Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto
Watch Me Watch You
There was still the fact that he was male and, while Neji had always entertained a certain amount of...curiosity, he had never met anyone who interested him like Kiba did.
?Blocked
Another fic written for my claim over at LJ's 30_sex_scenes comm.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Naruto belongs to Kishimoto. I just play with the universe and characters for my own personal enjoyment.
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The third floor of the library was nearly silent, only the barely audible hum of the ventilation system and the occasional faint rustle of a turning page could be heard. Hyuuga Neji was tucked back in the stacks at one of several study desks scattered throughout the upper floors. It was his favorite spot, the little graffiti decorated cubby tucked in behind the rows of books on the various religions of the world.
If anyone were to ask him why he preferred this spot, as opposed to any other, he would say it was because he required near silence to study. This was not entirely the truth. While the third floor was certainly one of the quietest floors in the library, there were plenty of other places to study undisturbed, both in the library and elsewhere on campus. No, the real reason this was his preferred study spot would be arriving within the next half hour or so.
Pulling a biochemistry book from the neatly stacked pile on the corner of the table, he set to work finishing the notes on nucleotide biosynthesis, next week's assigned chapter. The outline was very thorough, the words marching neatly across the page in his usual bold script, all pertinent points clearly marked. Neji always took notes on paper first before typing them into his computer; he enjoyed the ritual of writing, the archaic nature of it and the way the lines and slashes felt under his pen.
He had completed the biosynthesis outline and just begun the one for protein synthesis that was due in two weeks, when he heard the sharp tap of footsteps hurrying through the stacks.
Putting down his pencil, Neji turned slightly in his seat, leaning just enough to see beyond the edge of the divider. His pale eyes narrowed, focusing on the end of the aisle twenty feet away. In a flurry of movement a brown haired boy erupted from between the books, bag slung over his shoulder, his hair tousled and damp from the rain. The book bag was unceremoniously tossed and it landed with a thud on the table. The chair squeaked seconds later, protesting as the boy tumbled into it, shrugging off his coat and shaking the water from his shaggy hair simultaneously. Neji could see the scattered droplets glistening under the harsh florescent lights as they fell.
As carefully as he could, Neji adjusted his seat, positioning himself so that he could see the boy and still appear to be studying. It was a sneaky maneuver, the stretch then the slide of the chair, all while keeping the legs from scraping the tile. He had mastered the technique over the past few months. The resulting view wasn't great but it would do, better to have a slight view than no view at all.
The boy was fussing around, rearranging his books and folders and computer until they were organized into a seemingly random formation that seemed to satisfy him. Neji, who besides being fairly anal about the state of his work space, could probably sit still through a hurricane. Having only just sat down the boy was already tapping his pencil and shifting in his seat and ruffling his already messy hair. The amount of fidgeting the other boy was capable of was amazing.
The motion and chaos happening twenty feet away was astonishing.
And intriguing.
Mostly intriguing, if he was going to be honest with himself, which he tried to be since clearing up all the old festering family drama he'd had with his uncle a couple of years ago.
The sudden buzz of a cell phone vibrating caught Neji's attention and he leaned back a little more, nonchalantly stretching a kink out of his neck.
Patently ignoring the 'no cell phones allowed in study areas' rule, the boy checked the caller id before answering, his face splitting into an amused grin as he talked in a stage whisper. The caller was obviously a friend.
In the two months that Neji had been watching the kid, there had been handfuls of friends who had come by to "study" with the boy, which usually meant that they goofed off and made it harder for Neji to observe undetected. He wondered if it would be the hyper blond boy this time. He hoped not since when he came the two of them usually left early animatedly discussing which bar would have the best cheap drinks/girls/karaoke that evening. Neji wouldn't admit that he felt deprived when the brown haired boy left any more than he would ever admit that he occasionally found their antics amusing.
