The first time he almost fucked Hinata Hyuuga was when they were barely adults (he had just turned 17) and the idea had been plaguing him for weeks. He didn't think much of her, all curves and big breasts shamefully hidden behind oversized clothing and downcast eyes, but if she were to be his spouse, he could finally once and for all change his fate. They would have to accept him then.
She was training (as usual) when he came up behind her, emerging slowly from the woods without a sound; the only indication that she had seen him was a slight hunching of her shoulders as she continued to attack the wooden pole, wordlessly and out of breath. He paused at the other side of the training field, tossing her a glance over his shoulder, wanting to say something, anything, but it wasn't like them to talk so he let it drop and started some target practice instead.
A couple hours later he sighed and putting his shirt back on, walked across the clearing to leave. As he passed, she paused and he called out callously, "I'm going to get some dinner."
When she turned to look at him with those wide, pale eyes, he added, "Come on."
He knew she couldn't say no to him.
He had taken her to one of the nicer restaurants, and though she could have easily afforded it, insisted on paying. The conversation was nearly non-existent, and she kept twirling her long, black hair through her fingers in between bites.
She was timid around him, blushing whenever he looked at her for too long, obviously uneasy in his presence; she had the right to be after what he had done to her during their first chuunin exam. But she was timid around everyone so he thought maybe, just maybe she might have forgiven him. Though he didn't know why he wanted her to, he had just as much right to hate her for what he had been through growing up. It didn't matter that she had never personally done anything to him.
He had ordered some sake, hoping the drink would help put her at ease, loosen her up to the idea of his seduction later, after all it would probably take more than once to get her with child so he really needed to woo her into wanting more, but now that he thinks back on it, that was his first mistake.
He hadn't imagined that she'd barely drink half a glass by the time he'd finished the rest of the jug, trying to calm his own growing nervousness under her perceptive stare. It was only later when he leaned on her as she walked him home that she admitted she had no taste for the liquid and he admitted that he had no tolerance for it. It was the first time he ever saw her smile because of him.
The press of her felt good against him, soft and warm and like she fit, and he was feeling more confident after the drinks—too confident really—so he tightened his arm around her and swung them both down into the cold bushes beside the branch family gates. She "meep"-ed cutely, tangled against him and trapped beneath his weight as he slid his fingers into her silky hair and pulled her head back to capture her lips in what (he would never admit to anyone) was his first kiss. He was too drunk to register her squirming against him as any type of struggle, instead becoming excited by her writhing and the hot press of her mouth to his, nearly whining into her lips as he slid his hand down to cup her breast over the fabric of her jacket while the other one pressed her even tighter against him. Her knee bumped lightly between his and he thought this is it.When he pulled back to look into her face he nearly died at the sight of fear in her eyes, and in that moment, his stomach threatened to empty on him. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, he had never meant it that way, but somehow he couldn't force the words out so instead he got up and ran.
They shared a mission together the next week, neither of them willing to look at the other for more than a few seconds at a time, all interaction awkward and forced to the point that the other teammates had started to drop questioning hints, but she didn't mentioned it to him and so it had never been spoken of again. It was only later that stopped to wonder why she hadn't just subdued him in his moment of stupidity; he had seen her father teach her the command when she was only thirteen.
The second almost was just over a year later when she had come to him for comfort after having her heart crushed by that bastard Naruto. Actually, she hadn't come to him—he had run into her on the way back from a solo mission, happy enough at the opportunity for something that he could barely maintain his stealth. She had been crying and alone in the outskirts of the forest, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't spent many a long night with her in mind as he relieved the tension between his thighs. She hadn't changed much in anyway that he could tell, but he hadn't been able to keep her out of his mind since that embarrassing night. She visibly flinched when he landed beside her, almost changing his mind, but he owed it to her, and he wanted to, so he just crouched there, unmoving, and waited for her to speak.
