[Naruto] NejiHina Smut Themes 26-30
Title: NejiHina Smut Themes 26-30
Author: runespoor7
Rating: NC-17
Summary: eigth set of smutty drabbles.
Notes: 27. New and 28. Vision are both Celebrationverse, and 29. Laughter is the big return of the CreepyTP. Or, well, in this case...
ETA: I've just realised that I didn't include the link to my inspiration for 30. Stupid. Here it is, one of hiasobi's themes 26. The way things are. I'm really, really sorry for forgetting to add it in my original A/N.
26. Power
Hinata loves running the tip of her tongue on the underside of Neji’s cock, like it’s a lifeline drumming in echo to the pulse between her legs.
She likes taking her time tasting him; she’s never in a hurry when she feels his muscles quiver under her palms, resting on his thighs or against his hips. He keeps his body taut as he tries not to move. His panting echoes heavily in her ears; his hands clench and unclench at his side, grasping at the sheet under his hands if they’re on a bed, more often clutching thin air as his knuckles rap against the wall.
The trembling in Neji’s body grows more intense as Hinata deposits a butterfly-light kiss on the fold of his groin, stroking the skin stretched on his hipbones with her thumb. Neji shifts against her, jutting his member out; Hinata smiles against his skin, but she moves her mouth back to his cock.
She doesn’t dislike teasing him, but it’s not an end in itself. Hinata likes the whole process of giving a blowjob more.
A muffled keening sound escape from Neji’s throat when she affixes her lips to the head of his cock, smearing her lips in precome before sealing them on him, drinking him as he flows. She lets his taste spread on her tongue, the sharp saltiness that is all Neji’s, glancing up at him. He must be biting on his lips from the inside, a white, thin straight line, his eyes wide and hazy with lust as he looks down at her.
Without taking her eyes away, she applies her tongue against his slit - not doing anything more yet; merely letting him feel it. Neji’s eyes widen further.
Hinata loves it when she starts taking him in, slowly, and Neji jolts, when a cry is torn from his mouth, his hips give a brusque start - as if he only stopped his body before it thrust itself entirely into her mouth - and his hands tangle in her hair, fall on her head but stay still as if they weren’t sure whether they should apply pressure or not.
Neji can’t conceal the tension strumming in his body and it’s like he doesn’t dare to demand anything from her, as if he was afraid Hinata would just stop if he tried to push.
The fingers twitching in her hair send tingles down her spine as she lowers her mouth around his cock, slick lips taking in inch after torturous inch.
Neji’s left hand has moved to her shoulder and is now crushing her collarbone in an attempt to avoid taking the back of her head and just slamming forward. The pain shoots through Hinata’s arm and back, but somehow it only emphasizes her arousal, and the texture and feel of Neji, his weight in her mouth.
She works to loosen the muscles at the back of her throat in preparation, breathing as steadily as she can through her nose. He’s still only halfway in her.
Drops of sweat trickle down his stomach, testament to the efforts he’s making to stay still; Hinata’s hands are sticky and slippery with it, she has to draw her fingernails to keep her support.
His other hand fumble at the back of her head, digging into her neck while Hinata hums in concentration around his shaft.
It’s only when Hinata has her whole mouth around him, her tongue pressing and swirling around him at the best of what she can reach that she starts sucking.
Neji’s head thumps against the wall as his back arches and his control finally gives.
Hinata’s throat constricts around him, suddenly raw, and she swallows greedily the bitter fluid shooting down her throat as Neji comes with a shout.
What Hinata loves the best when she goes down on him, though, is that Neji always calls her name.
27. New
Just because something was impossible didn't mean it wouldn't happen.
That was the first lesson he learnt, when he was fumbling into her clothes - and a voice at the back of his mind was wondering, what are you doing? - and marvelling at the skin he found, smooth, so smooth, as smooth and soft and perfect as he remembered it from when he'd pulled her sleeve up during their prelim match.
He'd put his hand firmly on her arm, a little awed even then at the girl skin, he remembered thinking, but the thought had immediately been driven away by the correction, Main House skin. Smooth and soft and unfit for a ninja.
At the time he'd wanted to bruise it.
He wanted to feel it, all of it, putting the flat of his hands on her breasts, how round and warm; his heart was pounding in his chest as his hands stroked and slid further down.
By all laws, he should have been punished then; and he was waiting for instant retribution, in the form of lightning smiting him or his curse seal flaring to life and pain, he wasn't sure. It was definitely an act worthy of punishment. He was undressing the Hyuuga heir, after all. With impure intent. (If someone came by he was so screwed. Not in the way he was rooting for.)
