I was three years too young when you met me. If we'd both been fifteen maybe things would have been different: maybe I would have been braver and you less condescending. Maybe we wouldn't have wasted so many years in denial, distracting ourselves with other people, never being ready for each other at the same time. Maybe the fear and jealousy wouldn't have been so intense and I wouldn't have spent so long idolising you, trying to be enough for you, pining for the relationship we'd never have. But then again, maybe if things had been different, we wouldn't be such good friends now.
As it was, I was just a kid and you were a terrifying stranger who might as well have been from another world, crashing into my life being your beautiful and unobtainable self. Under the circumstances, the crush I had on you back then was inevitable. And that's all it was; a crush. That's all it possibly could have been – you were just a fantasy from a foreign land and I was an irrelevance to you.
But time passed and we challenged each other, we supported each other, the banter became softened by an undercurrent of genuine affection. Of course, you only ever visited for your political obligations, but the company was good, wasn't it? We sank into a nice little routine of me meeting you at the gates whenever you visited, even though we both knew you never really needed an escort.
The trouble with you crept up on me slowly, tightening its grip over the years. You had your whole life in Suna and you could have had any guy you wanted, of course I knew that. But I wanted you to want me and the more we grew alongside each other, the less unrealistic that prospect became. I could feel you watching me when you thought I wasn't paying attention and sometimes you'd lift your chin when I spoke as though you were proud of me. I noticed how you behaved differently when we were alone than when anyone else was around, how you let yourself be softer and more feminine with me than with anyone else. You call me Lord Nara in a patronising tone as if thinking about me like that it doesn't get you hot, and chastise me for smoking but never flinch when I blow back into your face.
I occasionally let myself get carried away with the idea. I can't remember the exact moment I realised that if I asked you out, you might no longer have laughed in my face or beaten me up, but instead have said yes. That you could belong to me, that you might wake up in my bed, wearing my shirt and my name; that we could fight alongside each other, for each other. Do you have any idea how fucking unstoppable we could be, Temari?
Luckily, the distance usually kept me grounded and any feelings I had for you, any future I might have imagined us having together, took a backseat to political obligations and, on occasion, to my actual partners. Long ago, I told myself I was never to going to ask you out. How could it have worked between us, even if you did like me the way I liked you? We're friends. I never wanted to ruin what we have.
How naive.
"You wanna talk about it?" he asks.
It's mid-morning and myself and the rest of the Hokage's entourage are headed east after our discussions with the Land of Rivers Daimyo.
Kakashi knows. Of course, Kakashi knows. I've never been the kind of guy to outwardly express any turmoil but he and I spend a lot of time together these days and he knows me better than most. Maybe nearly as well as you do. As we walk together, he must be able to sense my blood smouldering with the raw memory of your naked body against mine.
"Not yet," I tell him. It feels like my whole world has been flipped upside down and all I can do is put one foot in front of the other, waiting for any of this to make sense. My hands are cold. "Thanks."
Kotetsu and Izumo have gone on ahead, for which I'm grateful - I'd never hear the end of it from them - but Naturo circles back to walk with us.
"Hey, what's going on?" He's has been listening in. "Talk about what?"
Kakashi flashes a look at me from behind his mask. He won't out me if I'm not ready, and I'm not ready.
"It's nothing, Naruto. Don't worry about it." But it isn't nothing. It's everything.
I was looking forward to seeing you, I always do. You keep me on my toes politically with the vocal passion you have for your nation, and something about your company strengthens me. Recently, we've both been single and the tension between us has been a little more tightly wound than normal and, knowing I'd be seeing you here, I toyed with the idea of asking you directly about it, half hoping that you'd say you didn't think it would ever work between us so that I could get over it and move on. It's a question that seems so simple when you're not around, and completely ridiculous as soon as we're together.
You were epitomising the cunning and muscle of your nation, looking almost as brilliant and deadly in your formal robes as you do in your training gear. I should have anticipated that we wouldn't get much time alone – you had your brothers and a security squad with you and why should you prioritise my company over theirs? But I always want to make the most of our short time together and when I was bereft of you all day, I had to ask you to come and walk in the gardens.
