Summary: Neji knows having an affair is wrong. But what if it's with the right person?
Inspired by Hinder's 'Thing For You'.
WARNING: PG- 13, some suggestive scenes and strong language.
AN: Hello! Thank you for stumbling upon my story and reading it! This one-shot is my attempt at a valentine-themed story (which I've never done before), so I hope you bear with me. Also, I'm writing this on a whim with no formal planning whatsoever. I just had this story in my head that I feel like I have to write it out or else it will be gone forever.
I hope you enjoy, and Happy valentine's day! (depends on where you are in the globe)
~Akira
PS: This story is also my way of transitioning back to fiction writing, especially working back on Welcome Home (which I put on temporary hiatus), and I know that some parts may be a little awkward. It's been a while since I read and wrote something fictional, because all I ever did these past few days was write academic essays and read academic journals. Sh*t.
PPS: This story was inspired by the song 'Thing For You' by Hinder. I highly suggest that you listen to the song as you read.
He picked up his phone, and ignoring the multiple notifications, dialed that unnamed number-the only one that he knows by heart and could probably recite even in his deathbed.
Smirking at the silly thought, he pressed the phone to his ear, waiting for her to pick up.
Three rings later, she did.
"Hello?"
"It's me."
"Yeah." He could hear the smile in her voice. "What's up?"
He fidgeted with the random stick of cigarette in between his fingers before asking, "Are you free later? Tonight?"
There was a brief pause - and he knew she looked over her shoulder - damn. you have all her quirks memorized' - and then he heard her sigh, her voice dropping down a notch. "Why?"
"Nothing. I just, uh..."
Geez. It's not like him to be at a loss for what to say. If anybody heard him now, they'll be sure to laugh and won't let up with the teasing. Because Hyuuga Neji never stutters. He's always composed, calculating, always sure of himself. He's always on the top of his game and nothing, no one, can shake his cool resolve.
Except for one person.
Neji sat up, unconsciously gripping the phone on one hand. "Nothing," he finally says.
A light chuckle. "Well, don't you have plans for tonight? I mean, it's valentine's day. Girls set so much store on such things."
Her tone was lightly mocking, like she isn't part of the female population herself and does not care about hearts and roses. Neji knew, however, that this is far from the truth. Because the reality is that she gushes at small, romantic gestures, like when he'd kiss her softly on her forehead while she sleeps, or when he'd just hold her close, sit her on his lap and just wrap his arms around her slender waist. He knew she liked those. And in their passionate nights, he knew she loves it when he kisses her on the mouth when they both reach climax, their bodies pressed close-
'Stop.'
He tried to shake off the mental image of her beneath him, skin flushed, green eyes - 'damn it, stop!' - and focused instead on the fact that he's not supposed to call her or have anything to do with her. At that thought, Neji found his voice again.
"I might do something," he murmured. He stood up and walked towards the kitchen to get a drink. As he opened the fridge, his eyes caught the small polaroid photo taped on the refrigerator door. His pale lavender eyes met with the brown ones on the picture.
"Yeah? Chocolates and flowers always do the trick."
His lips curved in a small smile. "You forgot the bear."
He heard her chuckle, and in the background, he heard the rustle of sheets. "Oh yeah. Teddy bears are a staple, they give off the 'cute, warm' vibe."
"Yeah."
There was a pregnant pause and Neji took this chance to gaze at the small photograph, while his mind wandered somewhere else. In the photo, he was with another girl and they were smiling, her arm around his neck, their faces close together. Her hair was down in brown ringlets.
But the woman in his mind had red hair, emerald eyes. He closed his eyes, and a wave of unfathomable emotions washed over him.
'This is wrong.'
But he didn't stop. She was like a drug, the more he avoids, the more he's draw in. Suffice it to say, he's addicted to her. Shit, that sounded like a cheesy line from a crappy movie.
His lips pecked feverish kisses on her neck. Her breathing had become labored when he kissed a sensitive spot. In return, he moaned as their hands explored each other's bodies.
They found themselves on her bed, and he took a second to smirk at the pink and flowery covers, before he resumed his assault on her mouth, her neck, her breasts. Meanwhile, her hands caressed his back, his chest, and soon enough, she started pulling at his belt.
All rational sense - the fact that he should've stopped this at the beginning, the fact that they both have someone waiting for them at home - flew out the window when their bodies finally became one. She gazed back at him with glazed eyes, deep green like stones with moss, her skin flushed and glistening with the sheen of sweat, breath heavy as they moved in unison.
He had left even before the night was done, making sure not to leave anything that indicated his presence. He checked that the pillows on her couch were propped as they were when they first came in, made sure he did not leave his toothbrush in her bathroom, and that he had replaced the bottles of beer they took from the fridge.
And before he left, he covered her still nude form and whispered a soft goodbye.
That was not the first, nor the last.
"Hey..."
He woke up from the reverie. "Yeah."
