Disclaimer: I don't own the show, characters, or anything affiliated with them. I own my imagination, and that's what this story's plot is a product of.
Author's Note: If you ever frequent the shikanejishika Genius Love LiveJournal community, you may have seen this fic. If you haven't visited Genius Love, then you should really get there and check it out! It's an awesome source for shika/neji fan love. At any rate, here is this fic, which is short and sweet and very image driven. Please enjoy!
Gray Like Your Eyes
The rain hisses outside and everything is soft and gray like your eyes. Lying naked with the covers resting precariously over our waists I wonder if we are thinking the same thing. I light a cigarette and am mesmerized by the incandescent orange embers glowing at its tip. It seems like it is the only color in the world today.
The rice paper doors are halfway open because you like to watch the fog swirl. You say it reminds you of fish swimming in shallow water, their fins flitting back and forth to propel their sleek, shimmering bodies forward, always forward, and as I sit observing the mist I can see the fish, too, thin figures rounding imaginary bends.
I wonder sometimes if you like the fog because it reminds you of us. I wonder if you see us as a pair of silver-scaled fish surging upstream, fighting the current and one another for a spot in steady water, but we keep circling one another. We can't go forward without each other.
You hate me sometimes. I can tell when you knock our teeth together in an artless kiss and your fingers leave bruises on my hips or scratches on my back during sex. Most of the time you're almost too gentle, like you're afraid of making a wrong move. I've always thought it was ironic that you could be so hesitant and still be such a bold shougi player.
Today you were amazing; we were amazing. I think it has to do with the rain. It does something to you, makes your tightly corded muscles relax and your stern expression soften. No one gets to see you this way except me, and I find it endearing. You trust me even though you can't help but hate me sometimes when you are afraid. You are afraid a lot, though you'd burn before you ever admitted it. I know because I know you, and that's scary for you, too.
You surprise me by running your pale fingers over my arm, slowly sliding them down to rest over my hand. I look side-long at you, and you are magnificent with your dark hair loose and tumbling down your back and over your pillow, a few stray strands falling in your clear eyes which are concentrating on my hand.
"Shikamaru," you say, and your voice is liquid.
I inhale the smoke you find disgusting and scrounge up a "Hm?" from somewhere deep in my throat.
You sigh.
"What is this?" You ask.
I know what you mean. I wonder too.
"I see you right before I fall asleep at night, Neji," I reply. "And in the clouds."
I'm not looking at you anymore, but I can tell that you are studying my face. You lift yourself up to a sitting position and look down at me, your hair surrounding your face, casting a dusky shadow over your pale skin, and I watch, entranced, as your eyes glint. You search my face and then lean down to press your lips against mine, but that's all. For just a moment we are breathing against one another, and as you gently pull away you let yourself smile ever so slightly. You know I love it when you do that.
You say, "I see you, too, Shikamaru."
Outside the rain hisses, and misty fish swim in shallow fog. Inside you let me hold you, and we are immersed in a new kind of understanding.