Author's Notes:

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto.

Hello everyone! This is a re-write because I noticed some errors in the previous version that I posted. Once again, this is my attempt to get out of a terrible writer's block that have plagued me for the past month. For all of you reading my fic, Welcome Home, thank you for your patience. I am doing my best to update as soon as I can. For now, enjoy this one-shot and please leave a review. It's my first time to post a sexually-themed piece and I want to know what you think.

Cheers!

~Akira

PS: 'Enji' means dark red. It's Kiba's nickname for Akira. Akira is my OC from Welcome Home.

"We're filming in 3, 2, 1… action!"

Harsh lights hit her full on the face. The studio was suddenly silent. And then…

"Good evening everyone and welcome to the Late Night Show!"

At that sweet, slightly high-pitched voice, she turned her head and then, everything came into focus. The cameras that loomed at her. The harsh lights. The catchy opening sequence. The pinkette that sat across her. Lastly, the man beside her that sat confident and at ease.

She caught their images in the small screen somewhere beside the cameras. Sakura and the man beside her looked sure of themselves, as if they knew all along what they were getting into. The only person in the room that was uncertain, was her.

'Come on, Akira you've done this a million times before!'

But that did not calm the butterflies in her chest.

She was in a talk show where everyone is watching her. Him. Them.

Sakura, the host, was already saying something about a movie—their movie —and thanking them for attending some event. But Akira was not listening until a question was thrown at her.

She looked blankly at Sakura. What did she say?

"Psst!"

Akira glanced at Ino who was hiding behind the cameras and was glaring at her. "Focus!" she hissed. Akira looked back at Sakura and cleared her throat.

"Oh, sorry, I was—"

"Well if I were in your place I'd certainly be tongue-tied too," Sakura said, giggling. "Especially when someone as fine as Hyuuga Neji sits beside you."

A deep chuckle. "I'll take that as a compliment, Sakura. Thank you." And then lavender eyes were upon her, fine brows crossed with worry. "Are you alright?" he asked in a low voice.

Sakura blushed. "That's just so adorable!" And the rest of the female audience erupted in squeals. As if taking this as cue, Neji took her hand in his, entwining their fingers together and placing it on his lap.

"Pardon Akira-chan, she's probably just tired from the long flight," Neji said with that signature smirk of his that made the ladies swoon.

Akira took his unspoken cue. "Yes, I'm sorry." She feigned an embarrassed smile. "I just hopped off the plane an hour ago so… jetlag…" she shrugged and leaned her head slightly on the Hyuuga's shoulder before mouthing a 'thanks'. She made sure the camera captured that.

Sakura waited for the squeals to die down before she once again faced the pair in front of her. "So as I was saying earlier, Satsuna-san, this is your second time portraying a female warrior in a movie. How was the experience?"

"Still a little unnerving, to be honest," Akira replied. She glanced at Neji. "But Hyu—Neji-kun is totally supportive so it made the action scenes easier." She left out the fact that prior to being an actress, she was an avid practitioner of kendo.

"You wouldn't think she's a newbie," Neji said. "The way she swings that katana…"

"Oh but we both know you helped me with that."

Together they shared a knowing smile. Once again the audience erupted in squeals. Even Sakura was gushing.

What made them so believable? Even Akira have to ask that. She did not believe Ino when she said that 'because you're both fabulous'. Because, really, what's so fabulous about faking everything?

Fake smiles. Fake tears. Fake emotions. Fake laughter. Fake dreams. Sometimes Akira even fears that her whole existence was fake. But she knew this the moment she entered the industry. She knew this when she signed that contract and agreed to be a public property. All she wanted was to act—theater gave her this but sadly, there are bills to pay and loans to settle, and her meager "talent fee" from the musicals she does barely cover those expenses. So when the opportunity to star in an independent film was presented to her, she agreed. Little did she know that it was the film to represent the country in the prestigious international film festival. And she would bag the Best Actress Award.