Neji, despite a great deal of thought on the subject, was unable to fully explain to himself the reasons for his fascination with the boy. He couldn't even say that the boy was particularly handsome, though his face was somehow compelling. He had a vibrancy to him and, despite the devil may care attitude, he seemed fairly conscientious about his course work. On a stroll one evening to shake the fatigue from his body Neji had just happened to glance at the textbooks spread across the boys desk: they'd been slanted heavily towards the sciences and animals. He was probably a pre-vet student and, as a pre-med student himself, Neji knew how much dedication a pre-professional degree took.
But there was still the fact that he was male and, while Neji had always entertained a certain amount of...curiosity, he had never met anyone who interested him like the brown haired boy did.
And he didn't even know his name.
Pulling himself from his musings, Neji tugged the tie from his hair, letting the heavy mass fall and obscure his face. It fell just past his shoulders, straight and dark and while he wouldn't admit to it, he was rather proud of his hair. Neji had figured out a month and a half ago that it provided a perfect screen to watch someone through. Or if not perfect, at least a better view without appearing to be staring.
Phone call finished, the boy had slipped ear buds into his ears and was frowning over one of his books, foot tapping to the music as he chewed on his lower lip in frustration. Tossing his pencil down he looked at his watch before picking up his phone and typing furiously. His hands were tanned, his fingers stocky but surprisingly agile. Neji watched them as they flew over the keypad slightly jealous since his own hands, despite their strength and size, were pale and bony.
The exchange of text messages went on for a few minutes until the brown haired boy apparently wheedled someone into giving him the answer he was looking for. Looking pleased he turned his attention back to the work before him, flipping through his textbook, feet already tapping once again against the tile.
The minutes ticked by and Neji was futilely trying to keep his attention focused on protein synthesis when a dark haired, bespectacled boy came up behind the other, placing his hand briefly on the back of his neck. The brown haired boy looked up quickly and though Neji couldn't see his face he seemed happy to see the other one. Neji couldn't recall having ever seen this particular guy before but the ease of their interactions told him that they were probably old friends.
The two talked animatedly for a moment before the object of his fascination began packing up his bag. Disappointed that his quarry was leaving so soon after arriving, Neji leaned back, tucking his hair behind his ears. Turning his head he caught the boy's eye and froze. In the process of slinging his bag over his shoulder the boy flashed him a decidedly wicked grin.
Then the two boys left, slipping down the aisles, their footsteps muffled by the stacks. Disconcerted, Neji tried to return to his assignment but that smile kept replaying in his mind. The way his lips had parted to reveal a straight row of white teeth, the tiny slice of tongue that slide between those teeth, pink and wet. Hoping that a walk would clear his mind he stood up. A quick circuit around the perimeter should be enough, though maybe a green tea from the café in the lobby would help as well. He really shouldn't let the absence of the boy prevent him from getting his work done.
He used to be so studious.
Mind made up he tucked his books into his bag and took the long way around to the stairs. The long way, perhaps unsurprisingly, went past the desk the brown haired boy usually sat at. Looking down as he passed he noticed a scrap of paper left lying innocently on the scarred wood. The writing was bold and chaotic, the letters and words seeming to tumble over one another to get the message across.
'Group study room 11, fourth floor.'
Curious, Neji picked the paper up, turning it over to see if the other side offered up any clues but all he found were partial physics equations interspersed with doodles of dogs, something that looked like shuriken, and at the very edge, a name. Kiba. Neji rolled the name around on his tongue, tasting the syllables, thinking that it fit the boy.
There was an internal debate, furious and brief and the end result was not all that surprising really.
Despite the hundreds of reasons why he shouldn't do it clamoring insistently in his head, Neji cut through the tall rows of books, intent on the stairwell on the opposite side of the floor. Once inside, assaulted with the faint smell of antiseptic he almost turned around, almost abandoned what he knew was a foolish preoccupation with that boy, Kiba. Antiseptic reminded him of his uncle's hospital and it reminded him that it was highly unlikely that his uncle would look kindly on this current deviation of his.
The last deviation had included his cousin and had been the result of some serious misunderstandings and questionable truths.
Persevering despite his well founded and undoubtedly sensible reservations, Neji headed up the stairs. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the stairwell and he counted steps as he climbed, ten then a landing then another ten, before he was faced with the heavy red fire door that opened onto the fourth floor. Pushing the door open he stepped inside, assaulted by the heady smell of old books and the rumble of forced air.