He didn't withdraw.
It was an act worthy of punishment.
He had his heart in his suddenly very dry throat. He was touching breasts and he was not getting disciplined for it and those were Hinata breasts and oh god.
Pushing the top out of the way with impatient hands, he lowered his head and nuzzled.
The small part of him that was hopelessly pessimistic hadn't managed to suspend its disbelief and was even now counting the ways he was going to die, and then burn in hell, for that violation, while trying to turn his attention away from Hinata's heartbeat - he could feel Hinata's heart beating, right there under his ear, like a bird fluttering in her ribcage, how mad was that - and to the door, where someone was bound to appear.
Probably her father, with Neji's track record.
Amazingly, the door didn't open.
Hinata emitted a weird sound and logically Neji should have been planning a hasty retreat, or at any rate some shameless begging that he was going to be good promise, if she could just tell him how to do it which, again, logically made little sense because since when had Hinata been known for telling others what to do, but on the other hand she had been the one doing the initial and un-forewarned for kissing and pushing back into the hospital bed and straddling and tugging at articles of clothing, which in Neji's case mostly meant a shapeless hospital gown, and oh god, that did it, he was delirious after his near-death encounter of the spidery kind, delirious and hospital-stuck and drug-filled and sadly, sadly lacking a cousin in his bed.
Then Hinata just kind of pushed her breasts into his face and under his mouth, and her nails scrapped his shoulders, and Neji decided that if he was drugged it was definitely on the good stuff - which was slightly surprising, because he was pretty sure they'd been reducing his painkillers for several days, as he'd been hurting like a bitch and consequently considerably cranky.
Right now, the crankiness had vanished like snow in spring, and the prickly-burning sensation left by her nails didn't quite rank on the ow-ow-owie scale that had been his life for the biggest part of the past weeks.
So, without worrying about anything anymore, Neji obligingly gave in and started sucking on the nipples that were so endearingly making themselves known.
His mouth might have been watering by that point.
28. Vision
The first time he and Hinata do anything after the jutsu that burned his Byakugan off, Neji already knows he will never regain his eyesight.
Tsunade explained how the blood in his eyes vessel was heated until it ran white, a variation of a medical jutsu used in some cases of recurrent headaches; here, twisted almost beyond recognition.
Neji isn't really surprised that Tsunade-sama identified more than a touch of Orochimaru's inspiration.
He's not surprised, but it's just his luck to be nailed by a formerly unknown kinjutsu. He takes it in stride, though, figuring that of course a doujutsu user would be permanently blinded. That's in keeping with his luck so far.
What is truly ironic is that, had his Byakugan be inactive, he would still be able to use it.
Tsunade sounds even less happy when she tells him that, and Neji knows in that moment that she didn't want to let him know, but she says that his clan head willed it so.
Neji nods and Tsunade leaves with a sigh.
The door squeaks open; Tsunade's steps, recognisable by the clatter of her high-heeled sandals, pause. Then a soft patter enters the hospital room and the door closes. The sound of the Hokage walking away echoes distantly in the corridor.
He turns to face Hinata. He knows it's her.
He wants to greet her, thank her for not hiding anything from him, but he doesn't manage to.
He doesn't see her expression as she walks closer to the bed. Even if he cannot, he can easily perceive the sadness in her steps. She's always been quiet, when walking through the Hyuuga compound, especially compared to her father's self-assured, proud walk.
It used to annoy Hiashi, Neji knows, when the three of them found themselves walking in the same corridor at the same time, and Hinata's steps were those that rang the least, almost entirely muffled. He always thought it sounded as if Hinata was leading, softly, clearly, immediately before Neji and her father. The echo of her steps was drowned by their more martial stride. Or amplified.
He doesn't need to see her to know she is here, know how she feels.
And her steps are coming closer.
He's the one reaching out when she stops next to the bed. He can't see her, he doesn't care to hear her; he doesn't want to think about the future or the past; that there are no blind Hyuuga and how Hinata looks when she smiles.
He doesn't see her as he takes her clothes off, as she sends her arms around his neck to force him downwards, as she bites her lips to keep the sounds in. He isn't aware of anything but her body, like the only freedom he has ever known.
His palms run up and down her sides, taking their time; he follows the curve of her jaw with his lips, down her neck and the hollow of her throat, the warm globes of her breasts; he rubs his thumbs against her wrist before kissing it softly, the bone then the tender inner skin, and each of her knuckles and the tips of her fingers, memorising how they tremble softly against his lips.