"What are you thinking?"
'You.' "Nothing." 'Always you.'
The next time it happened, they were in his apartment, and it was her who had to leave.
He had watched her put on the discarded pieces of clothing that were strewn on the floor. Afterwards, she collected her other items - her hair brush, her hair tie, even the small bottle of mouthwash in the bathroom. Like him, she was thorough, making sure not to leave any mark of her presence.
He followed her to the kitchen, where he saw her take the empty wine glasses and put them in the dishwasher. He placed the bottle of wine back to the fridge and as he did, a photo of him and his girlfriend fell. She picked it up, and although she tried her best, Neji saw sadness flash in her eyes before being swiftly replaced with cool indifference. She gave the picture back to him.
She had not said anything. She turned her back, and promptly left his apartment.
"Wait."
She turned around. There was a heartbeat before he strode towards her and claimed her mouth once more in a searing kiss.
She returned his fervor, but soon pulled away.
"Stay," he whispered.
She bit her lip before gently shaking her head. "I have to go. He's probably already waiting for me."
From the other line, Neji heard her movements, and he knew she was also thinking of those nights, and he wonders if she's affected by this thing between them as much as it affected him. Because since that day, he had not been able to stop himself from thinking of her. And it was so unlike him to be this...involved...much more harbor intense emotions for just one girl.
And by the sudden hitch in her breathing, he knew she felt the same.
"Neji..." Another sigh and he could just imagine her walking around in her room, where that stupid, overlarge stuffed bear given to her by her significant other sat on top of her closet, her pink and flowery bed sheets rumpled, her crimson hair up in a messy ponytail, long legs walking barefoot on the carpeted floor.
"...I don't think we should..."
They both knew from the start that they shouldn't. Both of them are committed to someone else, both hearts already taken by someone else.
But still, no matter how many times they tried to forget, they simply couldn't. Neji knew it was wrong, but he could't stay away from her for too long. He simply couldn't walk away. He had tried so hard, so many times, but he always failed.
After the first night, they had promised not to see each other again, to forget that anything ever happened. But fate seemed to love messing up with him.
He wrapped the blanket tighter around them while his one hand traced mindless patterns on her bare shoulder. She snuggled closer against him, her crimson locks fanned across his chest. He took a deep breath, filling his head with her scent, and he reveled at the warmth of her body against his. He felt her stir.
"I... I know this is fucked up, but... I find myself comparing him with you," she whispered.
In spite of the sting it brought to his ego - and the guilt that made his heart clench - Neji smirked. "And? How does he match up next to me?"
She responded by kissing him. "I always come back to you, don't I?"
"Ever wondered why?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why this- us- happened."
"I don't know..."
"Come with me."
He heard her gasp. "...what?" came her ragged whisper.
He closed his eyes briefly. 'What the fuck. What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck are you thinking?'
"I-I..."- 'Say yes. Please.'- "Neji, I can't."
Neji opened his eyes, and once more, Tenten's cheerful eyes from the photograph looked back at him. He tried to remember the happy times, tried to remember the days when there was only him and her, and Akira wasn't in the picture. He tried to capture what he used to feel for the brunette, but his heart came out blank. It was as if he was trying to remember a different lifetime, something that wasn't really there before.
He gripped the phone harder, like it was a line that anchored him to this enigma, this woman that had captured his soul.
"Akira, listen to me. We know this can't go on-"
"I know. But I can't just leave him. Kiba is...he's..." He could hear her anguished sigh. "He's important to me."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Am I not important to you too?" 'Shit. Shit! What are you doing Hyuuga?'
"Neji...you know I - look, this is not..." Sniff. "You just can't leave her for me. She's good for you, and I'm...I'll never be who she is."
It stung. The truth stung like a thousand needles, and Neji leaned against the kitchen counter, heaved a deep breath in an attempt to regain any rational thoughts that did not include memories of ravaging a certain redhead in this same kitchen counter, feeling her legs wrap around his waist-
"She loves you, Neji. You can't leave her for me. Don't leave her for me."
Against the early morning sunlight, her red hair was like a halo, and there was a sad smile on her lips. She twirled a single red rose in between her fingers.
He met her eyes, and he saw that it had tears in them. His eyes then trailed to the dainty diamond ring on her left hand.
A reminder that she will never be his, that some other man had claimed her first.
He buried the pain by taking her in his arms, and like molten gold she melded against his lean form, as if they were two parts of a whole. Their lips met-slow, gentle-and when their exchange turned passionate, he led them to the bedroom.
He tried to kiss her tears away, and she tried to mask his despair with hushed whispers of affection.
As their eyes met, he knew that in another lifetime, in a different universe, maybe - and just maybe - they'd finally be right for each other.
Cause girl I got a thing for you
And I know it's kinda hazy
But I still remember waking up
And kissing your head one more time
For now I'll say goodbye
Don't think we're through
I got a thing for you