Chapter Text
Naruto's Pov:
Shikamaru was staring at me from afar. Or maybe he wasn't staring, maybe he was just looking in my direction. With him, it was always hard to tell. His expression barely changed, that same lazy, half-lidded look he always wore, like everything in the world was a little too troublesome to care about. Still, something about the way he stood there made it feel like his attention was on me.
He looked hot. He was always hot. Effortlessly, annoyingly hot.
My eyes drifted over him before I could stop myself. The green vest hung loosely on his shoulders like it always did, hiding most of what I actually wanted to see. Underneath it, I knew there was that black net top, stretched across his chest and arms.
I caught myself imagining what it would look like if the vest wasn't there, just the mesh against his skin, the outline of his shoulders, the shape of his torso visible through it. I'd give a lot to see that properly.
And his hair.
It was tied up like always, that messy spiky ponytail that somehow looked both careless and perfect at the same time. But I knew what it looked like when it wasn't tied back.
I'd seen it once before, falling freely down his shoulders. Dark strands framing his face, softer than you'd expect from someone like him. It made his sharp features stand out even more: His jawline, his eyes, that calm, intelligent look he always had.
Honestly, I'd give a lot to see it like that again.
Loose. Falling over his shoulders. Framing his perfect face while he looked at me with that quiet, unreadable expression, like he already knew every thought running through my head.
Shikamaru shifted his weight slightly, hands buried in his pockets like he didn't have a single care in the world. Then someone walked up to him.
Of course it was Ino.
She stopped right in front of him like she owned the space, her long blonde hair swaying behind her as she started talking. I couldn't hear what she was saying from where I stood, but judging by the way her hands moved, she was definitely complaining about something. Typical.
Shikamaru sighed. I could see it even from here, the slow tilt of his head back, the way his shoulders dropped like the conversation was already exhausting him.
"Troublesome," I could almost hear him say.
And still, he stayed.
He leaned down a little to hear her better, his ponytail shifting with the movement. The sun caught on the dark strands, and for a second I imagined what it would look like if that stupid hair tie just snapped and his hair spilled loose over his shoulders.
My jaw tightened before I even realized it.
Ino laughed at something she said, tossing her hair back dramatically. She reached out and poked his arm while talking, like she always did. Too comfortable, too casual.
Shikamaru didn't move away. He just glanced down at where she touched him, then looked back at her with that same bored expression.
But there was a tiny smirk there. A small one. Barely noticeable.
I crossed my arms without thinking.
Why was she standing so close to him?
There was plenty of space in the street, but somehow she was right there, practically in his personal space like it was the most normal thing in the world. Meanwhile I was stuck over here watching like some kind of idiot.
Shikamaru said something back to her then. I couldn't hear the words, but his voice looked calm, slow, like it always was. Ino leaned in slightly while he talked, actually listening.
She smiled again.
My eyes narrowed.
Of course she was smiling. Why wouldn't she be? Shikamaru was standing right there looking like that, all tall and relaxed with his vest half open and his sleeves pushed up just enough to show the mesh underneath.
I shifted my weight on my feet.
He ran a hand through the back of his head, scratching it lazily while Ino kept talking. For a second his hair tugged against the tie, a few strands falling loose around his face.
I stared.
Just untie it already.
Ino laughed again, louder this time. She leaned closer to him, closer than before, and said something that made Shikamaru roll his eyes.
But he didn't step away.
Something in my chest twisted.
I looked away for a second, staring down at the dirt under my sandals. This was stupid. It wasn't like anything was happening. They were just talking.
My eyes drifted back to them.
Shikamaru had his head tilted slightly while Ino spoke, listening in that quiet way he did. His expression was calm, thoughtful, like he was actually paying attention to her.
And I hated how much I noticed that.
I was just about to turn away when Ino suddenly looked past Shikamaru. Right at me. Her eyes lit up immediately.
"Oh! Naruto!," she called, waving her arm high in the air like she was trying to flag someone down across the entire street.
I blinked.
Welp. So much for sneaking away.
