AN: This one has been sitting in the drafts for literal months. I've written this chapter like three times. And decided that I should just say fuck it, I combined all three versions and here we are.
I have a tumblr. Same username.
As she was about to leave the grand office of the Suna embassy, she stopped for a second in front of the reflective windows and studied herself. Surely she is aware, and proud at that, of her figure: long, slender legs, dips at the hips, sizable chest. She knew looks can kill a man, and she could definitely kill a man. But with an enticing body as hers, she still often wondered if she had a face to match. No doubt she is pretty, but was it the kind of face that men looked at and wanted to bore children with? Or was her status as royalty and smirk of a fierce kunoichi too much for men to bear, so they look away in fear, regardless of how pretty her face looked?
She brushed the thought away. Did she want to be a mother? Did she even want to get married? Last she checked, she had no trace of maternal instinct in her body, let alone any form of wifely material. Perhaps her life's sole purpose was to fulfill the duties that were ingrained in her blood from generations upon generations: to uphold the Suna name and to ensure that her bloodline reputation was tarnished by no man, woman, or shinobi.
The moment she stepped out onto the street, she heard a familiar voice calling out to her. "Temaaaaaari!" Temari turned to see a waving Ino and smiled in return. As Ino strutted her way towards Temari, Temari marveled at Ino's outwardly appearance: lighter hair, lighter eyes, hips naturally sashaying with every step. Ino was definitely a gorgeous woman, and an approachable one at that. From looks alone, Ino was the type of woman men would not be afraid to buy a couple drinks for. And she was the type of woman mothers would want their sons to date. For with Ino, everything about her was curated with purpose. Effort was probably second nature as it was obvious how perfectly styled her hair was everyday and how her lips were always properly glossed. A slight envy crept up in the pit of Temari's stomach as she wishes she were a woman like Ino: a gentle nature, in appearance and poise. A word that cannot be used to describe Temari under any capacity.
"It's been a while," Temari greeted, stepping in for a small hug. "How've you been?"
Ino sighed sweetly. "This is all god damn tiring, Temari. I just got back from leading a week-long escort mission and our beloved Hokage is sending me on another." Temari chuckled in sympathy. "What about you? How long is your stay this time?"
"I'm here for another four days."
"Perfect!" Ino grabbed ahold of Temari's hands. "Some of us are having drinks this weekend! If you're not busy, please join us!"
Temari stepped back a bit. "Oh, I—"
Before Temari could finish her sentence, Ino wrapped an arm around Temari's shoulders. "Oh stop it, Temari! You know you could use some winding down!"
Temari is well aware she could definitely use some winding down. But although she's quite familiar with Konoha and majority of its shinobis, she was still reluctant to join them in such a casual and non-sober environment. "I just didn't pack anything…"
"So what! I bet the boys will just show up in their mission gear anyway! Come on! Show us how you Sunans have fun!"
Just before Temari was about to firmly, but kindly (or kind enough to her personal capabilities) turn down Ino's invite, Ino waved her arm over to some company behind them.
"Boys!" Ino called out.
Temari turned around to see the two other members of Team 10 approaching: one's gait purposeful and heavy, while the other languid and lazy.
"Can you believe this, Temari?" Ino chimed as she forced herself in the middle of the two men, locking her arms around each of their elbows. "All three of us were assigned to a mission! Our first one together in a while!"
Temari nodded, slightly smiling. "A rare occasion, but I'm glad. And how long will this mission take?"
"Only a day," Chouji replied bubbly. "It's an escort mission for an overly paranoid daimyo who is quite fond of the Ino-Shika-Cho formations."
"Good luck," she nodded to the chubby one. "Work carefully," she smiled at Ino. "Be safe," she finally addressed the last member.
Half a cigarette dangled from his mouth as he rubbed the base of his pony tail. "I have no say in the matter."
"Die then."
And on that note, Temari walked away.
With a day full of meetings, policy hearings, and squeezing in some Suna's political responsibilities in between, exhausted could not even begin to describe the weight that slumped on Temari's shoulders. On her way back to her hotel, she picked up a to-go plate of grease and carbs and intended to watch some mindless Konohan sitcoms and then take a long, hot bath afterwards. Although she's in another country and is supposedly working, she technically has the morning off the next day. In an attempt to bond the two countries together, she was requested to offer some training at the Academy but her session does not begin until the late afternoon. And considering that she had nothing else, or no one else, to occupy her morning, she figured she could take her time pampering herself tonight.
She sat through an hour worth of TV, her dinner long gone within the first 15 minutes. And then sat another hour or so in the tub until the water was no longer hot and the bubbles were just a thin film sitting on the surface. She washed and deep-conditioned her hair, shaved, and even reshaped her eyebrows. A cloud of steam followed behind her as she stepped out of the bathroom door in an old, baggy t-shirt and half-damp hair. It was past 1 a.m., but just as she was about to crawl into bed, she noticed a dark, slender figure idly leaning against the wall by the balcony door frame, a single dot of orange light hanging by his lips.
