simple

fair boy your eyes haunt me



"Oi, Shikamaru. Grab me a cup of coffee while you're up, will you?" Shino's tone is lazy, and just whiny enough, the exact tone of voice that will get Shikamaru to do just about anything while still allowing Shino to maintain his dignity.

Shino does not whine. But sometimes, couches are comfortable enough to sacrifice just about anything.

He holds his cup over his head as Shikamaru walks by from the bathroom. Shimamaru, in turn, directs a raspberry at the top of his head as he snatches the cup away.

"Lazy bastard," Shikamaru mutters, good naturedly.

"Fuck you, too."

Shikamaru snorts and shakes his head, a few strands of wet hair slipping from his topknot to hang over his eyes. "Only cos you'd have to get your own damn coffee yourself without me around," he retorts, but he's smiling as he pads across the peach carpet to the kitchen, big fuzzy fox heads nodding atop his slippers with every step he takes.

A few minutes later he returns, bearing two cups and a small plate of sugar cookies. Shino grins appreciatively at the food and moves to make room for Shikamaru on the hideous purple love seat that takes up a good part of their 'living room' (a long cry from livable is his notorious comment on that, though Shikamaru is rather fond of the small space), hands outstretched and waiting for the blessed warmth of fresh coffee.

Shikamaru passes it to him, and sets the cookies on the battered plasterboard coffee table. Then he slouches down on the floor beside Shino. For one, the couch is uglier than Naruto's sandaime henge, and he also feels rectified in some small way for his unplanned efforts, because he's feeling just a little bit childish and he enjoys picking on his lover when he has the motivation.

"Thank you." Shino takes a sip and smiles down at Shikamaru, unfazed by his entirely transparent attempt at being petty. Life with Shikamaru had taught him many things, the least of them being how to deal with the Nara boy's little personality quirks.

Shikamaru raises an eyebrow. "Oh, don't you worry. I spit in it."

Like a buddha, Shino smiles and shrugs. "Nothing new to me."

"I peed in it, too."

"Thought it was a little more acidic than the usual."

Thin lips turn up into a wicked grin, showing a glint of white teeth. "That was because I jacked off into it."

Shino pauses a moment, then takes another swig. "Thought it was a little salty, too. But like I said before, nothing --"

"You're absolutely fucking incorrigable."

"And you're not very original. But I love you anyway."

Shikamaru nods against Shino's thigh, his attention turning up to stare into the other's eyes. Shino's eyes have always been a fascination to him: without the glasses, the entire surface is glossy and completely dark. "As well you should."

He smirks and remembers the first time they had really talked, on a covert mission to the water country, Shikamaru's first time leading a mission since the disaster with Sasuke and the sound nins, since he'd lost Chouji. Shikamaru had been nervous as hell and trying hard to hide it by complaining over and over again about the lack of funds. Shino, in turn, had dragged the other boy to a high-class restaurant and less-than-tactfully ordered him to shut the hell up and forget everything (except for the really important stuff) and just have dinner. Shikamaru had grudgingly obliged.

It still cracks him up to recall Shino's big solution, how at the end of their meal Shino had closed his eyes and opened his hand and pulled a free meal for the both of them. The entire staff had been deeply shocked and highly apologetic over the sudden appearance of the dark insects crawling across both their plates. (Since then, he'd never really been worried about Shino's bugs: sure they were there, they were ticklish against his skin, but they really did have their uses.)

They'd left the restaurant supressing laughter that threatened to break the whole thing open, Shikamaru absolutely incredulous over Shino's tactics, and Shino over Shikamaru's expression. When they'd returned to their inn, however, Shikamaru had bitched at Shino for over an hour about what an incredibly fucking stupid stunt he'd just pulled and how if anyone had known of the Aburame clan's skill he could have completely blown their cover and cost them their lives. Shino had just shrugged and said that he'd have a better chance of surviving Shikamaru's mouth with his plan. Sir.

Then Shikamaru had proceeded to ream Shino over respecting his superiors, which hadn't gone as well as he'd intended; he'd been having a hard time keeping a straight face after a few minutes and the entire thing had just kind of gone downhill from there.

Shikamaru had come to the next morning in Shino's bed, the other watching him thoughtfully. He'd had the audacity to remind Shikamaru that this too would be helpful in cutting down on spending, as he'd noticed that they really only needed one room.

It has been years since that day, but the memory still makes Shikamaru smile. Things aren't quite so bothersome as long as he has Shino close to keep him company. That, and the big oaf is nice and warm, bugs or no.

During his recollections, Shino has laid his big callused hand atop Shikamaru's head and returned to gazing out the window of their tiny apartment. He too remembers, but for him it's different, just another one of the things that happens in life. No blinding fireworks, sure, but he's a simple man, and he enjoys the siplicity of shadows and heat and quiet understanding. Shikamaru is as much a part of him as he is, as much a part of him as the bugs he sustains. And he is content.

It's kind of hard to say anything really meaningful after that sort of recollection, Shikamaru realizes. But he understands that there really isn't anything meaningful that needs to be said. So instead of speaking, he pulls Shino's hand away from his head and just holds it, large and callused and so wonderfully strange against his own dark skin.

"Oi, Shino," he mutters, and slides on to their purple beastly love seat, eyes dark and shining and full of a mischief that seems to strike at all the right times.

"Mm?" Shino's eyes widen as one of Shikamaru's hands begins to wander. "Oh."

The other simply smiles, because Shino also understands.

-fin
12.4. 2003