Still, a grin spread across my face almost instantly as I lifted a hand back. "Yo!"
Shikamaru turned his head at the sound of my name. His eyes landed on me right away, calm and half-lidded like always. For a second he just looked at me, quiet and unreadable, like he'd already known I was there the whole time.
Which, knowing him, he probably had.
Ino cupped her hands around her mouth. "Don't just stand there! Come here!"
"Alright, alright!," I laughed, jogging over.
The closer I got, the more I noticed the usual stuff about Shikamaru that always made my brain go a little weird. His vest hung loosely like it always did, slightly open at the front. The black mesh shirt underneath stretched across his chest and arms, the pattern clear against his skin.
Man, he really did make that stupid net shirt look hot.
His ponytail swayed a little as he shifted his weight, hands stuffed in his pockets like he had nowhere better to be.
I stopped beside them, grinning.
"So what's up?"
Ino crossed her arms, looking proud of herself already. "I was just about to invite you to something."
"Ooh, an invitation?," I perked up instantly. "Sounds serious."
Shikamaru let out a quiet sigh beside her, like he already knew where this was going and didn't have the energy to stop it.
Ino flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically. "Sakura and I are throwing a party tonight."
My eyes widened. I've never been to a party before.
"A party?!"
"Yep," she said proudly. "My parents are away on a trip for a few days, so the house is empty. Sakura said we should actually have some fun for once instead of just training all the time."
She leaned forward a little, clearly excited.
"So we're inviting people over. Nothing huge, just friends. Food, music and a few drinks."
"That sounds awesome! I'm in!," I said immediately.
Ino smirked like she expected that answer.
Then she nudged Shikamaru's arm with her elbow.
"And Shikamaru's coming too."
I looked over at him right away.
Shikamaru scratched the back of his head lazily, his ponytail shifting with the movement.
"Ino," he said slowly, "I never agreed to-"
"You're coming," she cut in.
He stared at her for a second like he was calculating how much effort arguing would take.
Then he sighed.
"Troublesome."
Ino grinned in victory. "See? That means yes."
I laughed.
"C'mon, Shikamaru! Parties aren't that troublesome," I said, nudging his shoulder lightly. "You can just sit around and complain the whole time. That's basically your favorite hobby."
He gave me a sideways look.
"Watching you cause problems all night sounds exhausting."
"Hey!," I protested, still grinning.
Ino pointed at both of us. "Anyway! It starts around seven. Don't be late."
Then she added with a warning look, "And don't show up empty-handed."
I saluted dramatically. "Got it! I'll bring something."
Shikamaru groaned quietly.
"Now we have to bring things too," he muttered.
I glanced over at him again, my grin still there.
A party. With everyone there.
And Shikamaru.
Yeah.
Tonight was definitely gonna be interesting.
Ino spun around and headed off down the path, her long blonde ponytail swaying behind her. Within a few seconds she was already waving to someone else across the street
And just like that, she was gone.
Silence settled for a moment.
I kept staring in the direction she left, my grin slowly fading.
Party. Tonight. At Ino's house.
My brain finally caught up with what had just happened.
"Oh."
Shikamaru shifted beside me, already turning to leave like the conversation was finished.
"Seven," he muttered lazily. "Troublesome."
"WAIT. SHIKAMARU."
I grabbed his sleeve before he could take more than one step.
Shikamaru stopped and looked down at my hand gripping the fabric of his vest. Then his eyes slowly moved up to my face.
"Naruto."
"Shikamaru," I said quickly.
He raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
I leaned a little closer, lowering my voice like this was a serious emergency.
"I've never been to a party."
He blinked once.
"You're kidding."
"I'm serious!," I said, throwing my hands up. "What am I supposed to bring?!"
Shikamaru stared at me like I had just asked him to solve world peace.
"Naruto," he said slowly, "people usually bring food. Or drinks."
"Okay but what kind?!," I panicked. "What if I bring the wrong thing? What if everyone else brings something cool and I show up with like ramen cups or something?!"
He sighed.
A long, tired sigh that sounded like his soul had just left his body.
"This is exactly why parties are troublesome."
