.
.
She can't stop kissing him.
Some nights, she lies on his chest and kisses the side of his neck, dropping small kisses against the line of his jaw. She kisses his mouth and his neck and the hollow over his collarbone, moving up to kiss the triangle of muscle at the corner of his jaw.
His body is fascinating to her. Anko leans on his chest and splays her fingers out over his seal, silently feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His skin is pale and she can just make out the pale blue veins underneath. Idly she will undo the plaits in his hair and twist the long strands in her fingers, frowning over split ends and playing with the red clasps in her hands.
One night, she's leaning against his stomach when she kisses him, slow and deep, the sort of kiss that can go anywhere or nowhere at all. She kisses him and Kimimaro can feel her smiling against his mouth, and he pulls away gently to press a kiss at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes meet his and he sees her bite her lip.
"What is it?" Kimimaro says. Anko shifts, looking at him.
"You're really pretty, you know that?" Anko says.
"What?"
"Like, girly pretty." She flops against him, squeezing his shoulders. "Like, prettier than a girl."
She's teasing him again. She probably expects him to react like he normally does-by scowling, sighing, or pointedly ignoring her-but instead he reaches out a hand, then traces a soft line against the side of her face.
"You're prettier," Kimimaro says, and Anko's eyes widen. Surprised.
"What?" Anko says, but Kimimaro leans forward and gently kisses the shock from her mouth.