He'd never quite understood how every level in the library smelt different, though considering that the book repair workshop was on this floor, it made sense that this one would smell different than the others. For whatever reason, few students chose to study on the fourth floor, and Neji thought that it was wholly possible that the smell of old glue and leather scared them away. He liked books rather a lot actually, and yet it was nearly enough to send him fleeing. Well, that and the thought of what may await him in study room eleven.
A quick glance around the floor showed that it was deserted. Neji had never used any of the study rooms on this floor so he was unsure where number eleven was located. His brief perusal indicated that study room nine was immediately to his right so he turned that way, walking as quietly as possible. Years of required martial arts training had lent him a sort of cat like grace and he slipped along the outside aisle, shoes making only a slight noise against the tile. He wondered what his former sensei would think about this application of his formal training.
Group study room eleven turned out to be in the corner opposite the stairwell. All the study rooms had large windows with blinds that only lowered two-thirds of the way, in theory to prevent any mischief by adventuresome students. The rate of their success was questionable at best as adventurous students love nothing better than a challenge and the risk of getting caught. Numbers nine and ten were dark, their blinds pulled up, though Neji was pretty sure that someone was asleep in number nine. Number eleven was up ahead of him, the lights on, the blinds down as far as they would go.
Ducking down the row that ran parallel to the room, Neji found a point where he could peer into the room without being seen. Rearranging a set of out of date books that dealt with the animals of Southeast Asia he had a fairly clear view of the room beyond.
It was almost as if they had planned the whole damn thing, right down to where he would stand.
The large table that normally dominated the center of the room had been turned and pushed to the side, blocking the door. The chairs were set around the perimeter of the room facing inward as though an invisible audience was present. In the center of the room there was a single chair and in that chair was the brown haired boy. He lounged there, legs sprawled, exuding a confidence and sexuality that Neji could practically taste. He felt his heart thump a little harder in his chest.
The boy with glasses was leaning over Kiba, hands on either side of his head, straddling his legs. Glasses said something and Kiba laughed, pulling the other boy closer, close enough that their noses touched. Reaching up to snake a hand into Glasses' hair, Kiba closed the distance between them and pressed their mouths together. It wasn't a chaste kiss by any stretch of the imagination. Neji distinctly saw that there were tongues involved.
To say he was stunned was the understatement of the year. It wasn't so much the sight of two men kissing that floored him but rather what the sight of two men kissing did to him. The steady, analytical portion of his brain still working reminded him that his reaction was the result of his parasympathetic nervous system kicking in. That knowledge didn't really help matters.
Kiba had his hands up underneath the dark haired boys shirt, running them restlessly along skin that Neji imagined was warm and smooth. As he watched they dipped down to skim along the waistband of Glasses' pants, playing teasingly with the button. Glasses shook his head, capturing the wandering hand and returning it to its previous position. Kiba pouted against the kiss.
One of Glasses' hands was wandering as well, tugging Kiba's shirt up, sliding along a surprisingly defined abdomen, working some mischief between their bodies that Neji couldn't see clearly but could easily guess at.
Glasses eventually broke off the kiss, sliding from Kiba's lap to stand between his legs. Kiba was grinning up at him, flushed from the kiss, saying something that caused the dark haired boy to blush. It was quite an erotic picture, the two boys in a teasingly sexual position, faces colored by arousal, and Neji had to press his palm against his own erection which had surged to life at the first touch of lips.
Closing his eyes he breathed slowly and steadily through his nose, counting breathes, practicing every technique ever taught to him about meditation. If the show was indeed being done for his benefit, he needed to be centered to enjoy it.
He opened his eyes again just as Kiba was tugging Glasses' pants open. The brown haired boy was leaning forward in the chair, smirking as he began to teasingly stroke the cock that jutted out from the denim. Glasses had his head tipped back, eye's half closed, mouth half open, his hands clenched at his sides. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips.