I stepped in front of him before he could escape.
"Shikamaru, please," I said, clasping my hands together dramatically. "You gotta help me."
He looked deeply unimpressed.
"Why me?"
"Because you're smart!," I said immediately. "You always know what to do at these kinds of things."
"I don't go to these kinds of things."
"Yeah but if anyone would know what to bring, it'd be you!"
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly regretting not walking away faster.
"I was planning to bring chips and a bottle of Vodka," he muttered. "Chips? Vodka?!," I repeated.
"Yes. Chips and Vodka."
"That's it?!"
"That's normal."
I stared at him for a second, processing this.
"Oh."
Shikamaru started walking again. "I'm going home." I hurried after him.
"Wait wait wait, hold on!"
He glanced at me sideways as I caught up.
"Now what?"
"You're still helping me," I insisted.
"With what?"
"With the party!"
He groaned quietly.
"Naruto."
"You can't just abandon me like this!," I said dramatically. "What if I embarrass myself?!"
Shikamaru gave me a flat look.
"You do that daily."
"HEY."
But I kept walking beside him anyway.
"C'mon," I said, bumping his shoulder lightly. "At least help me pick something out."
He sighed again.
"Troublesome."
But he didn't tell me to go away.
A few hours later, I was standing in the middle of my room, staring at myself in the mirror.
The sun had already started going down outside, the orange light slipping through the window and stretching across the messy floor of my apartment.
Clothes were scattered everywhere from when I'd spent the last twenty minutes digging through my closet.
I tugged at the hem of my shirt again.
Old bluish baggy jeans hung loosely on my hips, worn and soft from years of use. The shirt was bordeaux red and way too big for me, the sleeves falling halfway down my arms and the collar slipping slightly off one shoulder.
Honestly?
It looked kinda good.
Which was weird.
Because I absolutely hadn't picked this outfit myself.
I leaned closer to the mirror, squinting a little as I adjusted the dark line around my eyes. The eyeliner was slightly smudged on purpose, with kajal along the lower lash line that made my eyes look darker, sharper.
I tilted my head left. Then right.
"Huh."
Not bad.
Definitely not my usual look though.
Shikamaru had picked it.
Earlier that afternoon we'd stopped by a small store after I practically begged him to help me prepare for the party.
He'd taken one look at what I was wearing at the time: My usual bright orange stuff, and immediately pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Naruto," he'd said, sounding exhausted already, "you"re not wearing that."
"What's wrong with it?!"
"It's loud."
"That's the point!"
"It's a party, not a construction warning sign."
I snorted a little at the memory.
In the end, he'd told me exactly what to wear. The baggy jeans. The oversized red shirt he'd bought me a while ago.
"Something simple," he'd said, glancing at me lazily. "You look better when you don't try so hard."
I'd pretended that comment didn't make my ears burn.
Then there was the wine.
I looked over at the small table beside my bed where the bottle sat next to a bag of snacks.
A bottle of wine. I still couldn't believe I was bringing wine to a party. Shikamaru had picked that too.
Actually, he'd picked everything.
Because when we got to the counter and I checked my wallet, I realized I had basically no money left for this month.
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face in the memory.
"Uh... Shikamaru?" He'd glanced over. "What?"
"I might have a small problem."
"You always have problems."
"I've no money left."
There had been a long pause.
Then Shikamaru sighed in the most tired way possible and pulled out his wallet.
"Unbelievable."
"I'll pay you back!" I'd promised immediately.
"You won't."
"HEY!"
But he'd paid anyway.
Wine. Snacks. Done.
I smiled faintly at the memory, rubbing the back of my neck.
Shikamaru always acted like everything was a huge inconvenience but he still helped.
Every time.
My gaze drifted back to the mirror.
The eyeliner. The kajal.
That had been my idea though.
I leaned a little closer, studying my reflection again.
"Too much?," I muttered to myself.
Maybe. Or maybe not.
A slow breath left me as my thoughts drifted again.
To him.
