It's not that he's sworn to celibacy or anything. He gets countless amounts of Konoha girls flinging themselves at him every day. Heck, he's been getting most of the good sex in the village, in the form of one night stands. He couldn't care less about ruining the reputation of his clan. After all, it's just sex. He doesn't necessarily date those girls – he knows they're no match for his prestige.
Still, there is this one thing that keeps antagonizing him. The fact that his cousin, Hyūga Hinata, is utterly oblivious of the sex appeal she has on him. Not that he's some sex freak, but he finds her innocent intentions every time she tends to him after his missions overly sensual for his liking. There's something about her gentle, yet firm touch that inexplicably arouses him. He's seen all sorts of masked innocence, donned coyly by most girls, but she's different. Simply too pure, to the point where he's scared of touching her, thinking that would violate some sort of sacred aura she radiates.
Damn it. Fuck her, too.
Oh you wish you could, his inner voice retorts.
He knows the effect his smug, domineering demeanor has on her. Every time they pass in the hallway, she'd bow her head so low, only to scurry away in haste. She's always so complaisant, so timidly agreeable and polite to him.
In his wildest fantasies, he thinks all he needs to do is ask, and she'd be happy to oblige. She must be inexperienced, but that would give him a sense of pride, being her first and all that.
He's been trying hard not to succumb to his kinks and admit that she's submissive. At this point, being turned on by her is the only thing he's bothered about. He hates feeling vulnerable. Dear God, if such a force even exists (he's stopped believing in destiny long ago, ever since he began donning his ANBU attire), who knew his sexual frustration would be his Achilles' heel.
Of everyone you can have, it just has to be her. Great.
His thoughts abhor him. Yet his actions repel him even more. No matter how many times he tried, no one could emulate her touch against his body. Most girls are too skilled, or too rough. Him trying to do it alone, serenading himself to the thought of her, makes him feel like a sick, disgusting bastard.
And yet there he lays in his bed, falling into his nightly routine, only to reach that point where all his erotic pleasures are cut short by the filthy reality of having to clean himself up.
The soap is scented with lavender. Her favorite smell. Fate must be mercilessly taunting at him.
Groaning, he shuffles through the hallway as quickly as he can. Cold water should ameliorate his stupid hell's fire. Then, he should finally be able to get some sleep.
Catching her silhouette in the kitchen is the last thing he ever wanted to happen. Yet this is Murphy's Law at its finest. Why tonight?!
"Neji-niisan, can I help you with anything?"
Ugh, begone with those honorifics of hers.