He tucks his hands beneath her waist, the flare of her hips fitting perfectly in his hands, and he lifts them slightly. The muscles shift as he manoeuvres her, contract suddenly when his hands linger on her buttocks before sliding smoothly to the back of her knees.
Then he carefully changes how his hands are set, so he can raise her legs by folding them at the knee, and he spreads them open when they're high enough, gauging mentally against his memories. He thoughtfully lowers his head to kiss her breast, testing how he should fit their hips; how the inside of her thighs feels on each side of him.
He feels more than hears the catch in her chest as he kisses her again slowly, minutely lower than the first time. She thinks he's about to take her.
For now he's content mapping her body. He has one more verification to make before taking the final step.
His fingers are splayed on the outsides of her thighs, his thumbs resting against the inner side of her knees. The skin there is soft; he moves his thumbs upwards - a few millimetres, not even that, not even enough for a kunai to miss by a hair. So far he's kept his touch light; merely firm enough to position her.
She jerks when he presses his thumbs down on this precise point, her back arching and all of her muscles tensing, her breath coming short and frightened-sounding; wet and needy. Neji finds he can imagine her parted lips and her wide eyes perfectly; she shifts under him, bringing her wetness against his erection.
For the first time since they began, Neji can feel himself smiling.
29. Laughter
“Shouldn’t you be more worried about yourself? After all, she has survived one year so far. There is no guarantee you will be so lucky.”
Kabuto’s voice curls like a light, thick scarf around Neji’s throat. The older man isn’t touching him, but Neji feels his presence hovering behind his back, too close for comfort.
“Let me see her,” he says through gritted teeth. The manacles around his wrists are restraining his chakra, and the blindfold negates his Byakugan, and his demand is actually a plea. “Let me see Hinata-sama.”
He feels Orochimaru’s second-in-command lean until his hand is resting on Neji’s left shoulder, and his breath brushes against the right side of Neji’s neck. “She isn’t in a state to receive any visit for now, but if you’d like...”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, letting the unsaid words dissipate like smoke and clouds Neji can interpret any way he wishes according to his fancy.
Kabuto doesn’t move away. His presence is leeching at Neji’s strength like an offer that won’t be withdrawn.
Neji’s mouth opens, then closes again. He won’t let himself be fooled that easily. Nothing matters here; nothing until he sees her.
“But she will wake up soon,” Kabuto’s voice pours into his ear, straight to the heart of Neji’s fears and hopes.
“Just tell me how she is,” Neji whispers, quickly.
His eyelids contract under the blindfold as his brain catches up with his mouth.
With his tone.
He has just begged Yakushi Kabuto. He has just handed himself over to him, more surely than if he had closed his enemy’s fingers around a kunai, and guided the hand to his jugular. Yakushi Kabuto is not a man who will misunderstand Neji’s words; if even he hadn’t understood everything there was to understand before.
“I can do better than that,” Kabuto says; in the tone of voice that is normal to him, mild, and honey-like as it slides languidly around Neji, like a nest or a snake before its coils tighten. “I can show you.”
The hair on the back of Neji’s neck stand on end. Something in Kabuto’s tone...
“What,” he says.
His voice comes out oddly hoarse, as if he’d been screaming for hours.
He feels Kabuto’s breeze-like caress of a chuckle against his neck.
“I gave her things you can’t even imagine...”
Kabuto fits his words like he would fit his hand, knowingly, snuggly, neatly, before tightening his hold on Neji’s windpipe when the low-spoken, meaningfully casual words reach Neji’s ears.
When Kabuto’s lips close on his throat, Neji can’t repress the dry sob.
30. Stupid
Hyuuga watch but don’t see. Hiashi dreams of a brother and a son and forgets to wake up to his nephew and his two daughters. Hanabi is longingly looking at the ordinary children going to the Academy. Naruto’s eyes are fixed onto the future and Sasuke’s back, and Sakura is by his side. Kakashi keeps his sharingan under wraps and only uses it to defend his team. Konoha scrunches its eyelids shut.
No-one looks at Hinata and Neji when they’re sparring, or standing apart from the whole length of the Hyuuga reception room.
No-one would even see them if they kissed in front of the Hokage Tower.
No-one reacts when once, when the whole gang is out drinking, Hinata removes Neji’s hitai-ite under the muttered excuse that the knot is getting undone, and her fingertips trace the mark on his forehead.