'That bastard, Shikamaru,' she often thought. 'I should've known it when he told me he'll make me big.' She thought it was just a drunken slur from the underrated genius-of-a-director. Apparently, he meant it.

Her independent success lead to more media exposure. Then product deals and endorsements. Then movies. And before she knew it, she was being paired together with the most sought-after actor: Hyuuga Neji.

The people behind this are surely patting their own backs now because the public immediately swallowed the whole thing. Handsome bachelor plus the widely-acclaimed actress equals…

Her mixed parentage is partly to blame. Akira was sure her acting skills are truly worthy of praise, but that alone will not propel her to success in the show business if her looks did not help her. The red hair and green eyes she got from her mother, while the lean frame and pale complexion she got from her Japanese father. When all other actresses in the field boasts of implants and surgical reconstruction, Akira only had her bare face. But that made her all the more appealing.

She and Neji are promoting their newest movie, a sequel from the jidaigeki they made 2 years ago. As their usual movies go, they are lovers destined to be together. In spite of the redundant storyline, people still watch it.

Which brings them to this show where they are being interviewed by Sakura.

"How is this movie different from your other movies?" Sakura was asking.

She and Neji shared a glance before Neji spoke, "Well there will be more… surprises."

"Oh! What surprises?! Come on, tell us!"

Akira and Neji chuckled (as they have done in other numerous shows, they are already adept at synchronizing their movements) before Akira answered, "This time we are more mature."

"Does that mean we get to see Neji nude?" one of the members of the audience asked. Neji only laughed in reply. Cameras flashed, hoping to catch that picture-perfect laugh that only Hyuuga Neji can pull off. Akira wanted to roll her eyes. If there ever was an overrated actor, it would be him.

But really, even you fell prey for that smile.

'But not that kind of smile,' she answered the small voice inside her head. 'The one that the cameras don't see. The kind that—'

Her thoughts were disturbed by another question from Sakura. Once again, it was about their 'relationship.'

Akira answered the 'trivial' question about her and Neji's real relationship—whether their onscreen romance has blossomed off screen. "Well… Neji-kun and I enjoy each other's company…"

And as they have done in numerous interviews before, Akira and Neji would feign blushing grins. Then Neji would take her hand, make sure it's in an angle visible to the cameras, gently squeeze and then together they would look at each other before answering vaguely. Akira rotates her responses to "we're taking our time" and "we'll see in the future" and Neji would answer the cryptic "we'll see" or "why not".

When asked if they have feelings for each other, Neji would answer "yes" and then she would fake a blush and pretend to be flattered. Then Neji will say "but we'd like to get to know each other better and I don't want to rush Akira-chan." Sometimes he'll complement the words with a chaste kiss on her forehead. Sometimes it will be her to show emotion; either she leans against him or cling to his arm, just like what a true lover would do.

That was their image: Neji would be in love with her and Akira will love him too, but still reluctant for some unknown reason. Neji would be willing to wait and Akira will encourage him and drop hints that she does love him back.

And boom. Instant hit!

Their mock romance had managed to sweep the entire nation if the ratings of their movies are to be believed. And how many years have they been doing it? Roughly three.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Akira pretended to be embarrassed. "Oh but—"

"Come on, just one!" Sakura goaded.

How many kisses have they shared? More than Akira can count. And they were varied. Some innocent, some enough for a PG-13 rating, and some could already be considered foreplay. She had been kissed before when she was still acting for theatre, kissing Neji was no big deal. But…

She was drunk from the after-party sponsored by a well-known liquor company that chose her to be its ambassadress. The party was in full swing. The pulse of the loud music was making her head ache, but she ignored the pain. She wanted to forget. She wanted to be real.

A random man came up to her and she took his invitation. Together they danced, bodies close together, her hips gyrating against him. He was some model she couldn't remember and she felt his warm hands travel from her shoulders, to her waist, to her hips. And then he was pressing her close, his lips warm against the sensitive spot on her neck. It felt good. She wanted more.

She was about to wrap her arms around the man but was roughly pulled away by some stranger. She looked at the strong hand that grabbed her arm and was met by a pair of steely, lavender eyes.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"You're drunk. You're coming with me," was the terse reply.