With all respect, he had seen it coming. As much as Neji liked Naruto and wanted him to find happiness with Sakura, that boy was dumber than a brick when it came to Hinata and her true feelings for him. It hadn't surprised him—though he hadn't been happy about it—when Naruto finally decided to date Hinata, having grown weary and lonely in waiting for Sakura who was weary and lonely waiting for Sasuke. It was after Sakura had seen the two together on dates, holding hands in public (Hinata was too shy for kissing and he suspected Naruto had secretly been holding out for Sakura the entire time), smiling and being generally happy, that she had beaten him to a bloody pulp for no stated reason on their next team mission and then fucked him senseless afterwards. He had understandably been with her ever since.
Neji wanted to tell Hinata that she shouldn't cry because he was here and better and knew he could make her feel better if she'd just let him, but he didn't know why he suddenly felt that way, and it kind of scared him. He frowned instead and called her weak-willed because it was easier to hide behind lies, but what he really wanted to do was brush the hair back from her face and smudge away the tear stains on her cheeks, and he found himself leaning in to press his lips against hers. She stiffened and reached up suddenly, but he caught her wrist without looking, and he couldn't turn back now. He needed her to realize, to know, to feel what he was feeling or not feeling—he wasn't sure—and he was kissing her too hard to where she tried to pull away, but when he calmed down enough to soften and slow the kiss she actually returned the gesture. Her free hand fluttered uncertainly up the front of him, just barely grazing over the firm press of his chest, finally resting on his shoulder as they continued sucking and kissing and biting, breaking apart only for air and returning immediately to repeat the cycle. He ran the tips of his fingers across the smooth line of her jaw and down her neck to explore the hollow of her collar bone and knew finally that he wanted her for more than just sex or power. He broke his lips away and leaned into her, resting them just beside her ear and would have confessed, "I need you," but she chose that moment to murmur, "Neji-niisan."
Her use of the suffix instantly stilled him, a cold reminder of his fate. They weren't siblings, but she was warning him of his role as a Hyuuga and the fact that she was forbidden to his touch. Not because of their relationship—main household members intermarried all the time, and occasionally branch members were allowed to marry in but never, never to a Hyuuga heir. He lowered his head slightly, suddenly feeling awkward and trapped. He pulled away slowly, noticing the slight flush to her cheeks and neck, not sure what to say except that he didn't have to say anything because with an even deeper blush she leaned forward and captured his lips. It was light and sensual and much too short in his opinion, ending with a chaste brush of lips, and with his eyes closed he thought, maybe this is what love feels like.
But she finished, "We can't tell anyone about this," and for some reason he respected her wish.
The third time wasn't fucking—it was making love. Hinata had just turned 20, and her promotion to jounin and engagement were announced within the same week. It was an arranged marriage of her father's choosing so he didn't bother to congratulate her. He was, however, proud that she had finally reached his equal in status. It hadn't come easy to her as it had to him, and though he had been a jounin for years now, he somehow felt she had earned the title more so than him. His fingers played over the necklace's crystal—a pale, nearly colorless blue to match her eyes—before he changed his mind and left the jewelry store in silence. Their friendship had grown over the years but somehow he knew such a gift would be overstepping his bounds.
He had grown irritable since the announcement to the point that even TenTen and Lee had started to complain. They actually scowled at him as he sat at the dinner table, but they knew better than to broach the forbidden topic. Lee was nearly cross-eyed as he passed him the bottle of sake, mumbling for him to "Drink up, bastard" or he'd kick his ass, which Neji didn't doubt he'd try (and maybe succeed), so he shrugged and knocked it back, flinching at the familiar, bitter taste for the first time in years. TenTen merely slipped her arm through Lee's and admonished him not to make matters worse, knowing full well the consequences both of her teammates' drinking could bring. Lee grinned in return, leaning against her heavily as he pressed his forehead to hers, eliciting a smile in return, and at that moment Neji didn't want to be anywhere near his annoyingly coupled companions. So he stumbled out of the bar, waving a dismissive hand behind him at TenTen's attempts to call him back, and took some time to air out in a back alleyway.
When he was sure he could walk straight again and appear mostly normal, he peeled himself away from the cool stone wall and sauntered in the direction of the branch family compound. It wasn't far from the main houses, but somehow the thought of crossing Hinata in his drunken path hadn't entered his mind until she was there, staring and blushing at his approach. Her fiancé was also there—he didn't even know his name; really he was a nobody, not even a real ninja, but her father must have had some reason for choosing him as Hinata's consort (she would be the next leader of the clan because of her lineage), so he tried to smile as he approached which only resulted in a slight grimace resembling a sneer. He wouldn't have stopped, but he thought maybe that would hurt Hinata's feelings, so he paused awkwardly, not knowing what to say.