I wasn't going to broach the subject of us when we first stepped outside. Of course I wanted to know if it was all in my head, if I would ever stand a chance with you, but the question itself isn't without risk. What if you thought I only wanted you physically and didn't appreciate you as a person? What if it made it weird and you didn't want to hang out any more? What if you did like me back but had no intention of ever acting on it because of the distance? I would have been gambling with such terrible odds: nothing to win and everything to lose.
So we walked as we always do: in comfortable silence between the sharing of insights about nothing in particular, losing track of time on such a nice evening. Truthfully, I didn't much care about the deer, but it was no shame to see that you were genuinely interested in the local horticulture. Sure, I'd have loved for it to have been an excuse to hang out with me, but you're never more vibrant than when enraptured by something you're passionate about and watching you there, crouching to rub mint leaves between your fingers to let the fragrance fill your lungs, I never wanted to go back to the house. Let it go dark, let us disappear to the shadows together.
You still feel so out of my league, even after all this time, even though we're completely different to who we were when we met. When I first had a crush on you, I'd never even kissed a girl and had no real idea what it meant to be with a woman. The first time I slept with anyone was immediately after one of your visits – I was young and restless and picked up a civilian girl in a little town outside of Konoha. I don't even remember her name and hope she didn't realise she was taking my virginity. Then there was my first real girlfriend, Aiya, who Ino introduced me to, who I stayed with for far too long trying to convince myself I loved her. She was a civilian and I tried to protect her from my work as much as possible, a habit which evolved into hiding a lot of myself from her. You never met, for that reason. Then there was the whole mess with Rikona, when trying to help her get back at her ex got horribly out of hand. She slapped me for ditching her for an escort mission when all that would have happened if I'd stayed with her is that I'd have shut my eyes and pretended she was blonde while fucking her. After that, I knew it never could have been anyone else except you.
The guys still ask me about you every so often. It used to be easy to deny and I found plenty of excuses: you were too troublesome, being your escort was enough of a drag. But as the excuses grew weaker, I resorted to plain old lying. I just don't think about her like that, I'd shrug, trying to keep a straight face, vowing no one would ever find that I never stopped thinking about you like that... about being your man and giving you family and looking after you and cumming (respectfully) down your throat. A year or two ago, Kiba said he was thinking of asking you out – since I was already seeing Aiya and wouldn't care. That's the only time I ever let my poker face slip. He told everyone he got his black eye training and I left my girlfriend. He never mentioned it again.
Okay, maybe it was a bigger deal than I let myself believe. Maybe you deserved to know. We walked towards the paddocks and I tried to find words that wouldn't come. Even though it could never really work between us I needed to know if you were mine in the same way that I am so profoundly, unwaveringly yours. But I'm a coward. And it's a recurring theme of our interactions that the more time I spend with you, the longer I look at you, the more impossible it seems that you could ever like me back.
I stood there, watching the deer, trying to decide how to tell you. But I could only focus on the glow of your smile in the dusk light and how the fresh autumnal air played through your hair and how there was a sprig of lavender stuck in the wrap of your skirt that you hadn't noticed and I ended up having to rein in my thoughts in an effort to dispel a modest but horribly timed erection. Eventually, you voiced that we should head back and, as always, you were right. It was getting cold (I worry about you feeling the chill more than I do) and there was no point waiting around for me to spoil a nice evening with too much truth. If there had been a chance to tell you what you meant to me, I'd missed it. We said goodnight and that was that.
Or so I assumed. I had no idea you were going to come to the library so late last night. After the rest of the guys went to bed and I couldn't settle, I stepped out of my quarters with half a mind to ignore the library and follow the hallway in the other direction to your room… but it was silly to even consider it. What did I think was gonna happen? You were gonna jump into my arms and invite me in to hang out with your brothers? No. Nothing was going to happen – I was going to the library.