When Kiba took Glasses fully in his mouth, lips stretching over the head of his cock, Neji could feel the shudder that shivered across the dark haired boys skin. He imagined that mouth, hot and wet on his own dick, sliding teasingly slow. A lesser man may have whimpered at that point but Neji held it in. The study rooms were surprisingly soundproof but the main room was obviously not. He did not need to get caught spying.
Highest ranked pre-med student caught in voyeuristic snafu.
Definitely not.
So Neji stood as quietly and unobtrusively as he could, gaze fixed on the pair, entranced.
It went on for a few minutes like that, until Glasses was tangling his hands in Kiba's hair. Until his legs were shaking.
Kiba picked up the pace then, setting a steady rhythm, burying his nose in the dark hair that crinkled at the base of Glasses cock, hands reaching down to fondle tightening balls and then past them to touch a more sensitive place. A handful of breathes and he was coming, spilling his seed into Kiba's mouth. Neji watched his throat work, watched as he swallowed it all before standing up and pressing a hard kiss against Glasses' lips.
Glasses accepted the kiss gladly, though Neji knew that Kiba must taste hot and salty, musky. Yet Neji could see them, see the intense play of tongues and see the way Kiba's hands were slipping under the loosened waistband to grope the dark haired boys ass. Could see the way Kiba rocked his obvious erection against Glasses' hip. Watched as he whispered something against that kiss bitten mouth, eyes hooded and hazy with lust.
Neji slipped away then, down the row of books, focused on the restroom near the stairs, unable to take anymore.
The visual stimulation was simply too much.
Slamming through the door he headed straight for the stall, dropping his bag and sliding the lock across. Unzipping his pants he leaned back against the wall, hand working furiously. The scenes from the study room flashed behind his eyes, one long slide show on repeat. He came before the dark haired boy did in his mind, clenching his teeth to prevent the moan that had been hovering in the back of his throat from escaping. It was the best orgasm he'd had in ages.
Neji cleaned up slowly, mind twisting with thoughts of what he'd just seen and what he'd just done.
Tying his hair back up he took the time to calm himself, breathing slowly and re-centering his mind. Neji wouldn't think of leaving until he no longer looked as though he had just masturbated to completion in a school facility. It took a handful of minutes and thoroughly dousing his face with cold water before he finally felt presentable enough to leave. Gathering his bag, and frowning at the dirty smudge the floor had left on it, he left the restroom. He was relieved to see that the floor was still quiet and seemingly empty.
He took the steps two at a time, debating on whether he still wanted to buy a tea at the café or not. By the time he reached the lobby he had abandoned the idea. The bottle of sake tucked into the cupboard over the refrigerator was definitely a better choice. Or maybe not precisely better but certainly more appropriate.
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Three days later Neji found himself once more tucked into the third floor stacks, comfortably ensconced in his cubby behind world religions. He hadn't slept well the past few nights. Every time he closed his eyes his mind would the replay the scene from that night, the events blooming bright and technicolored, often with an accompanying soundtrack. Awake he debated the saneness of returning to study on the third floor. Asleep he dreamt of Kiba's mouth and Kiba's hands and Kiba's skin against his own.
Confused he may be, but he'd never backed down from anything and he wasn't about to start now. So back to the third floor he went.
Fully engrossed in calculus and the Bach Sonata tinkling melodically in his ear, he didn't hear the footsteps approach his seat. The slight change in the airflow behind him caused him to look up just as Kiba sauntered past, his walk as cocky as ever. Leaning back in his seat he eyed the other man, watching as he unpacked his bag before collapsing into his seat.
Settled in an unheard of amount of time, Kiba turned and looked his way, straight faced, his eyes shadowed by his unruly hair. Neji looked back, hoping he looked unruffled and unaffected, lifting an eyebrow in the haughtiest way he knew how. Kiba offered up a smirk in response.
They spent the next two hours studying, or trying to study while watching one another peripherally, which probably didn't count as studying at all. The air seemed to teem with innuendo and unspoken questions. Finally Kiba snapped shut the book he'd been staring at all evening and stood up. Neji turned to watch as he began repacking his bag, not bothering to hide behind the illusion studying any longer.