Before she could further protest, she was being dragged away from the dancefloor, to the dark and empty courtyard away from the crowd and away from the cameras.

"Let me go!" she demanded as she tried to pull away. He refused and instead forced her to face him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, his voice low. "I allowed you to go to this party but not to get drunk."

"I can get drunk all I want!" she slurred defiantly. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

Even in the dark, Neji's features were still regal. "Don't ruin this. Don't ruin us!"

Akira seemed to sober a bit. "Us? What do you mean?" she said dully. Then she laughed bitterly. "There is no us. Is this thing still not clear to you?" She met his eyes. "This whole thing between us is fake!"

Neji did not answer and only loosened his grip on her. Akira heaved a deep breath. Her head continued to pound and she was already feeling the effects of alcohol. They were silent for a few minutes.

"I'll take you home," he said. He was about to touch her but Akira pushed him away, albeit a little weakly due to her state.

"Don't bother."

Neji let out a small frustrated groan. "Come on Akira, don't be stubborn."

She lost it. She turned to him. "Look around Hyuuga! There are no cameras so you can stop pretending to care already!" She was ready to burst into tears. Because the truth is, it was not really Neji she wanted to remind, but herself. Because she was starting to believe that it was real. That he actually cared.

And before her mind could register what was happening, he was kissing her. Hard. Deep. So unlike the kisses they shared on the screen. Not like the chaste ones for TV or the tender ones for movies. He was kissing her savagely. He was brutal.

Akira did not know how long he kissed her but when he finally pulled back for air, she was breathless. Their eyes met and there was fire in his eyes before the usual pale indifference came back to his lavender orbs. Her lips tingled for his mouth. Her body ached from the pressure he used to pin her against him.

It was then she realized that she had fallen deep.

Akira sighed inaudibly and faced Neji. He had been watching her. Was he also remembering that time? 'Impossible.' She told herself. He treated that night as if it never happened.

They often oblige when people ask them to kiss. Somehow it had become a routine already and their paychecks always seem to increase whenever they do.

With practiced grace Neji gazed into her and tilted her chin up. In spite of the façade, it always made the butterflies in Akira's chest multiply especially when Neji finally pressed his lips against hers. They both closed their eyes and held each other's hand. It was an innocent kiss. Neji held it a bit longer before they pulled away. Akira flashed the camera a bashful smile which thrilled the audience.

Sakura was almost beside herself as she teased the pair. The audience were cheering, asking for more. For sure, the ratings of the show would skyrocket. Any show always does whenever Akira and Neji are around.

"More! More! More!" their die-hard fans are yelling. Akira and Neji only grinned and waved to the adoring crowd. They really have chemistry.

The interview came to a close after Neji and Akira invited everyone to watch their movie. The two stayed for a while to have their pictures taken with the fans. After a while, their respective assistants approached them.

"Come on you two, time to go," Ino said.

Akira need not be told twice. She waved goodbye to her fans and proceeded to the backstage. Once at there, she let out a deep breath she didn't know she was holding. Akira continued to walk until she was outside the studio. Once alone, she hugged herself and shivered. She suddenly felt tired. Her heavy make-up started to make her face itch, and the fake eyelashes are causing her eyes to droop. She turned around to look for Ino. Instead, she saw Neji.

She bit her lower lip. No matter how many times Neji kisses her in front of national television, her lips would always tingle, as if missing that savage kiss he gave her in the courtyard. No matter how many times she would remind herself of the truth, deep down she wishes that things were different.

Unfortunately, it isn't. And the reason is…

"Neji, Tenten is on the phone."

Akira and Neji stared for a few more before the redhead averted her stare. She clenched her fists as his words reached her ears.

"Hey Ten… yeah… the interview just finished. No, they'll be airing it next week… sure…bye, I love you."

Akira heaved a deep breath once more. She heard Neji approaching her.

"You have plans?" he asked. For some reason, both of them refused to look at each other. Suddenly, the intimacy they shared earlier evaporated. Like it was never there.

