A/N: Not much ShiShi on here, eh. :T Well, hope you guys like this fic. I own nothing, and would encourage you to leave feedback if you so choose. Thanks!
Shikamaru had reached 'don-one-of-Gai-sensei's-hideous-green-jump-suits-and-crawl-into-the-shallow-grave-you-dug-yourself-you-jackass' levels of irritation before, but he had never actually followed through before.
Here he sat on a lovely, lonesome Friday night in his own apartment, wearing the forest green monstrosity his questionable friend Lee had warned him would cure his melancholy so fast he'd be puking up more than two decades of indifference and mediocrity for days the second he put it on. To think the one time Shikamaru had finally given in to temptation and convinced himself life was too short to not wear ugly long-Johns alone in his room was over something as stupid as this. Well, it was probably better Lee went on thinking Shikamaru had seen the light of positivity and wandered into a better state of mind. It wasn't working, if clarification was needed. It did make a striking burial shroud, though.
Unfortunately, his reasons for moping around this past couple months when there wasn't work to be done were depressingly dull and uninspired. How many men had toiled over thoughts of a woman before, and how many of them had given the world a story worth telling? Too many for Shikamaru to think he was anything special. Nope, that feeling in his gut was definitely more of a 'we-haven't-eaten-all-day-and-your-virgin-ass-better-get-up-from-this-bed-before-someone-obnoxious-comes-around' feeling than a call to amorous arms. Thinking about girls could wait until he'd ingested something.
Easier said than done.
He willed himself to move from the sheets, but ended up rolling into a blanket burrito and staring blankly at the floor. Chip crumbs and the stale smell of the bachelor lifestyle clouded his eyes, wondering how long he'd have to stay in one spot before dust started collecting over this pathetic feather down grave.
His thoughts wandered to Kurenai. He hadn't gone to visit her in a few days anyway. Some fresh air and a strong lecture on being a responsible adult in the face of adversity were probably needed. He then tried to find a different word to use instead of adversity, since it sounded even sadder to describe a tiny, sort of, barely there crush that way.
Crush sounded stupid. And it was a lot less innocent than something like that. He hadn't sat here in deep, green jump-suited thought mulling over whether he wanted to hold hands with Shiho. No, accepting attraction was much more complicated as an adult, and must be handled delicately. Especially under the circumstances this "crush" had developed.
He freed himself from the blankets, blinking unamused at the lazy erection forming under the confines of his holy garments of youth and vitality. At least one part of him was feeling enthusiastic. Though thinking about how much effort it was going to take to get out of this outfit to jack off was physically painful. Of course, he'd have to take a shower sometime anyway. Might as well get it over with.
He frowned, realizing he didn't like thinking that way if he was going to think about making love to Shiho. She was a good girl. She'd helped him out multiple times and been a good sport despite the near death experiences they'd gone through together. And as little as he masturbated, he enjoyed giving into his more human tendencies and entertained the idea of her thinking about him the same way. She wasn't exactly good at hiding her feelings.
Which made it that much harder to admit he now saw some potential there. He felt like a jerk. But, every guy in the room had been thinking the same thing, right? He had always appreciated her intellect; was it so horrible to finally see her as a woman?
This was exhausting. Love was exhausting. How did anyone find the energy?
He reached back and undid the suits zipper, flushing in anticipation and hating himself.