As Kiba turned to walk back past his desk Neji felt something like anticipation stir to life in his stomach. It trembled there excitedly, buzzing against his ribs, intensifying when Kiba stopped close enough that Neji could smell the spicy undertones of his cologne. Brown eyes stared into gray as Kiba leaned down and pressed his nose close to Neji's hair, inhaling deeply.
The fizzy feeling of anticipation was nearing the point of being overwhelming. Neji was pretty sure that if he didn't get a handle on himself he would explode. Or tackle Kiba. Either was a distinct possibility though Neji would honestly prefer the later.
Kiba whispered something then, his breath stirring the strands of hair that had slipped loose from the tie, a trifecta of date, time, and location. Neji answered the unasked question with a fairly noncommittal hum. One thing did not necessarily lead to another after all.
Pulling back, Kiba grinned at him, somehow managing to look licentious and just a little abashed at the same time, before walking away. Neji watched him go, admiring the roll of Kiba's hips as his mind tried to process the information. It didn't help that the more carnal aspects of his personality were going ballistic.
Appearances be damned, he'd definitely be going. It was an outright challenge after all. And Hyuuga Neji never backed down.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Naruto belongs to Kishimoto. I just play with the universe and characters for my own personal enjoyment.
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The third floor of the library was nearly silent, only the barely audible hum of the ventilation system and the occasional faint rustle of a turning page could be heard. Hyuuga Neji was tucked back in the stacks at one of several study desks scattered throughout the upper floors. It was his favorite spot, the little graffiti decorated cubby tucked in behind the rows of books on the various religions of the world.
If anyone were to ask him why he preferred this spot, as opposed to any other, he would say it was because he required near silence to study. This was not entirely the truth. While the third floor was certainly one of the quietest floors in the library, there were plenty of other places to study undisturbed, both in the library and elsewhere on campus. No, the real reason this was his preferred study spot would be arriving within the next half hour or so.
Pulling a biochemistry book from the neatly stacked pile on the corner of the table, he set to work finishing the notes on nucleotide biosynthesis, next week's assigned chapter. The outline was very thorough, the words marching neatly across the page in his usual bold script, all pertinent points clearly marked. Neji always took notes on paper first before typing them into his computer; he enjoyed the ritual of writing, the archaic nature of it and the way the lines and slashes felt under his pen.
He had completed the biosynthesis outline and just begun the one for protein synthesis that was due in two weeks, when he heard the sharp tap of footsteps hurrying through the stacks.
Putting down his pencil, Neji turned slightly in his seat, leaning just enough to see beyond the edge of the divider. His pale eyes narrowed, focusing on the end of the aisle twenty feet away. In a flurry of movement a brown haired boy erupted from between the books, bag slung over his shoulder, his hair tousled and damp from the rain. The book bag was unceremoniously tossed and it landed with a thud on the table. The chair squeaked seconds later, protesting as the boy tumbled into it, shrugging off his coat and shaking the water from his shaggy hair simultaneously. Neji could see the scattered droplets glistening under the harsh florescent lights as they fell.
As carefully as he could, Neji adjusted his seat, positioning himself so that he could see the boy and still appear to be studying. It was a sneaky maneuver, the stretch then the slide of the chair, all while keeping the legs from scraping the tile. He had mastered the technique over the past few months. The resulting view wasn't great but it would do, better to have a slight view than no view at all.
The boy was fussing around, rearranging his books and folders and computer until they were organized into a seemingly random formation that seemed to satisfy him. Neji, who besides being fairly anal about the state of his work space, could probably sit still through a hurricane. Having only just sat down the boy was already tapping his pencil and shifting in his seat and ruffling his already messy hair. The amount of fidgeting the other boy was capable of was amazing.
The motion and chaos happening twenty feet away was astonishing.
And intriguing.
Mostly intriguing, if he was going to be honest with himself, which he tried to be since clearing up all the old festering family drama he'd had with his uncle a couple of years ago.
