The feeling of someone's eyes gazing at my body woke me.

I blinked my eyes open and quickly determined that I was both in the hospital wing of the Akatsuki base, and I was still resting on Kisame's bed. I ought to complain to Kakuzu sometime; the hospital mattresses are far comfier than the ones we're assigned in our bedrooms-

My thoughts were interrupted by Kisame's gaze on me. I knew by now that it had to be Kisame; no one else but my partner was present in the room, and he was the only one who would dare keep his attention on me for such a long period of time. "Is there a reason you keep looking at me?" I inquired before sitting up and glancing over to meet my partner's gaze.

I expected my words to phase him, at the very least. But no, he sat there, eyes still on me, looking as though I'd simply asked him the time and date. "Does it bother you?" he shot back.

"Not really." Why should it bother me? I don't mind being looked at, and keeping an eye on me only ensures that Kisame can do a more effective job as bodyguard during his watch.

He gives me a disbelieving look, and I carefully repeated what I've just said in my mind. I curse myself as the realization sinks in. He took the meaning of my words that way. Which, although I eventually want him to think of me that way, still bothers me. It was a slip of the tongue, and too many of those could throw the master plan into chaos.

Deciding to salvage what I could, I lay back down on the bed and shut my eyes once more. "I'm going back to sleep."

"You've been sleeping for the last twelve hours," my partner complained as he lay down next to me.

"And you were asleep for eighteen hours before that," I countered. "Hence, I'm entitled to six more hours of sleep before it's my shift." That should settle that argument.

But it didn't. Kisame moved closer to me, coming dangerously close to destroying the bubble of personal space I had to maintain around me at all times. "Could you at least get off the bed?" he requested.

"Hn," I replied as I turned over to give him my back. He wouldn't push me any further; despite my earlier admittance of not wishing to harm him, he knew that I would injure/maim him if provoked. Sure enough, I was left in peace after that.

Eventually, I did relax enough to drift back to sleep; at least, near unconsciousness. I rolled onto my stomach, face turned towards the wall (or rather, away from Kisame and the accursed window that insisted on letting sunlight into the room) and was nearly asleep when I felt gentle pressure applied to my scalp.

Startled out of my rest, I remained motionless. The person touching me had to be Kisame; no one else had entered the room. But what was he…?

The fingers on my head began to move, stroking my hair as they gently undid the knots that had formed in my locks whilst I slept. In a flash, the truth hit me.

Kisame was playing with my hair. And I wasn't attempting to stop him.

I put aside the former fact for a moment, and questioned the latter. Why wasn't I sitting upright at this very instant and stabbing him repeatedly for daring to touch me? When the truth hit, it made me want to puke. I wasn't halting his movements because I was enjoying this.

I tried to recall the last time that I'd allow someone to touch me like this. I think it was back during my days as a Konoha ninja. Yes, I was tucking Sasuke in one night, and like any small child would, he hugged me and kissed my cheek as I pulled the covers up over his body.

This thought surprised me. To think, I'd gone so many years without any form of affection, and I hadn't missed it. At least, I didn't think that it had been something I'd missed.

Yet as Kisame continued to gently tousle my hair, doubt began to creep into my mind. It was as if his caring ministrations were opening the door to the blasted human side of me that I had been so careful to seal up all those years ago.

Before I could go down that path any further, I decided to shift my focus to the fact that Kisame was actually touching me. Up until yesterday, the man had been convinced that I was hell-bent on either harming or killing him at some point; yet here we were, lying together in a bed, him playing with my hair and me pretending to be asleep.

I should have sat up then and stopped him. Even opening my eyes and glaring up at him would have been enough to halt his actions and let my worries about needing care and questions over his movements die.

But I chose not to do anything. Instead, I snuggled deeper into my pillow and allowed him to continue his actions. The truth was, I was enjoying myself quite a bit at the moment, and had absolutely no intention of stopping him unless it became completely and totally necessary to do so.

-n-

Several nights later, we were back in our shared room. Nothing had happened since that day in the hospital; I had said nothing, and he, of course, had done the same.

At the moment, he was asleep on our bed, and I was sitting nearby. It was almost time for him to take over; the bags under my eyes were a testament to that.

As I sat there, watching for the appearance of nonexistent enemies, I chanced a glance down at my slumbering partner. His breathing was surprisingly soft; if you didn't know better, you'd think he was dead. Kisame's head was tilted to the side, a few strands of deep blue hair dangling down into his face.

Without even thinking about it, I brushed those few locks away from his countenance. The texture of the hair surprised me; I'd been expecting something harsh or rough to match Kisame's…well, Kisameness. And yes, that's a word. Care to fight about it? I didn't think so.

More out of surprise than anything else, I actually began to play with his hair. Yes, the apocalypse was clearly at hand, but aside from that I was fascinated. The blue locks were nearly as soft as mine, yet I was certain Kisame didn't have the same devotion as I when it came to hair care-"What are you doing?"

Kisame. Woke. Up.

There were many things that I could have said at that moment. Yet none of them were nearly as stupid as my actual reply, which was, "Returning the favor." In the instant that his eyes widened, I knew that he knew. Kami, why art thou so cruel?

"You…were awake?" Seeing no point in denying the charge now, I nodded my head. "And you didn't stop me?" Another nod. I then braced myself for the dreaded question I knew would follow. Three, two, one-"Why?"

How was I supposed to answer that?! Tell him I enjoyed the caresses? Admit that I'd gone so long without affection that I couldn't bring myself to stop him? No, all of that nonsense was out of the question. The only thing I could tell him was, "I didn't see any reason to stop you."

"So…you liked it?"

"It's your shift," I murmured as I lay down on my side of the mattress. This conversation was over, and I swore that if he ever brought it up again, I'd slit his throat, the scheme be damned.

I thought that he'd decided to drop the matter and leave me be. Yet a few hours later, I felt a now familiar pressure applied to my head, followed by Kisame's fingers moving through the locks.

I opened my eyes this time and glared up at him. I would not allow myself to fall victim to his touches again. He looked down at me, golden eyes matching my onyx black ones as his hand froze.

I'm not sure what happened in that moment. But something…something irreversibly altered between the two of us. As soon as it happened, I knew there was no point in trying to fight the change; whatever that change may have been.

Kisame broke the stillness between the two of us as his fingers began moving again. Despite my knowledge that this was a bad idea, I shut my eyes and gave into the pleasurable feeling my partner was now causing. I could beat myself up for this mistake in the morning; for the time being, I was going to enjoy myself.