compared with the leaner man, Shikamaru's athletic form had a bit more definition, a visual fact that was as obvious as the height difference between the two. Though being one of the taller shinobi in the past, Neji stopped growing around 18, while Shikamaru hit his growth spurt at 17 and having a good two inches on the other.

A cough broke Shikamaru out of his thoughts, as Neji faced him again.

"Tsunade should have told you I was coming by to pick up the file. Don't let your sleeping habits get in the way of another shinobi's work."

"My house, my rules" Shikamaru snapped, rolling his eyes at the other man's obvious discomfort. He stifled a yawn, failing to cover it as he rubbed his chiseled chest. His relaxed posture contrasted with the older man's uptight standing. Just looking at Neji made Shikamaru feel uncomfortable.

"What do you need exactly? The couch is calling my name and I really, REALLY don't want to disappoint."

Neji increased the power of his glare with the frigidness of a blizzard. Though the coldness knocked back many villagers with its harsh winds, Shikamaru remained resilient at the doorway. He was too sleepy to deal with any scare tactics, let alone a measly stare. His crankiness was surprisingly durable, and allowed him to survive even the worst social conditions, such as dealing with a troublesome teammate or his during their time of the month.

'Must have had a bad day or something to throw out one of those'

"I need the papers Tsunade entrusted to you. From my understanding, it should be the first folder, marked with-"

Without letting the other finish, Shikamaru motioned for the other to follow as he led him into his apartment. His steps held a certain slump as he walked with a slouched back, which Neji found repulsive.

"You should really straighten your back more Nara. It is unhealthy and undignified to look like a slob all the time: even in your own house."

Rolling his eyes again, Shikamaru pointed to the collapsed papers on his dining table.

"Have fun searching in there." He said calmly, as he made his way back into the plush couch for some serious napping. His eyes hurt from all their rolling at the other man, giving him an incentive for a longer nap. He dove back into the comfortable couch without another word.

Neji stared dumbfounded with his mouth open slightly ajar at the mountain of paperwork. The pile looked like a rotting animal on the side of the road, contents strewn around everywhere. There was no clear start from the actual mound as all of the papers were mixed together in a twisted, unsalvageable fashion. Anger surged through Neji's veins, as he looked at all the various papers outside of their intended folders. A red pastel began coloring his cheeks and his fists began to clench. He viciously turned to glare at Shikamaru, who was already laying in a fetal position with closed eyes.

"NARA!" he yelled with the command and terror of a Hyūga. He again, mustered his powerful glare, hoping it would drill holes into the lazy, good for nothing slob.

"Just use your Bakyugan." Shikamaru shouted. His tone seemed more like a groan than a genuine response and added to Neiji's pent up anger. To conceal the other man's insistent complaining, the younger genius buried his head between the comfortable cushions of the couch.

It was true; Neji could have located the paper faster than any other ninja in the village. However, the offense and dishonor Shikamaru presented to him was infuriating. If it wasn't the tardiness, the man's choice of apparel when he was supposed to be ready, or even the flat voice that only spoke of excuses, it was because he KNEW Shikamaru was trying to be difficult after having his nap disturbed.

"You are a disgrace of a ninja and a terrible host." Like his glares, Neji's voice felt icy to the ear's touch.

However, the only response evoked was an inaudible grumble.

Neji chose not to say anything else and turned to the table. He dug through the pile while fantasizing about striking each and every one of Shikamaru's pressure points. Within a short moment, he dug out the wrinkled file, smoothing it out with his delicate fingers. Creases in the paper made the file look as if it had been in a terrible battle with untreatable wounds.

"Does the Hockage know how irritating you are to deal with? How utterly wasteful you are of other people's times?"

Silence remained in the air, further fueling Neji's flammable temperament. It wasn't as if his day wasn't stressful either. As always, he had to wake up early to train with the other members of his family for hours. Then, since the many of the servants were given the week off, he was "honored" with the task of doing all the chores. He had been scrubbing floors, cooking meals, and tending the gardens all around the compound for 4 hours straight. Coming to the Shikamaru's apartment was the only "relaxing" thing he had done all day.

With the tip of a kunai, a painful irony struck the Hyūga. Despite going to the laziest ninja's house in all of Konah (or out of anyone he knew for that matter), he exerted more energy here than he had all day. Despite the two being friends, Shikamaru seemed to do everything Neji hated just to spite him. It didn't help that the shadow-user flaunted his broad chest and tan skin…

"You ok? You look tense."

Shikamaru's head peaked from the couch like a cautious turtle after withdrawing from its shell. He noticed the smallest jump from the other body, who seemed to be lost to his thoughts.

Neji scoffed loudly, glaring at the man's bare body.

"I'm tense because of how ridiculous it is for me to dig through YOUR pile, just to find something you were supposed to GIVE me. Plus, seeing you dressed without a shirt even though you have a guest is just irritating."

"Then why do you keep looking at my abs?"

"I…I-I am not!"

Shikamaru noted the defensive tone. It had a creaking, almost shameful texture, like a child just caught stealing from a cookie jar. It was cute, but the genius was too tired to deal with the behavior, even if he liked it.

"If you're so mad, spare me the lecture and just go already. You waste more time yelling at me then if you just read the briefing."

"I…" the words could not come out. Despite being the all-powerful Gentle Fist user, Neji was at a loss of words. He blinked furiously, squeezing the papers in his hand with a tight grip.

"I…am on my way!" he shouted, forcing his legs to move and storming out of the room. The door slammed with a quick shudder, making a large echo in the hallway. He marched down the apartment steps and pushed past other residents to feel the cool breeze against his hot face.

"I was only distracted because of how he was dressed." Neji told himself, opening the contents of the folder as soon as he was outside. His eyes scanned the mission but began to widen.

"No. Fucking. Way." he whispered.

In bold, at the top of the paper, was the words Mentor Program: Shikamaru Nara and Neji Hyūga.

Shikamaru looked up to the door as soon as it slammed. Part of him felt bad for pissing off the other man, but it was partially Neji's fault. He was just so easy.

Regardless, despite how attractive the man was, the younger genius was just happy that he wouldn't have to deal with the other man anytime soon. His eyes screwed together shut, awaiting a peaceful slumber.

So, if you don't mind, please review. I prefer constructive criticism, so please point out errors and whatnot that I'd need to address in later chapters (quotes help mucho!). If you'd like to just say you like the story, feel free!