The sudden buzz of a cell phone vibrating caught Neji's attention and he leaned back a little more, nonchalantly stretching a kink out of his neck.
Patently ignoring the 'no cell phones allowed in study areas' rule, the boy checked the caller id before answering, his face splitting into an amused grin as he talked in a stage whisper. The caller was obviously a friend.
In the two months that Neji had been watching the kid, there had been handfuls of friends who had come by to "study" with the boy, which usually meant that they goofed off and made it harder for Neji to observe undetected. He wondered if it would be the hyper blond boy this time. He hoped not since when he came the two of them usually left early animatedly discussing which bar would have the best cheap drinks/girls/karaoke that evening. Neji wouldn't admit that he felt deprived when the brown haired boy left any more than he would ever admit that he occasionally found their antics amusing.
Neji, despite a great deal of thought on the subject, was unable to fully explain to himself the reasons for his fascination with the boy. He couldn't even say that the boy was particularly handsome, though his face was somehow compelling. He had a vibrancy to him and, despite the devil may care attitude, he seemed fairly conscientious about his course work. On a stroll one evening to shake the fatigue from his body Neji had just happened to glance at the textbooks spread across the boys desk: they'd been slanted heavily towards the sciences and animals. He was probably a pre-vet student and, as a pre-med student himself, Neji knew how much dedication a pre-professional degree took.
But there was still the fact that he was male and, while Neji had always entertained a certain amount of...curiosity, he had never met anyone who interested him like the brown haired boy did.
And he didn't even know his name.
Pulling himself from his musings, Neji tugged the tie from his hair, letting the heavy mass fall and obscure his face. It fell just past his shoulders, straight and dark and while he wouldn't admit to it, he was rather proud of his hair. Neji had figured out a month and a half ago that it provided a perfect screen to watch someone through. Or if not perfect, at least a better view without appearing to be staring.
Phone call finished, the boy had slipped ear buds into his ears and was frowning over one of his books, foot tapping to the music as he chewed on his lower lip in frustration. Tossing his pencil down he looked at his watch before picking up his phone and typing furiously. His hands were tanned, his fingers stocky but surprisingly agile. Neji watched them as they flew over the keypad slightly jealous since his own hands, despite their strength and size, were pale and bony.
The exchange of text messages went on for a few minutes until the brown haired boy apparently wheedled someone into giving him the answer he was looking for. Looking pleased he turned his attention back to the work before him, flipping through his textbook, feet already tapping once again against the tile.
The minutes ticked by and Neji was futilely trying to keep his attention focused on protein synthesis when a dark haired, bespectacled boy came up behind the other, placing his hand briefly on the back of his neck. The brown haired boy looked up quickly and though Neji couldn't see his face he seemed happy to see the other one. Neji couldn't recall having ever seen this particular guy before but the ease of their interactions told him that they were probably old friends.
The two talked animatedly for a moment before the object of his fascination began packing up his bag. Disappointed that his quarry was leaving so soon after arriving, Neji leaned back, tucking his hair behind his ears. Turning his head he caught the boy's eye and froze. In the process of slinging his bag over his shoulder the boy flashed him a decidedly wicked grin.
Then the two boys left, slipping down the aisles, their footsteps muffled by the stacks. Disconcerted, Neji tried to return to his assignment but that smile kept replaying in his mind. The way his lips had parted to reveal a straight row of white teeth, the tiny slice of tongue that slide between those teeth, pink and wet. Hoping that a walk would clear his mind he stood up. A quick circuit around the perimeter should be enough, though maybe a green tea from the café in the lobby would help as well. He really shouldn't let the absence of the boy prevent him from getting his work done.
He used to be so studious.
Mind made up he tucked his books into his bag and took the long way around to the stairs. The long way, perhaps unsurprisingly, went past the desk the brown haired boy usually sat at. Looking down as he passed he noticed a scrap of paper left lying innocently on the scarred wood. The writing was bold and chaotic, the letters and words seeming to tumble over one another to get the message across.
'Group study room 11, fourth floor.'