No-one notices how Neji shivers.
Author: runespoor7
Rating: NC-17
Summary: eigth set of smutty drabbles.
Notes: 27. New and 28. Vision are both Celebrationverse, and 29. Laughter is the big return of the CreepyTP. Or, well, in this case...
ETA: I've just realised that I didn't include the link to my inspiration for 30. Stupid. Here it is, one of hiasobi's themes 26. The way things are. I'm really, really sorry for forgetting to add it in my original A/N.
26. Power
Hinata loves running the tip of her tongue on the underside of Neji’s cock, like it’s a lifeline drumming in echo to the pulse between her legs.
She likes taking her time tasting him; she’s never in a hurry when she feels his muscles quiver under her palms, resting on his thighs or against his hips. He keeps his body taut as he tries not to move. His panting echoes heavily in her ears; his hands clench and unclench at his side, grasping at the sheet under his hands if they’re on a bed, more often clutching thin air as his knuckles rap against the wall.
The trembling in Neji’s body grows more intense as Hinata deposits a butterfly-light kiss on the fold of his groin, stroking the skin stretched on his hipbones with her thumb. Neji shifts against her, jutting his member out; Hinata smiles against his skin, but she moves her mouth back to his cock.
She doesn’t dislike teasing him, but it’s not an end in itself. Hinata likes the whole process of giving a blowjob more.
A muffled keening sound escape from Neji’s throat when she affixes her lips to the head of his cock, smearing her lips in precome before sealing them on him, drinking him as he flows. She lets his taste spread on her tongue, the sharp saltiness that is all Neji’s, glancing up at him. He must be biting on his lips from the inside, a white, thin straight line, his eyes wide and hazy with lust as he looks down at her.
Without taking her eyes away, she applies her tongue against his slit - not doing anything more yet; merely letting him feel it. Neji’s eyes widen further.
Hinata loves it when she starts taking him in, slowly, and Neji jolts, when a cry is torn from his mouth, his hips give a brusque start - as if he only stopped his body before it thrust itself entirely into her mouth - and his hands tangle in her hair, fall on her head but stay still as if they weren’t sure whether they should apply pressure or not.
Neji can’t conceal the tension strumming in his body and it’s like he doesn’t dare to demand anything from her, as if he was afraid Hinata would just stop if he tried to push.
The fingers twitching in her hair send tingles down her spine as she lowers her mouth around his cock, slick lips taking in inch after torturous inch.
Neji’s left hand has moved to her shoulder and is now crushing her collarbone in an attempt to avoid taking the back of her head and just slamming forward. The pain shoots through Hinata’s arm and back, but somehow it only emphasizes her arousal, and the texture and feel of Neji, his weight in her mouth.
She works to loosen the muscles at the back of her throat in preparation, breathing as steadily as she can through her nose. He’s still only halfway in her.
Drops of sweat trickle down his stomach, testament to the efforts he’s making to stay still; Hinata’s hands are sticky and slippery with it, she has to draw her fingernails to keep her support.
His other hand fumble at the back of her head, digging into her neck while Hinata hums in concentration around his shaft.
It’s only when Hinata has her whole mouth around him, her tongue pressing and swirling around him at the best of what she can reach that she starts sucking.
Neji’s head thumps against the wall as his back arches and his control finally gives.
Hinata’s throat constricts around him, suddenly raw, and she swallows greedily the bitter fluid shooting down her throat as Neji comes with a shout.
What Hinata loves the best when she goes down on him, though, is that Neji always calls her name.
27. New
Just because something was impossible didn't mean it wouldn't happen.
That was the first lesson he learnt, when he was fumbling into her clothes - and a voice at the back of his mind was wondering, what are you doing? - and marvelling at the skin he found, smooth, so smooth, as smooth and soft and perfect as he remembered it from when he'd pulled her sleeve up during their prelim match.
He'd put his hand firmly on her arm, a little awed even then at the girl skin, he remembered thinking, but the thought had immediately been driven away by the correction, Main House skin. Smooth and soft and unfit for a ninja.
At the time he'd wanted to bruise it.
He wanted to feel it, all of it, putting the flat of his hands on her breasts, how round and warm; his heart was pounding in his chest as his hands stroked and slid further down.
By all laws, he should have been punished then; and he was waiting for instant retribution, in the form of lightning smiting him or his curse seal flaring to life and pain, he wasn't sure. It was definitely an act worthy of punishment. He was undressing the Hyuuga heir, after all. With impure intent. (If someone came by he was so screwed. Not in the way he was rooting for.)