To the way he always looked so calm. So relaxed. Like nothing in the world could really shake him. The way his vest hung open just enough to show the mesh shirt underneath. The way his ponytail swayed when he walked.
And the way I kept noticing things like that.
My fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the table.
I'd been trying not to think about it too much.
But it was kinda hard to ignore.
Because every time he looked at me with those half-lidded eyes, it made something weird twist in my chest.
Not bad.
Just intense.
Confusing.
I grabbed the bottle of wine, turning it slowly in my hands.
Tonight he'd be there. At the party.
Probably standing somewhere quiet, complaining about how troublesome everything was.
A small grin tugged at my lips.
"Yeah," I muttered.
By the time I reached Ino's house, the sky had turned deep blue, the last bit of sunlight fading behind the rooftops of the village.
I stood outside the gate for a second, staring at the house.
Music was already playing inside. Not super loud, but loud enough that I could hear the bass through the open windows.
Warm yellow light spilled out onto the street, and voices drifted outside with it, people laughing, talking, moving around.
So the party had definitely started.
I shifted the bottle of wine in one hand and the bag of snacks in the other.
"Alright," I muttered to myself. "You got this."
Then I pushed the gate open and walked in.
The moment I stepped through the door, the noise hit me properly. The living room was already pretty full. A bunch of people from our class were there, some sitting on the couch, others leaning against the walls, a few standing around the table where drinks and snacks were piled up.
Someone had dimmed the lights a little, and music was playing from speakers near the window.
For a second I just stood there, taking it all in.
Okay.
This was definitely a party.
"Naruto!"
I turned just in time to see Ino pushing through the crowd toward me.
She grabbed my arm immediately, grinning. "You made it!"
"Of course I did!," I said, lifting the bottle slightly. "And I brought stuff, like you said."
Her eyes dropped to the wine and snacks.
"Ooooh, look at you!," she teased, taking the bag from my hand. "Very classy."
"Right?," I said proudly.
She placed the snacks on the table and took the bottle from me, inspecting it.
"Wine too? I'm impressed."
I scratched the back of my neck. "Yeah well... I had help."
"Obviously," she laughed.
Then she leaned closer, lowering her voice slightly.
"You look pretty nice tonight, Naruto."
My ears warmed a little.
"Uh- thanks."
Her eyes flicked to my face. "Oh my god," she added, suddenly delighted. "Are you wearing eyeliner?"
"Maybe," I said defensively.
"It actually looks hot," she said with a smirk. "Very bold."
Before I could respond, someone called her name from across the room.
"Ino! Sakura needs you!"
"Coming!," she yelled back.
Then she pointed at me quickly. "Make yourself comfortable!"
And just like that, she disappeared back into the crowd.
I exhaled slowly. Okay. Now I was just here.
My eyes wandered across the room, scanning the people around me.
Choji was already at the snack table. Kiba and Shino were arguing about something near the window. Sakura was talking to a group of people near the kitchen.
Then my gaze landed on him.
And I immediately forgot how to breathe for a second.
Shikamaru was leaning against the wall near the far side of the room.
Black baggy pants hung low on his hips, loose but somehow still making his long legs look even longer. His shirt, if it even counted as a shirt, was dark and fitted, the collar open enough to show part of his chest and the mesh underneath.
The sleeves were pushed up slightly, exposing his forearms.
His vest was gone tonight.
Which meant the mesh shirt was fully visible.
My brain stalled for a second.
Wow. He was hot.
His ponytail was a little messier than usual too, a few strands of dark hair falling loose around his face.
And he was already looking at me. Not casually glancing. Actually looking.
Those half-lidded eyes were fixed on me from across the room.
For a moment neither of us moved.
The music kept playing. People kept talking around us.
But it felt weirdly quiet between us.
His gaze slowly moved over me, from my face, down to the oversized red shirt, then to the baggy jeans.
Then back up again.
One eyebrow lifted slightly.
Like he was judging my outfit. Or maybe approving it. I couldn't tell.
My chest tightened a little.
"Hey," I said quietly when I finally walked closer.
Shikamaru straightened slightly from the wall.
"You actually listened," he said.