"So you didn't die," she said, voice low, as she opened the balcony doors.
"Disappointed?"
Temari walked back into the small hotel kitchen and withdrew two beers from the mini fridge. Popping off the lids from both bottles, she handed one to Shikamaru while taking a sip from the other. Shikamaru made no change in his stance, but as he slowly reached an arm out to grasp the beer, Temari noted the way he winced from the small movement.
"You're hurt."
"Not at all," he croaked after gulping down half the bottle.
"You're an awful liar."
Before he could rebut, she had already made her way back into the kitchen, repositioning the two kitchen chairs to face one another. "Sit," she demanded. Reluctant and in obvious pain, Shikamaru pushed himself off the wall and took a seat. He knew better than to argue with this woman, especially in his wounded state. He watched as she rummaged through the hotel drawers before taking out a first aid kit. "Can you take your shirt off?" she called over her shoulder.
Groaning in what seemed to be annoyance or pain, or maybe both, Shikamaru unzipped his vest and took his long sleeve off, leaving just the mesh undergarment. He leaned both his elbows on his knees, beer bottle still hanging on one hand, as Temari lifted the mesh and inspected his back. His entire backside was decorated with bruises of varying colors, some a light yellowish-green while some a deep purple.
"How the hell…" Temari gasped.
"Ambush."
"I take it this was more than just an escort mission?"
"It was, but it wasn't a person we were escor— AH FUCK!" Temari immediately retracted her hand away from a dark bruise she was applying herbal cream to. "Can you be any more gentle?" Shikamaru hissed.
His words stung more than Temari cared to admit. No matter how hard she tried, medical ninjutsu was not up her alley. And apparently neither was administering basic first aid care. It was not that she had limited chakra control or not enough intellect to understand this complex branch of ninjutsu, but she found she just didn't have enough patience, empathy, nor gentleness to carry out the duties of a medical-nin. Her mind then suddenly drifted to Ino, an effeminate woman who Temari not only envied for perfectly filling out that role, but also for being versed in medical ninjutsu. A small pang of jealousy arose in her and she put the cream away.
"Well if you cared too much about the delicacies, then why did you come here?" she scoffed.
Shikamaru didn't say anything. Instead, he brought the beer back up to his lips and took a small sip before he resumed his elbows back onto his knees. Without hearing any more ounce of resistance, Temari went back to applying the cream, more conscious this time of where she was touching and how much pressure she was applying. And after a few more winces and whispered hisses, Temari finally finished treating the bruises on Shikamaru's back and pulled his mesh shirt down.
Shikamaru stood up and rolled his shoulders, groaning in pain once more. He chugged the rest of his now-warm beer and tossed the bottle into the sink.
"You know," Temari started, still a bit offended, "I think it's best you see Ino, or Sakura, or any other kunoichi for that matter next time you're hurt."
With the water still running, Shikamaru splashed his face a few times before turning around. "You know I'm not gonna do that," he said, crossing his arms and leaning onto the counter. The moonlight shining in through the balcony door bounced off his high ponytail and Temari had to suppress her need of wanting to reach out and run her fingers through.
"It'll be a lot less painful. Way more gentle."
"Doesn't matter. It's all the same."
A comfortable silence hung in between them for a while. The sound of the sink dripping was the only thing Temari could hear as she watched the rise and fall of Shikamaru's chest, stippled with tiny splotches of sink water. Sighing, she closed the space between them and rested her forehead against his torso. "Relieved," she spoke into him, her voice muffled.
"Hm?"
"You asked if I was disappointed."
Shikamaru heaved a deep sigh. With a finger, he tipped Temari's chin up to his face and planted a small kiss on her lips. "Me too." Stepping into his space, Temari also stole the light that drifted in through the glass doors, highlighting her delicate features. With his thumb, Shikamaru gently traced the outline of her chin, and then her jaw, and then her cheek until he was cupping her face in his palm. She nestled into his hand as he slowly caressed her. The night was cold, but there was enough heat between their touching skin to set both on fire.
And with that, Temari stepped in closer. She wrapped her hands around the base of his neck and tiptoed to meet his height to plant another kiss. It was meant to be another quick one, a small one, but Shikamaru's large hands were now settled into the curve of her hips. Feeling his fingers pressed into her skin, she deepened the kiss. He pulled her in closer. His hands gradually traveling downward. Their lips in sync, breathing unstable. He pulled away and peppered wet kisses by her ear, down the base of her neck, to her collarbones.
"No," she whispered against his hair.
"Yes."
Lips never leaving her skin, he pushed her backward, slowly, until the back of her knees met the foot of her bed.
She pressed her hands against his chest. He lifted off her shirt. "You're injured," she breathed.
"Then be gentle."