He didn't withdraw.
It was an act worthy of punishment.
He had his heart in his suddenly very dry throat. He was touching breasts and he was not getting disciplined for it and those were Hinata breasts and oh god.
Pushing the top out of the way with impatient hands, he lowered his head and nuzzled.
The small part of him that was hopelessly pessimistic hadn't managed to suspend its disbelief and was even now counting the ways he was going to die, and then burn in hell, for that violation, while trying to turn his attention away from Hinata's heartbeat - he could feel Hinata's heart beating, right there under his ear, like a bird fluttering in her ribcage, how mad was that - and to the door, where someone was bound to appear.
Probably her father, with Neji's track record.
Amazingly, the door didn't open.
Hinata emitted a weird sound and logically Neji should have been planning a hasty retreat, or at any rate some shameless begging that he was going to be good promise, if she could just tell him how to do it which, again, logically made little sense because since when had Hinata been known for telling others what to do, but on the other hand she had been the one doing the initial and un-forewarned for kissing and pushing back into the hospital bed and straddling and tugging at articles of clothing, which in Neji's case mostly meant a shapeless hospital gown, and oh god, that did it, he was delirious after his near-death encounter of the spidery kind, delirious and hospital-stuck and drug-filled and sadly, sadly lacking a cousin in his bed.
Then Hinata just kind of pushed her breasts into his face and under his mouth, and her nails scrapped his shoulders, and Neji decided that if he was drugged it was definitely on the good stuff - which was slightly surprising, because he was pretty sure they'd been reducing his painkillers for several days, as he'd been hurting like a bitch and consequently considerably cranky.
Right now, the crankiness had vanished like snow in spring, and the prickly-burning sensation left by her nails didn't quite rank on the ow-ow-owie scale that had been his life for the biggest part of the past weeks.
So, without worrying about anything anymore, Neji obligingly gave in and started sucking on the nipples that were so endearingly making themselves known.
His mouth might have been watering by that point.
28. Vision
The first time he and Hinata do anything after the jutsu that burned his Byakugan off, Neji already knows he will never regain his eyesight.
Tsunade explained how the blood in his eyes vessel was heated until it ran white, a variation of a medical jutsu used in some cases of recurrent headaches; here, twisted almost beyond recognition.
Neji isn't really surprised that Tsunade-sama identified more than a touch of Orochimaru's inspiration.
He's not surprised, but it's just his luck to be nailed by a formerly unknown kinjutsu. He takes it in stride, though, figuring that of course a doujutsu user would be permanently blinded. That's in keeping with his luck so far.
What is truly ironic is that, had his Byakugan be inactive, he would still be able to use it.
Tsunade sounds even less happy when she tells him that, and Neji knows in that moment that she didn't want to let him know, but she says that his clan head willed it so.
Neji nods and Tsunade leaves with a sigh.
The door squeaks open; Tsunade's steps, recognisable by the clatter of her high-heeled sandals, pause. Then a soft patter enters the hospital room and the door closes. The sound of the Hokage walking away echoes distantly in the corridor.
He turns to face Hinata. He knows it's her.
He wants to greet her, thank her for not hiding anything from him, but he doesn't manage to.
He doesn't see her expression as she walks closer to the bed. Even if he cannot, he can easily perceive the sadness in her steps. She's always been quiet, when walking through the Hyuuga compound, especially compared to her father's self-assured, proud walk.
It used to annoy Hiashi, Neji knows, when the three of them found themselves walking in the same corridor at the same time, and Hinata's steps were those that rang the least, almost entirely muffled. He always thought it sounded as if Hinata was leading, softly, clearly, immediately before Neji and her father. The echo of her steps was drowned by their more martial stride. Or amplified.
He doesn't need to see her to know she is here, know how she feels.
And her steps are coming closer.
He's the one reaching out when she stops next to the bed. He can't see her, he doesn't care to hear her; he doesn't want to think about the future or the past; that there are no blind Hyuuga and how Hinata looks when she smiles.
He doesn't see her as he takes her clothes off, as she sends her arms around his neck to force him downwards, as she bites her lips to keep the sounds in. He isn't aware of anything but her body, like the only freedom he has ever known.
His palms run up and down her sides, taking their time; he follows the curve of her jaw with his lips, down her neck and the hollow of her throat, the warm globes of her breasts; he rubs his thumbs against her wrist before kissing it softly, the bone then the tender inner skin, and each of her knuckles and the tips of her fingers, memorising how they tremble softly against his lips.