I blinked. "Huh?"
His eyes flicked down to my clothes again.
"The outfit."
"Oh." I grinned. "Yeah."
A small pause.
Then his gaze shifted to my face again. To my eyes.
"You added something," he said.
I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly a little self-conscious.
"Yeah. I thought it looked cool."
He stared at me for another second. Longer than necessary. Then he hummed quietly.
"Not bad."
For some reason, that tiny bit of approval made my heart kick a little harder.
The party had gotten louder over the past couple hours.
At some point the music had been turned up. People were talking over each other, someone had started dancing in the middle of the living room, and Choji had already gone through half the snack table.
And somewhere along the way, I'd had a few drinks.
Okay. Maybe more than a few.
The cool night air hit my face as I stepped out onto the balcony, leaning both hands on the railing with a long exhale.
"Whooaa..."
The village lights stretched out below, warm and blurry around the edges. My head felt pleasantly fuzzy, like everything was just a little softer than usual.
The balcony door slid open behind me.
"You disappeared."
I turned my head.
Sakura stepped outside, closing the door gently behind her so the music inside became more muffled. She walked over and leaned beside me on the railing.
"You okay?," she asked.
"Yeah," I said immediately, nodding maybe a little too enthusiastically. "I'm great."
She gave me a look. "You're drunk."
"I'm a little drunk," I corrected.
"A little?"
"Okay maybe a medium amount."
Sakura snorted softly.
For a moment we just stood there, looking out over the village.
Then my eyes drifted back toward the living room through the glass door.
And immediately landed on him.
Shikamaru was inside near the couch now, talking to Kiba and someone else. One arm rested lazily over the back of the couch while he listened, his posture relaxed like always.
The dim lights inside caught the lines of his face, the loose strands of hair around his temples.
My brain short-circuited again.
"He looks really hot tonight," I blurted.
Sakura slowly turned her head toward me.
"What?"
I pointed vaguely through the glass door. "Shikamaru."
She followed my gaze. "Oh."
A slow, knowing smile spread across her face.
"You're staring."
"I'm not staring," I said immediately.
"You are absolutely staring."
"I'm observing."
"That's the same thing."
I squinted slightly at the room again.
"He just-," I gestured vaguely. "Look at him!"
Sakura looked again.
Shikamaru shifted inside, leaning forward slightly while Kiba talked. His black shirt stretched across his shoulders, the mesh underneath clearly visible in the low light.
I sighed dramatically.
"He looks really hot tonight," I repeated.
Sakura laughed quietly.
"You already said that."
"Well it's true!"
She leaned her chin on her hand, watching me now instead of the party. "Naruto."
"Yeah?"
"You like him."
I blinked. Then blinked again. My brain tried to process that sentence.
"I- what?"
"You like Shikamaru," she repeated calmly.
I stared at her.
Then looked back through the glass door again.
Shikamaru was still there, half-listening to whatever Kiba was saying, one eyebrow slightly raised in that bored way he always had.
God.
"He looks really hot tonight," I said again, quieter this time.
Sakura burst out laughing.
"Oh my god."
"What?!"
"You're not even denying it!"
"I- I don't-"
I rubbed both hands over my face.
Okay.
Maybe the alcohol was making my brain a little loose.
"I think I might like him," I admitted finally.
Sakura made a small mmhmm sound like this confirmed everything she already suspected.
I groaned softly, resting my forehead against the railing.
"This is bad."
"Why is it bad?"
"Because it's Shikamaru!"
"And?"
"And he's-," I waved a hand helplessly. "Him!"
Sakura tilted her head.
"Calm? Smart? Annoyingly attractive?"
I pointed at her.
"Yes! That!"
She laughed again.
"And also," I added, glancing back through the door, "he looks ridiculously hot tonight."
"That's the fourth time you've said that."
"I know," I said miserably.
Inside, Shikamaru leaned back again, running a hand briefly through the back of his hair before letting his arm fall along the couch.
My stomach flipped.
"See?!," I whispered urgently, pointing again. "LOOK AT HIM."
Sakura shook her head, still smiling.
