Some men like the feel of silk and some men like the look of silk.
Disclaimer: belongs to Kishimoto, not me, the gods (and the fandom) rejoice
A/N: Written for 30_sex_scenes, this may or may not become part of a larger, interconnected series. I tried hard to make them as ic as possible but I'm pretty sure I wasn't successful. Huge apologies to anyone whose canon I raped. As always, comments/criticisms/suggestions etc are appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Hyuuga Neji liked Inuzuka Kiba, liked him a lot, enough to put up with the goofy attitude and the giant dog and the occasionally crude mannerisms. He particularly liked him when he was fresh out of the shower; hair mussed from the undoubtedly brutal scrubbing it had just received from the towel, clad only in a pair of skimpy, silky boxers.
He was occasionally visceral like that.
It made his heart beat a little faster, that sight, even when there were no overtly sexual undertones flowing through the room. He was pretty sure he could stare at a Kiba dressed only in silk boxers for hours, the hard muscle and tanned skin contrasting so beautifully with the softness and sheen of the silk.
They hadn't been dating long before a problem of sorts arose. Kiba had a tendency to run around without any underwear on, though truthfully it was not so much a tendency as it was an outright trend. Regardless, it'd had a horrible effect on Neji's ability to concentrate. He had spent hundreds of hours in meditation to achieve his current level of competency and he'd be damned if he let his partners inability to dress appropriately disrupt it. Kiba absolutely hated the feel of underwear, declared it too constricting and pretty much refused to wear any. Neji hoped that something out of the ordinary might convince Kiba to change his mind.
That something had been the first pair of silk boxer shorts.
Those boxers had changed more than Kiba's mind.
It had started out innocently enough. Kiba was a physical kind of man, he delighted in the sights and the scents and the texture of things. The feel of the silk as it slipped and slid over his body, sensuous and cool, was erotic. He quickly discovered that he enjoyed jacking himself off through the boxers; the sensation alone surpassed normal masturbation in so many ways.
One day Neji had caught him in the act, sprawled out bonelessly on the bed, hand working his cock through the material of his shorts. Neji had made a noise, something suspiciously un-Neji like, and he'd opened his eyes to see him standing motionless in the doorway, those pale eyes focused intently on the Kiba's hand.
Kiba was a bit of an exhibitionist and he did what any exhibitionist worth his salt would've done, he put on a tremendously titillating show.
It wasn't exactly a difficult thing for Kiba to pull off.
He'd felt Neji's weight settle on the bed as the aftershocks from his orgasm shuddered through his body. The boxers were peeled off before he'd had time to protest and then slick fingers were teasing his entrance, slipping inside to prepare him. What followed was one of the most intense sexual encounters he'd ever had. Neji fucked him like a man possessed and Kiba loved it, arching his back and begging for more.
He came again when Neji took his boxers and lightly ran the silky garment across his skin, though Neji hitting his prostate with uncanny precision might have had something to do with it as well.
In the end it turned out that the silk boxers were far and away more distracting than the lack of underwear had ever been. Especially since Kiba had taken to wearing silk boxers and nothing else when he was at home. Neji finally decided that he would just have to increase the amount of time he spent meditating to cope.
He was perfectly willing to make that sacrifice.