But you just had to follow me, didn't you, Temari? I was minding my own business, enjoying my own company and the soft leather of the couches and the crackle of the fire, reading the same paragraphs of a book over and over and you walked in and ruined it just like you walked into my life when we were kids. It didn't look from your expression as though it was intentional but you still came and sat by me in those shorts, a little closer to me than you would have done anyone else. I wasn't going to tell you. I wasn't going to let you know that I don't want to be "just friends" any more, I wasn't going to roll the dice and gamble with the worst fucking odds of my life. It was too dangerous – I knew that as soon those walls came down that everything we are and everything I am would be splintered to pieces by the morning. But you just had to push it, didn't you? We'd been talking and you put your hand on my thigh and that was all it took to break me. There was no way I was ever going to let you get away.
You have no idea how long I've waited to kiss you, how many times I've thought of how it might happen. How did it never occur to me that the most poignant bit would be how you kissed me back? I'd obviously taken you by surprise and I had no idea how you were going to react, whether it be killing me then and there or telling me you never wanted to see me again. Instead, your lips pressed against mine with the same urgency that mine did yours and your hands were on my skin and it seemed like you wanted me in ways I've only ever fantasised about. I put my mouth to your neck and the noises you made, Temari... if you'd only told me that one day I could make you make noises like that, I'd never have been with anyone else.
You were so intoxicating, with your tits woefully uncontained by that soft little top which is going to plague my dreams for years to come, with the filth of how you looked into my eyes with my fingers in your mouth, with how your hips rolled to assault the erection that was already leaking against my pants. If I'd had time to overthink it I might still have been worried that it was a joke you were playing on me: is your tongue in my mouth as a friend? Are you moaning for me platonically? Is your little pink cunt dripping over my fingers to strengthen the alliance between our nations? Luckily, everything else evaporated from my head and there was only the pair of us together: there was only my lungs saturated with your musk that I fancied was still accented with residual mint and lavender, only your hand grazing along the edge of my cock, only us finally giving in to needing each other. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to quit overthinking to stop intellectualising and just let myself feel something?
I would have done you on the couch but at least taking us to the floor meant that I got to watch how your ass filled out your shorts as you lead me there. You let me undress you and I've never been less in control of myself than when slipping your little shorts down so that you were laid totally bare beneath me. Your nipples were hard despite the heat from the fire, the flickering light casting strong, clean shadows around us and making your burnished skin look like pure gold. I still can't believe you've had a body like that for years and you'd never let me worship it on my knees before. Every inch of me is so in love with your muscle and your scars and the heat of you and everything I can squeeze my hands into.
The soft skin of your inner thighs brushed against my hips as I settled between your legs and you were looking up at me like you were daring me to fill you. I needed to hear your voice saying how much you wanted this, and you said that you wanted me. The head of my cock resting just between your lips so I could feel your heat, your wetness… you cannot know how badly I needed you in that moment. Feeling your breath rumble as you moaned against my lips when I pushed inside you, how your hand gripped into the rug before clinging around my back, pulling my body against yours. Slowly at first, bathing in the feeling of your walls tight and slick around me, until we relaxed and I could fuck you like it was the end of the world. Then you were looking down, watching us together, watching yourself take the length of me and I could feel you burning underneath me and I knew you must have felt me aching for you, trying to match your rhythm without my cock threatening to end it already.
The way you tensed when you were close to finishing, how your voice changed... The wetness of the noises between us and your skin slapping against mine. It's never been so difficult to slow down, to wait, but you are Temari of the Sand and you deserve so much more than I can ever give you. You put so much work into being strong and responsible and professional and powerful; you're always looking after your brothers and your nation and I hope I might finally be good enough to look after you.
You wanted to touch yourself and I didn't allow it, gripping hard around your wrist, and it felt like how we spar all the time, pushing each other, being cruel to each other, except so much more delicious. I was loving playing with you by now, my ferocious kunoichi writhing and squealing for me. I was desperate to taste you everywhere, the plumpness of your breasts and the softness of your belly and that pussy that had been so good at keeping my cock warm for me. I didn't let myself lick you between your legs straight away, busying myself in thighs that could have crushed me if you'd chosen, knowing how you were about to melt under me. I've heard some shinobi describe a similar lustful anticipation before killing a man. I've never found much joy in killing but I can imagine this feeling of power being similar.
