My Best Friend's Girl
Author's Note: This is an extended version of a story I submitted to the Naruto Contest community for this week's theme: CREEP! Enjoy, but if you don't, don't flame me because I'll just tell you to go get a life, or something equally or more scathing.
What kind of person has these kinds of thoughts?
I sit here listening to her pour her heart out to me about her recent fight with her Shikamaru, my best friend, and all I can think about is how much I want her!
Her words don't register in my mind as I slowly lick the ice-cream off our shared spoon, the only thought running through my head is how this is like an indirect kiss between the two of us. As soon as that thought enters my head I stare at her lips, red and swollen from her worrying them between her teeth, and I think how much sweeter it'd taste to kiss her right now, to taste her lips and tongue instead of having to settle on silly prepubescent thoughts of indirect kisses.
Ino continues to rant about how he doesn't spend anytime with her, about how he's too lazy to do anything around the house, and here her cheeks are tainted red with embarrassment, about how he never touches or pleases her.
I think about how many ways, positions, and times I could please her if he'd only give me half the chance.
As her rant comes to an end, her shoulders sag in exhaustion, and my eyes follow her breasts as they rise and fall spasmodically as she inhales deeply, trying to regain her composure. My fingers twitch and for a second an image of her writhing in passion beneath me, my hands cupping her breasts, flashes before me. I shake my head to dispel those thoughts, allowing myself the small pleasure of brushing s stray lock of hair away from her face. I smile a hallow, unconvincing smile and assure her that everything between her and Shikamaru are going to get better. She seems to buy my false assurance and sincerity because she smiles back at me, and for a second I wonder why she didn't choose me. I was the same as him wasn't I? She'd known me for just as long as she'd known him; what did he have that I didn't?
And I thought not for the first time, what kind of person has these thoughts about their best friend's girlfriend? Guilt swept over me and I found a name that fit me and my disloyal thoughts. I was a creep; there was no other word to describe a person like me.