A/N:
Ech...more mindless dribble. Don't look at me that way, Reviewers...This time I mean it!! It's pointless!! Eh...enjoy it anyway...

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. There, are you happy now?!!

The sex is great.

What more can I say?

We came together after irate fights with the significant others in our lives and vented, letting out every emotion under the sun - every emotion our chaotic lives would allow us to feel, taking out our anger and frustration on each other, finding satisfaction in the bruises and gashes left behind…and then, once we'd exhausted our voices, the words falling silent around us…we'd come together in a different way.

Lips met, clashing together furiously; kisses full of hate and sorrow and lust and need…Such need that it was almost overwhelming…

Why?

Because we found something in each other that was absent in the rest of our lives. That something - a burning, magnetic something that we needed - we'd sneak out of our houses for…slink past ever-watchful eyes and right under the noses of our families and friends. It was a something that we couldn't live without.

His hands would always wander higher while mine lower, his fingers tracing the marks on my cheeks and mine wandering over the long, dark swirls that trailed further and further down his torso. They intrigue me and my hands trace the outline of each marking in slight awe. He has no idea what they do to me.

I never once thought about what it meant, beyond the longing touches and bruises, but I wasn't sure he never did. However, I know for a fact that he did worry about his sister…and how it would affect her - about what would happen if she ever found out and what it would do to the two of them. After all, they only had each other.

Touching, isn't it? My sister and I aren't nearly that close…she bandages me up when I come home from training or a mission a little banged up and scolds me when I've done something wrong, but…that's as far as our relationship goes. He's pretty lucky, now that I think about it.

The thing I would always remember - even days later, long after we had said our sordid and quick goodbyes - was the taste of his skin; steely, like sweat and skin and salt and blood - an always shocking reminder that he was just as human as me.

The feel of him in my hands - the rough texture of his flesh against mine and the heated way our bodies moved against each other as we ground out our frustrations and needs still sends shivers down my spine.

He was more like and animal that I was, always taking control, holding my arms above my head and pinning me down to leave sharp bites on my shoulders and up my neck. They were always sore and riddled with bruises the next day, but I never seemed to mind - the marks were simple reminders of what transpired between us in the dead of night, and they always made me smile.

Why?

Eh, I still don't get it. I didn't love him. I don't love him. There's no questioning it, right? And from the steely gaze in his eyes - directed at me - when we finish and lay side by side, our breathing labored and sharp and faces tilted towards the other's, I can tell he doesn't love me either.

My name falls breathlessly from his lips.

It's evident, when that cold gaze follows me - I can feel it on my back - as I get up and dress quickly, always turned away from him, that this doesn't mean anything to him. He watches me, and I'm sure that in his mind, every time, he's asking himself why the hell he's here.

I can't let myself get comfortable with him - near him…

That would lead to things that neither of us want to caught up in, and so I keep my distance when our encounters are over - dressing turned around, never letting a single word pass between us before we both leave.

I meet his gaze only once each time before we head for the door, and every time, he leans toward me and his lips touch mine in a swift kiss. I can feel his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, taking control again. I feel my feet move under me, pulling me away again. He gazes at me for a moment, confusion flitting through his eyes, then he walks swiftly out of the room and we have nothing to do with each other until the next time around.

In that small kiss - that small, seemingly meaningless gesture, he says more than a million things to me.

Thank you.

-XXX-

One time, later, we run into each other in the village, only passing down the street. His hand brushes against mine, even though he is talking to his sister and it seems he hasn't seen me at all.

I'm sorry.

My fingers wrap around his for a moment, and it send another spark down my spine. His voice continues spilling from his lips, the words directed toward the blonde next to him, and yet I can hear him saying something different inside my head, only to me.

I hate you.

I cringe slightly and our touch falls apart. We continue walking in separate directions, Shino at my side, Temari at his, and one of the rare moments that our lives clash together becomes a fresh memory in the back of my mind.

I need you.

We each take a few more steps, ignoring the presence of the other as the people at our sides attempt to draw our attention back to them. All such attempts fail. A couple of seconds pass, then - as one - we turn to glance at each other, his dark gaze meets mine for a moment, and my heart leaps into my throat for a instant before being jerked back down past where it should be by the look in his eyes. It's that same look - the cold expression from before - and I can take it. I look away.

I'll miss you.

No you don't! My mind screams. You don't care about anything but the sex. That's it.

I glance over at Shino, and I can tell that he knows. I can see his golden eyes from behind the sunglasses he always wears, and the slightly sympathetic look in them tells me all I need to know.

"You love him." His gaze is saying. "You know this. Don't fight it. Don't argue with it."

I nod slowly, sadly. We've always been able to understand each other's small gestures and glances…but…the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach makes me wonder if this time it's really a good thing…

He's right…

…and it hurts.

-XXX-

His skin is on mine again; surrounding me, covering me, filling me. My skin burns everywhere it touches his, and it takes all of my self control not to scream out.

He bites my collarbone, and I groan in spite of myself. Why did I let myself do this again? Why am I even here?

I…I was screaming at him, I think…and then……He was bleeding……and I…I……

I can't remember much right now…

With his hands wrapped around me and my own bound above my head, I'm in no position to run away, and…no matter how much this hurts my heart, my body seems to like it a little too much and I wouldn't run if I could.

His name falls breathlessly from my lips.

Later, those same lips are pressed against his in a familiar, depressing kiss…and this time they have something else to say.

A/N: Ok, part two is up next !!! Have fun - and REVIEW!!!