And fuck, Temari, the taste of you… if I could have climbed inside you, I would have done. I'll never be able to forget how your hips bucked under my mouth, my lips on yours, all spit and arousal, your skin smooth and sweet under my tongue while I ate you like you were my last meal. I've never in my life been harder than having my face between your legs on that library rug. I don't think I'll ever be able to see you again without thinking about your fingers gripping into my hair while I was loving you like that.
How I've dreamed of experiencing your orgasm with my face between your legs but last night my cock wouldn't allow it. As soon as you began to arch your back and clench around my fingers, letting me know you were almost there, I had to crawl up your body and be inside you when you came. You kissed me like you were starved, tasting yourself on me, and I was thankful you were already so tightly coiled because there's no way I would have lasted much longer. Watching you come, feeling you come around me was so beautiful. How your body jerked under mine even when I held you down, surrounded by the noises you were making and how tightly you held me, looking at me like you were drowning in it.
I've never cum so hard. I have no idea how I kept moving with my limbs so weak, just every part of me yearning to be as deep inside you as possible until there was nothing left of me. We were sweaty as our skin slapped together, and that feeling of release coursing my veins like a drug hit, my abs clenching, pulling me into you, filling you as you gripped around me. Even after it began to subside and we were still trembling, I needed to stay inside you, to keep your walls warm around my cock. We smiled together and you kept kissing me and reality started to come back… the reality that we were on the floor together when anyone might have walked in to investigate the noise. The reality that we'd both have to head home in a few hours with no way of knowing when we'd see each other again. There was a voice inside me like a man on fire screaming to get out, that this will kill me… but there was no way in hell I was gonna let go of you. I had to lie there with you, naked by the fire, the air cold now against our sweat, our bodies soft and post-coital, stroking your hair while you looked at me like… like you could have loved me. If things were different.
I should have held you there all night and maybe they'd have forgotten about us and we wouldn't have had to leave each other.
We only caught a moment alone this morning. We'd dressed and left the library separately, trying our best not wake anyone when we went back to our quarters smelling of sex with our hair a mess, and didn't see each other until breakfast. And then, we were surrounded by both of our squads and the Daimyo and his staff. They were all talking about yesterday's discussions but I couldn't care less. Nothing held any significance except seeing you bathed and dressed, chatting to your comrades as though you hadn't been screaming and clenching over a Leaf-nin's cock inside you hours before.
After an hour or so of trying not to catch your eye too suspiciously, I finally found you alone by one of the windows in the meeting hall. It isn't strange for us to be fleetingly alone together at the end of a Kage meeting… we're friends, after all. We're just friends.
I couldn't find the words but you always seem to know what to say.
"I'm really glad last night happened."
You didn't look at me, instead gazing out over the mansion grounds with a straight face so that anyone observing might have thought you were simply commenting on the weather.
All I could manage was "me too" before your brother interrupted us. But there's so much more I need to say to you, Temari.
"I don't mean to pry," Kakashi speaks to me again, his voice lowered this time, when he's sure Naruto is out of earshot. "But is this a good I-don't-wanna-talk-about-it or a bad I-don't-wanna-talk-about-it?"
He's asking if you shot me down or not, but you and I both know it isn't that simple. Because the truth is that I've wanted to share a night like last night with you for longer than I can remember and it destroys me to know that we can't have that every day. I can't strategise a way for us to ever be properly together, and a part of me grieves for everything our friendship was and will never be again, knowing that we – whatever we were – is over and any kind of real relationship can never begin. The whole time I've wanted you, I've been scared of you not wanting me back when I should have been scared of this emotional purgatory we've sentenced ourselves to.
"It's a best-night-of-my-life I-don't-wanna-talk-about-it."
My Hokage slaps me on the shoulder to show his appreciation while I feel sick. I'm headed in the wrong direction and my body knows it, the bittersweet taste of your affection still on my lips. There is no one else, Temari, I know that now. There will never be anyone else. Everything inside me wants to go to you, but how can that ever be a possibility? I'll think of something, Temari, I'll find a way to be with you if you'll have me. Because I can't carry on like this. I can't keep pretending that I don't love you.