Curious, Neji picked the paper up, turning it over to see if the other side offered up any clues but all he found were partial physics equations interspersed with doodles of dogs, something that looked like shuriken, and at the very edge, a name. Kiba. Neji rolled the name around on his tongue, tasting the syllables, thinking that it fit the boy.
There was an internal debate, furious and brief and the end result was not all that surprising really.
Despite the hundreds of reasons why he shouldn't do it clamoring insistently in his head, Neji cut through the tall rows of books, intent on the stairwell on the opposite side of the floor. Once inside, assaulted with the faint smell of antiseptic he almost turned around, almost abandoned what he knew was a foolish preoccupation with that boy, Kiba. Antiseptic reminded him of his uncle's hospital and it reminded him that it was highly unlikely that his uncle would look kindly on this current deviation of his.
The last deviation had included his cousin and had been the result of some serious misunderstandings and questionable truths.
Persevering despite his well founded and undoubtedly sensible reservations, Neji headed up the stairs. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the stairwell and he counted steps as he climbed, ten then a landing then another ten, before he was faced with the heavy red fire door that opened onto the fourth floor. Pushing the door open he stepped inside, assaulted by the heady smell of old books and the rumble of forced air.
He'd never quite understood how every level in the library smelt different, though considering that the book repair workshop was on this floor, it made sense that this one would smell different than the others. For whatever reason, few students chose to study on the fourth floor, and Neji thought that it was wholly possible that the smell of old glue and leather scared them away. He liked books rather a lot actually, and yet it was nearly enough to send him fleeing. Well, that and the thought of what may await him in study room eleven.
A quick glance around the floor showed that it was deserted. Neji had never used any of the study rooms on this floor so he was unsure where number eleven was located. His brief perusal indicated that study room nine was immediately to his right so he turned that way, walking as quietly as possible. Years of required martial arts training had lent him a sort of cat like grace and he slipped along the outside aisle, shoes making only a slight noise against the tile. He wondered what his former sensei would think about this application of his formal training.
Group study room eleven turned out to be in the corner opposite the stairwell. All the study rooms had large windows with blinds that only lowered two-thirds of the way, in theory to prevent any mischief by adventuresome students. The rate of their success was questionable at best as adventurous students love nothing better than a challenge and the risk of getting caught. Numbers nine and ten were dark, their blinds pulled up, though Neji was pretty sure that someone was asleep in number nine. Number eleven was up ahead of him, the lights on, the blinds down as far as they would go.
Ducking down the row that ran parallel to the room, Neji found a point where he could peer into the room without being seen. Rearranging a set of out of date books that dealt with the animals of Southeast Asia he had a fairly clear view of the room beyond.
It was almost as if they had planned the whole damn thing, right down to where he would stand.
The large table that normally dominated the center of the room had been turned and pushed to the side, blocking the door. The chairs were set around the perimeter of the room facing inward as though an invisible audience was present. In the center of the room there was a single chair and in that chair was the brown haired boy. He lounged there, legs sprawled, exuding a confidence and sexuality that Neji could practically taste. He felt his heart thump a little harder in his chest.
The boy with glasses was leaning over Kiba, hands on either side of his head, straddling his legs. Glasses said something and Kiba laughed, pulling the other boy closer, close enough that their noses touched. Reaching up to snake a hand into Glasses' hair, Kiba closed the distance between them and pressed their mouths together. It wasn't a chaste kiss by any stretch of the imagination. Neji distinctly saw that there were tongues involved.
To say he was stunned was the understatement of the year. It wasn't so much the sight of two men kissing that floored him but rather what the sight of two men kissing did to him. The steady, analytical portion of his brain still working reminded him that his reaction was the result of his parasympathetic nervous system kicking in. That knowledge didn't really help matters.
Kiba had his hands up underneath the dark haired boys shirt, running them restlessly along skin that Neji imagined was warm and smooth. As he watched they dipped down to skim along the waistband of Glasses' pants, playing teasingly with the button. Glasses shook his head, capturing the wandering hand and returning it to its previous position. Kiba pouted against the kiss.