He tucks his hands beneath her waist, the flare of her hips fitting perfectly in his hands, and he lifts them slightly. The muscles shift as he manoeuvres her, contract suddenly when his hands linger on her buttocks before sliding smoothly to the back of her knees.
Then he carefully changes how his hands are set, so he can raise her legs by folding them at the knee, and he spreads them open when they're high enough, gauging mentally against his memories. He thoughtfully lowers his head to kiss her breast, testing how he should fit their hips; how the inside of her thighs feels on each side of him.
He feels more than hears the catch in her chest as he kisses her again slowly, minutely lower than the first time. She thinks he's about to take her.
For now he's content mapping her body. He has one more verification to make before taking the final step.
His fingers are splayed on the outsides of her thighs, his thumbs resting against the inner side of her knees. The skin there is soft; he moves his thumbs upwards - a few millimetres, not even that, not even enough for a kunai to miss by a hair. So far he's kept his touch light; merely firm enough to position her.
She jerks when he presses his thumbs down on this precise point, her back arching and all of her muscles tensing, her breath coming short and frightened-sounding; wet and needy. Neji finds he can imagine her parted lips and her wide eyes perfectly; she shifts under him, bringing her wetness against his erection.
For the first time since they began, Neji can feel himself smiling.
29. Laughter
“Shouldn’t you be more worried about yourself? After all, she has survived one year so far. There is no guarantee you will be so lucky.”
Kabuto’s voice curls like a light, thick scarf around Neji’s throat. The older man isn’t touching him, but Neji feels his presence hovering behind his back, too close for comfort.
“Let me see her,” he says through gritted teeth. The manacles around his wrists are restraining his chakra, and the blindfold negates his Byakugan, and his demand is actually a plea. “Let me see Hinata-sama.”
He feels Orochimaru’s second-in-command lean until his hand is resting on Neji’s left shoulder, and his breath brushes against the right side of Neji’s neck. “She isn’t in a state to receive any visit for now, but if you’d like...”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, letting the unsaid words dissipate like smoke and clouds Neji can interpret any way he wishes according to his fancy.
Kabuto doesn’t move away. His presence is leeching at Neji’s strength like an offer that won’t be withdrawn.
Neji’s mouth opens, then closes again. He won’t let himself be fooled that easily. Nothing matters here; nothing until he sees her.
“But she will wake up soon,” Kabuto’s voice pours into his ear, straight to the heart of Neji’s fears and hopes.
“Just tell me how she is,” Neji whispers, quickly.
His eyelids contract under the blindfold as his brain catches up with his mouth.
With his tone.
He has just begged Yakushi Kabuto. He has just handed himself over to him, more surely than if he had closed his enemy’s fingers around a kunai, and guided the hand to his jugular. Yakushi Kabuto is not a man who will misunderstand Neji’s words; if even he hadn’t understood everything there was to understand before.
“I can do better than that,” Kabuto says; in the tone of voice that is normal to him, mild, and honey-like as it slides languidly around Neji, like a nest or a snake before its coils tighten. “I can show you.”
The hair on the back of Neji’s neck stand on end. Something in Kabuto’s tone...
“What,” he says.
His voice comes out oddly hoarse, as if he’d been screaming for hours.
He feels Kabuto’s breeze-like caress of a chuckle against his neck.
“I gave her things you can’t even imagine...”
Kabuto fits his words like he would fit his hand, knowingly, snuggly, neatly, before tightening his hold on Neji’s windpipe when the low-spoken, meaningfully casual words reach Neji’s ears.
When Kabuto’s lips close on his throat, Neji can’t repress the dry sob.
30. Stupid
Hyuuga watch but don’t see. Hiashi dreams of a brother and a son and forgets to wake up to his nephew and his two daughters. Hanabi is longingly looking at the ordinary children going to the Academy. Naruto’s eyes are fixed onto the future and Sasuke’s back, and Sakura is by his side. Kakashi keeps his sharingan under wraps and only uses it to defend his team. Konoha scrunches its eyelids shut.
No-one looks at Hinata and Neji when they’re sparring, or standing apart from the whole length of the Hyuuga reception room.
No-one would even see them if they kissed in front of the Hokage Tower.
No-one reacts when once, when the whole gang is out drinking, Hinata removes Neji’s hitai-ite under the muttered excuse that the knot is getting undone, and her fingertips trace the mark on his forehead.
No-one notices how Neji shivers.