"You're down bad."
I groaned again.
"This is troublesome."
I was still leaning on the balcony railing, the cool air helping a little with the fuzzy feeling in my head.
Sakura had gone back inside a few minutes ago, leaving me alone with my thoughts, and unfortunately most of those thoughts were still about Shikamaru.
Which wasn't helping.
Through the glass door I could still see the living room. People were moving around more now, the music louder, someone laughing really hard at something near the couch.
Shikamaru was still there. Of course he was.
He had moved from the couch and was leaning against the wall now, one shoulder resting against it, arms loosely crossed. His black shirt clung to him just enough that the mesh underneath was obvious in the dim lighting.
God.
"He looks really hot tonight," I muttered to myself again.
The balcony door slid open.
"You talking to yourself out here, Naruto?"
I turned my head.
Kiba stepped out onto the balcony, the door sliding shut behind him. He stretched his arms over his head like he'd just escaped the noise inside.
"Needed air," he said.
"Yeah," I said with a small laugh. "Same."
He walked over and leaned on the railing beside me, a little closer than Sakura had been.
"You disappeared," he added.
"I'm still here."
"Barely."
I shrugged.
"Just thinking."
Kiba tilted his head slightly, studying my face.
"You've been drinking."
"A bit," I admitted.
He grinned.
"Figured."
For a moment we both just looked out over the village lights.
Then Kiba bumped his shoulder lightly into mine.
"You look different tonight."
I blinked.
"What?"
"Different," he repeated. "Good different."
His eyes moved over my face slowly.
"You did something with your eyes."
"Oh." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Eyeliner."
"Huh."
He leaned a little closer, squinting slightly like he was inspecting it.
"It suits you."
"Thanks," I said, laughing awkwardly.
Inside the house, movement caught my attention.
I glanced through the glass door again.
And immediately met Shikamaru's eyes.
He was looking straight at the balcony. At us.
My stomach flipped.
Kiba didn't seem to notice.
He shifted a little closer to me, resting one elbow on the railing behind my back.
"You know," he said casually, "you clean up pretty well."
I snorted. "You sound like Ino."
"Maybe she's right."
He nudged my arm again.
"You should dress like this more often."
I could still feel Shikamaru watching through the glass.
My gaze flicked between him and Kiba.
Kiba leaned a little closer.
Close enough that I could smell the faint scent of whatever drink he'd had earlier.
"You're kinda cute tonight," he added.
I laughed nervously.
"Kiba, you're drunk."
"Maybe."
His hand came up, brushing lightly against my arm.
I didn't pull away.
Mostly because my brain was still focused on the living room behind him.
Shikamaru hadn't looked away.
If anything, his expression had gone flatter. Kiba leaned even closer now.
"Seriously though," he murmured, his voice dropping slightly, "I might have to steal you away from the party."
My heart was beating weirdly fast now. Not because of Kiba. Because Shikamaru was still staring.
Kiba's hand slid lightly to my waist.
"You okay with that?," he asked.
"Uh."
My eyes flicked back to the glass door again.
Shikamaru had pushed himself off the wall.
He was moving toward the balcony. Fast.
Kiba leaned closer, his face only inches from mine now. "C'mon," he murmured. "Just one-"
The balcony door slammed open.
A hand suddenly grabbed the back of Kiba's shirt and yanked him backward.
"Oi."
Kiba stumbled a step as he was pulled away.
"Hey-!"
Shikamaru stood between us now, one hand still gripping Kiba's collar.
His expression was calm. Too calm.
"Kiba," he said flatly.
Kiba blinked at him. "What the hell, man?"
Shikamaru glanced briefly at me. Just for a second. Then back at Kiba.
"Hinata's looking for you."
Kiba frowned. "So?"
"So," Shikamaru said, already dragging him toward the door again, "you should go."
"Dude, I was in the middle of-"
"Troublesome."
And with that, Shikamaru pulled him back inside.
Leaving me alone on the balcony again.
My heart was beating way faster than it should have been.
The balcony door slid shut again.