Finally he managed to ground out a "Congrats," and when her suitor smiled, he corrected, "on your promotion."
That immediately put some tension in the air, but he really didn't mind. Something about the guy just struck him as being all wrong, and he'd love nothing more than to smear his frowning face all over the pavement.
And then he said it. The nameless jackass hugged Hinata closer with one arm and replied, "It was inevitable. She's the pride of the Hyuuga family now. She should be lauded, unlike scum who try to rise above their station."
Hinata's face had gone pale. Neji had learned over the years that her blushing was more habit than anything, that she was really only truly mortified when her face blanched, drained completely of the pink heat her cheeks usually held.
Neji swallowed thickly and wanted to look away but somehow he couldn't stop his eyes from roving the length of her body, couldn't not notice that pale splash of thigh behind the lengthy slit in her black dress. His eyes settled on the jut of her collar bone just above the scooping neck line which revealed a hint of cleavage, and he let the heat show in his gaze. It wasn't the best move he could have made, but her lips just barely quirked in a smile, a hint of coloring returning to her cheeks, and then he felt the incapacitating burn in his skull that threatened to sear right through his forehead protector.
He buckled and fell to his hands and knees, arms quivering from the pain as his vision blurred and flickered, black then blinding splashes of light, then black again. He felt a trail of blood trickle down his face but couldn't reach up to smear it away. He heard Hinata scream—the only time he had ever heard her raise her voice—and he glanced up to see the hazy outline of her in front of him, arms spread wide as if that would do anything.
The pain actually intensified and as he finally passed out, he thought to himself, Oh, so this is how I die.
When he woke up, he could feel the hot liquid of tears in the corners of his eyes. It took some effort to open them, and when he looked around wearily, he didn't recognize any of his surroundings. His head ached, and his fingers were still shaking where he pressed them to the damp cloth over his forehead. He wanted to close his eyes again and fall back into sleep in this unfamiliar bed, but his instinct for survival had kicked in so he looked to Hinata, who didn't seem to find it unusual to be at his side, and croaked, "Where are we?"
She looked a little hesitant before answering, "M-my apartment."
When he continued to just stare at her, uncomprehending, she elaborated, "Some-sometimes I just need some time, ah, to think, a-away from the family."
"Away from your father," he corrected and instantly regretted it.
She didn't answer, and he didn't apologize but instead offered, "He stopped?"
He had tried to make it sound like he was merely stating the obvious, but he couldn't keep the lilt from his voice, the one that threatened to reveal his he-was-going-to-kill-me anxiety and made it into a question. She shook her head, not quite willing to look at him.
"You stopped him?"
He felt wonder and guilt at the idea, and shame. He frowned. He almost told her that he shouldn't have provoked him, but if anything Neji was proud so he kept his mouth shut until she reached for the cloth across his forehead. It was only then that he realized she had stripped his bandages to press the wet rag to his skin and that removing it would directly reveal the cursed seal. He caught her hand with a "Don't," but she easily slipped it away with her free hand before he could react, dipping it into the bowl of water on the bedside table.
She dabbed at his face and neck gingerly, finally stilling to just look at him, leaning closer as she traced her fingertips across the green markings, etched into his skin, her hair slipping forward to tickle his bare shoulder as she kissed the very center of his seal once before replacing the cloth. He closed his eyes and didn't wonder what Hinata must have felt like to use the gentle fist technique on her fiancé and what if any consequences there would be as he fell asleep.
The next morning he claimed her, slow and gently with smouldering kisses, loving her body in just the way he felt she deserved. It was several weeks later before he discovered that however shy Hinata liked to present herself as to the rest of the world, in the bedroom she liked to be on top. He didn't mind it when she pulled his hair and threatened to block more passage flows than just his chakra because fucking—really fucking—Hinata was something he had been waiting to do for a very long time.