Akira shook her head. "Not tonight. You?"

Neji shrugged as a reply. He dug his hand in his pocket. Three years of working with him already taught Akira how to read him. He was a different person off–screen. He was stoic, quiet and distances himself from people. Akira could tell that he was tense.

However she knew it was not her place to probe or even be concerned. That was the role of his lover. She may be his girlfriend in the movies, but Akira knew she would never own Hyuuga Neji's heart. Someone else had beat her to that.

A sleek black sedan blew its horn not far from them and Neji turned to Akira briefly. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said. Akira only nodded and watched as he walked away. She knew that somewhere, another woman was waiting for him.

She followed the car speed away until it was only a dark spot in the distance.

"I told you to get used to it."

Akira turned to the voice. It was Ino. The tall blonde woman was shaking her head as she approached Akira.

"You're not supposed to fall in love with him, Satsuna," she said as she handed a coat and purse to the redhead.

"I know," Akira muttered. She sighed as she wore the coat over her shoulders. "I fucked up Ino, I know."

Ino looked at her dejected friend. She slung an arm around her. "We tend to fall for the wrong men, don't we?"

Akira smirked at this. Ino had been in a secret on and off relationship with Shikamaru, movie director and boyfriend to actress, Temari. In between, she dates the prolific artist Sai. Akira never understood Ino's tastes in men but she had long stopped trying to understand her friend.

Ino's phone started ringing and she hurriedly took the call. Apparently, it was Sai.

"Sai's in town and he's taking me to a late dinner," Ino said after hanging up. She looked at Akira for a long time. Ino could tell the redhead was still in poor spirit and she wished she could do more to cheer her up. Many times, Ino had tried to veer away Akira's misplaced affections to other men, but her friend was stubborn. Ino sighed and hugged the redhead.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she whispered to Akira's ear. Akira nodded. "Good bye."

Ino waved goodbye and set off into the night. Akira remained looking out the street until she realized that she was the only one left outside the studio. She took out her phone, ready to call her driver to pick her up when the smooth rumble of an engine sounded nearby. She looked up and saw a sleek Ducati stop in front of her.

"Need a lift, Enji?"

Upon hearing the old nickname, Akira smiled. The rider removed his helmet to reveal wild, black hair and wolfish grin.

"You're always spot-on, Kiba-kun."

Kiba shifted on his motorbike. "I'll take you to your unit, Akira. Come on."

Akira nodded and rode behind Kiba. He handed her a spare helmet. "Are you okay, Enji?"

She met his concerned eyes and shook her head. "I'm fine."

Kiba sighed. He turned off the engine of his bike and turned to look at Akira. "No you're not." He brushed a stray strand of hair from Akira's face. "Is this about him again?" he asked softly.

Akira heard the tenderness from his voice, the concern behind the sharp eyes. Kiba had been a long-time friend… at least when they are sober. The story changes once they are drunk—either with alcohol or something deeper—and they lie naked on his bed, entwined, and joined together by misery.

He was warm too. His arms always willing to embrace her without judgment. He had kissed her a lot too, in fact, she had already lost cound. But not like him. Never like Neji.

Akira looked away and leaned against his muscular back. "Just take me home, Kiba," she whispered. "Please."

Kiba stilled for a moment. He felt her wrap her arms tightly around his torso. Kicking the engine back to life, they set off into the night.

He didn't bring her home. Instead he brought her to his apartment. It was not as lavishly styled as hers—his career as a graphic artist was not enough to provide him with extravagant furniture—but it was spacious, clean and was just right for him.

She did not protest when they entered the dimly lit room. He took of his shoes and helmet, threw his keys to the small table and took her hand.

She did not protest when he abruptly pressed her against the wall, trapping her between the cold concrete and his body. She did not protest when he tilted her chin to force her to look at him.

She did not protest when he kissed her.

Unlike the kisses they shared in the past, this was slow, gentle and uncertain. Kiba held her wrists above her head and pressed closer, his one hand angling her head to deepen the kiss.