The music inside swallowed the sound of voices almost immediately, leaving the balcony quiet except for the muffled bass from the speakers.
I stayed where I was, leaning against the railing, staring at the door. My heart was still beating way too fast.
"What just happened?," I muttered.
A few seconds passed. Then the door opened again. Shikamaru stepped back onto the balcony.
He closed the door behind him without looking at me, like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Shikamaru stepped over to the railing, pulling a cigarette from his pocket without a word. He didn't even glance at me, lighting it was as natural as breathing for him. The tip flared to life in the lighter's flame, smoke curling lazily into the night air.
I leaned against the railing beside him, eyes following the smoke. Honestly, I wasn't surprised. Of course he smoked. It fit him. Calm, indifferent, a little reckless in a way he pretended didn't matter.
I swallowed the sudden urge to reach over and touch the ash curling from the tip. Instead, I watched him casually inhale and exhale, the smoke drifting past his half-lidded eyes.
After a moment, I realized the cigarette pack was still in his hand.
"Can I try one?," I asked, trying to sound casual.
He finally turned his gaze toward me, calm and unreadable.
"You've never smoked," he stated, not asking, just stating.
"Yeah," I admitted. "Just once. For the experience."
He tilted his head slightly, as if weighing whether my request was worth the trouble.
"You're already drunk," he said quietly.
"Exactly," I said, nodding. "Perfect time."
A long pause. Then, finally:
"Troublesome," he muttered, tapping another cigarette out and holding it toward me.
I took it, awkwardly placing it between my lips.
"Now what?," I asked.
"Light it," he said lazily, holding the lighter near the tip.
I inhaled too hard on the first try, coughing violently, and he didn't move, didn't flinch, just watched me like it was completely expected.
"Idiot," he muttered.
I coughed again, grinning through the haze. "Not bad for a first try, right?"
He exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift into the cool night. "You're ridiculous."
I laughed softly, then leaned against the railing, watching the distant village lights. My brain kept drifting back to Shikamaru, to the way he had handled Kiba earlier. The calm way he'd pulled him away, like it was nothing, like it wasn't a big deal.
Shikamaru blew another thin stream of smoke out and glanced at me carefully, the way he always did when he was sizing something up.
"Hey," he started slowly. "Do you... like Kiba?"
The question caught me slightly off guard. Not because I hadn't thought about it before, but because he asked it so carefully, like he didn't want to push too hard.
I shook my head, smiling faintly. "No. Not like that."
He studied me for a second, letting the words sink in. His expression didn't change, but there was something in the tilt of his head, in the way he held the cigarette loosely between his fingers, that felt attentive.
"Thought so," he muttered finally. "Troublesome," he added, more to himself than to me.
I laughed softly. "You really worry about me, huh?"
He exhaled again, smoke drifting between us. "Sometimes."
And just like that, the air felt heavier, warmer, more electric than it had been before.
Shikamaru flicked the ash off his cigarette lazily, smoke drifting between us as he exhaled. His eyes slid over me slowly, sharp and calm, but there was something there, something I hadn't expected.
"You know," he began, his voice low, measured. "I lied."
I frowned slightly, confused.
"You don't just look 'cool' with the eyeliner," he said, leaning in just enough that his lips were close to my ear, his warm breath brushing against my skin. "You look hot as hell."
My stomach flipped. My chest felt like it had just been shoved into a vice.
He straightened up slightly, taking one deliberate step back while keeping his cigarette between his fingers. The smoke curled lazily around him, giving him that calm, untouchable look he always carried.
But I... I couldn't move. My cheeks were burning, my ears hot, my heart hammering like a drum in my chest.
"Shikamaru..." I whispered, barely able to form the words.
He didn't answer, just took another slow drag of his cigarette, blowing out a stream of smoke with that signature half-lidded gaze.
I could feel my own face heating up, turning a bright, embarrassing red. My hands fumbled at the railing like I wasn't even sure what to do with them.
"You... you really mean that?," I finally managed to croak, my voice sounding way too high and shaky even to me.
He hummed softly, that faint, lazy sound he always made when he was annoyed, or amused. "Don't act like you don't already know."
My chest tightened, my thoughts a jumbled mess. The alcohol made it worse, made my brain feel fuzzy, made every little movement from him, every slight tilt of his head, every curl of smoke, hit me like fire.
I stared at him, completely frozen, while he continued smoking like it was the most normal thing in the world and yet, somehow, he had just completely blown my mind.
I leaned against the railing, trying to play it cool, but my brain was running at full speed and my mouth, well, my mouth had other ideas.
"So-," I started, voice a little too loud, "you, uh... you always look... like that, huh?" I waved vaguely at him, trying to gesture at the lean, lazy way he held the cigarette, the way his shirt clung to his chest.
"Hot. I mean... uh... really hot. Not like... other people. You're... special hot."
Shikamaru's eyebrow lifted slightly. Calm, cool, judging me in that way that always made my stomach flip.
"I mean," I continued, stumbling over my words, "you smoke like a... uh... like a... badass. Yeah. And your hair... seriously, that ponytail? Dangerous hot. And..." I gestured at him vaguely again, feeling my face heat up, "the way you lean on things... makes me... want to lean on you? Or something."
I paused, realizing I sounded like an idiot.
Shikamaru's eyes narrowed just slightly, the cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers as he studied me.
"Naruto," he said finally, slow and measured, "are you trying to flirt with me, idiot?"
I froze.
"I- uh..."
"Because if you are," he added, tone flat but just the faintest edge of amusement in it, "it's extremely obvious."
My face went hotter. My hands fumbled at the railing. My brain short-circuited.
"Obvious?," I repeated, voice squeaky. "Nooo... I was just... talking casually! Yeah! Totally casual!"
Shikamaru smirked faintly, just a tilt of his lips, that signature half-lidded look that made my chest tighten.
"Troublesome," he muttered, taking another slow drag from his cigarette.
I swallowed hard, fumbling with the cigarette, heat climbing up my neck. "So you think I look... good tonight?," I tried again, hoping for some kind of reassurance.
"Better than usual," he said quietly, eyes flicking to mine, that calm, unreadable gaze holding me in place.
I blushed, nervous and dizzy. "See? I can be subtle!"
"Not subtle," he muttered, blowing out a stream of smoke.
Then, unexpectedly, he stepped closer. Just a small step, but enough that the space between us felt electric. The faint smell of smoke mixed with his natural scent hit me in a way that made my chest tighten.
"You know," he said quietly, voice softer now, "you're ridiculous when you try to flirt."
I blinked. "Me? Ridiculous?"
"Yeah," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "But I like it."
My heart skipped a beat. "Wait, what?"
He leaned in just a little closer, so our faces were near, smoke curling lazily around us.
"I like it when you're flustered," he whispered, low and teasing. "Makes you look even hotter."
I was completely caught off guard. "Shikamaru-" I breathed.
He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "You're way too easy to mess with, Naruto."
I opened my mouth to say something else, but he leaned in again, closer this time, just a whisper away. My hands gripped the railing, heart hammering so fast I thought it might burst.
"And you know," he murmured, brushing his fingers lightly over mine as if testing, "you look really good with that shirt on. And the eyeliner... don't think I didn't notice."
My chest felt like it was on fire. "Shika-," I whispered again.
He smirked faintly, the teasing glint in his eyes stronger now. "Yeah?"
And then, without another word, he closed the gap. Our lips met, softly at first, like a question. My hands went to his chest instinctively, while his free hand stayed steady on the railing, holding the cigarette loosely, smoke curling between us.
The kiss lingered, just long enough to make my head spin, my heart pounding like crazy.
When we finally pulled back just slightly, our foreheads rested together. He gave me that lazy, half-smirk again, the one that always made me lose my mind.
"Troublesome," he muttered softly, almost affectionately.
"Yeah," I whispered back, heat still rushing through me. "But worth it."
He chuckled, quiet and low. "I can agree with that."
And for a long moment, we just stayed there, balcony lights flickering softly, smoke curling lazily around us, the party fading into background noise.