Her lips was soft and moist, and she did not protest when he pushed further, exploring her mouth with his tongue, daring her to return his passion. Daring her to return his unspoken emotions.

His hand wandered over her lithe form. He ran rough, calloused hands over smooth, supple flesh. Kiba trailed kisses to her ear, to the crook of her neck, back to her mouth. She did not protest when he released her wrists, grabbed her roughly by the waist and started to move them towards the bedroom.

She did not protest when he began to kiss her harder. Deeper.

She did not protest when he began to undress her.

His hands unbuttoned her blouse while she deftly unbuckled his belt. His hands roamed freely against her flushed skin, nipping gently at the top of her breasts.

She did not protest when he ravaged her mouth with such intensity, as if pleading her to say those three words he had told her time and again.

Kiba pulled away, panting. His mouth hovered over hers as he stared deeply into those emerald orbs. How many times have they done this? How many times had he kissed every inch of her? And yet she was always far, unreachable. She would respond to his kisses, would moan against his thrusts, would cling to him as they reached ecstasy.

But the fact always remained that no matter how many times she'd let him in, none of his kisses would equal his.

"Why did you stop, Kiba?" she asked. She looped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her once more.

As he drew closer, he whispered. "Just this once Akira, be mine."

Akira paused. She looked back at him, his breath fanning her face, their noses touching, their naked bodies pressed against each other, his warmth enveloping her.

She leaned and kissed him. The only way she knew how. Forcefully.

Neji pulled away, breathless. He leaned his forehead against hers, their noses touching. His other hand slipped behind her head, burying itself in her thick brown locks.

"I love you."

He answered her with another searing kiss, deeper, harder than the first. Her arms looped tighter around his neck and he pressed her closer against him, his hands wandering over her back, her hips.

His tongue probed deeper, seeking that familiar taste he had been accustomed to. Unsatisfied, he angled her head, ravaging her mouth over and over until he could find what he was searching for.

"…Neji…"

He continued to trail kisses to her cheek, her neck, her breasts then back to her mouth again. His tongue tasted the salt in her skin, the desire in her curves. She was moaning against his ministrations and he wanted her, right there and then. But…

"…stop… Neji, please stop…"

It took all his willpower to cease his assault on her body and he looked into her brown orbs, the lips plumped by his kisses. She was straddling him, her naked body for him to see. His eyes trailed over the familiar body, the slightly-tanned skin, the bite-mark on her shoulder, the gentle slope of her breasts. It was all so familiar yet… different.

"Where are you?" Tenten asked breathlessly, breasts heaving, bare against his muscled chest. Her eyes probed into his.

"Here, right here," he answered slightly panting.

Tenten lowered herself once more against him and kissed him. "Who are you?" she said softly. When he didn't answer immediately, she trailed kisses along his jaw and whispered to his ear, "Are you my Neji? Or hers?"

He looked into her eyes, as if looking for the answers there. Then he kissed her, gently.

Still, he could not find what he was searching for.

Author's Notes:

Umm...okay, how do I start? Hmmm...This fanfic was inspired by the many loveteams (aka OTPs) my country's show business have. Like, they're everywhere. Majority of the movies and TV shows have them. Top-grossing movies here are not really about good plots, but rather on how these loveteams express sappy words towards one another. Recently, a loveteam was seen giving each other the cold shoulder off screen and this got me thinking, "How are these actors and actresses in real life?" I mean, are they really lovey-dovey as they appear onscreen or is it just rumors to boost their popularity?

This, plus a couple of songs inspired me to write this fic. The couple of last scenes (the one where Akira is fetched by Kiba and the where they have sex) is already a back story going on in my mind for weeks now. I was setting it aside for when i can finally use it. Personally, I find Kiba appealing. I mean, I've read fics of him paired with other Naruto girls and OCs and I guess I like it how other fanfic writers portray him as masculine and sexy. Hmm...

Anyway, I want to know what you guys think. Please leave a comment. Thanks in advance!