One of Glasses' hands was wandering as well, tugging Kiba's shirt up, sliding along a surprisingly defined abdomen, working some mischief between their bodies that Neji couldn't see clearly but could easily guess at.
Glasses eventually broke off the kiss, sliding from Kiba's lap to stand between his legs. Kiba was grinning up at him, flushed from the kiss, saying something that caused the dark haired boy to blush. It was quite an erotic picture, the two boys in a teasingly sexual position, faces colored by arousal, and Neji had to press his palm against his own erection which had surged to life at the first touch of lips.
Closing his eyes he breathed slowly and steadily through his nose, counting breathes, practicing every technique ever taught to him about meditation. If the show was indeed being done for his benefit, he needed to be centered to enjoy it.
He opened his eyes again just as Kiba was tugging Glasses' pants open. The brown haired boy was leaning forward in the chair, smirking as he began to teasingly stroke the cock that jutted out from the denim. Glasses had his head tipped back, eye's half closed, mouth half open, his hands clenched at his sides. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips.
When Kiba took Glasses fully in his mouth, lips stretching over the head of his cock, Neji could feel the shudder that shivered across the dark haired boys skin. He imagined that mouth, hot and wet on his own dick, sliding teasingly slow. A lesser man may have whimpered at that point but Neji held it in. The study rooms were surprisingly soundproof but the main room was obviously not. He did not need to get caught spying.
Highest ranked pre-med student caught in voyeuristic snafu.
Definitely not.
So Neji stood as quietly and unobtrusively as he could, gaze fixed on the pair, entranced.
It went on for a few minutes like that, until Glasses was tangling his hands in Kiba's hair. Until his legs were shaking.
Kiba picked up the pace then, setting a steady rhythm, burying his nose in the dark hair that crinkled at the base of Glasses cock, hands reaching down to fondle tightening balls and then past them to touch a more sensitive place. A handful of breathes and he was coming, spilling his seed into Kiba's mouth. Neji watched his throat work, watched as he swallowed it all before standing up and pressing a hard kiss against Glasses' lips.
Glasses accepted the kiss gladly, though Neji knew that Kiba must taste hot and salty, musky. Yet Neji could see them, see the intense play of tongues and see the way Kiba's hands were slipping under the loosened waistband to grope the dark haired boys ass. Could see the way Kiba rocked his obvious erection against Glasses' hip. Watched as he whispered something against that kiss bitten mouth, eyes hooded and hazy with lust.
Neji slipped away then, down the row of books, focused on the restroom near the stairs, unable to take anymore.
The visual stimulation was simply too much.
Slamming through the door he headed straight for the stall, dropping his bag and sliding the lock across. Unzipping his pants he leaned back against the wall, hand working furiously. The scenes from the study room flashed behind his eyes, one long slide show on repeat. He came before the dark haired boy did in his mind, clenching his teeth to prevent the moan that had been hovering in the back of his throat from escaping. It was the best orgasm he'd had in ages.
Neji cleaned up slowly, mind twisting with thoughts of what he'd just seen and what he'd just done.
Tying his hair back up he took the time to calm himself, breathing slowly and re-centering his mind. Neji wouldn't think of leaving until he no longer looked as though he had just masturbated to completion in a school facility. It took a handful of minutes and thoroughly dousing his face with cold water before he finally felt presentable enough to leave. Gathering his bag, and frowning at the dirty smudge the floor had left on it, he left the restroom. He was relieved to see that the floor was still quiet and seemingly empty.
He took the steps two at a time, debating on whether he still wanted to buy a tea at the café or not. By the time he reached the lobby he had abandoned the idea. The bottle of sake tucked into the cupboard over the refrigerator was definitely a better choice. Or maybe not precisely better but certainly more appropriate.
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Three days later Neji found himself once more tucked into the third floor stacks, comfortably ensconced in his cubby behind world religions. He hadn't slept well the past few nights. Every time he closed his eyes his mind would the replay the scene from that night, the events blooming bright and technicolored, often with an accompanying soundtrack. Awake he debated the saneness of returning to study on the third floor. Asleep he dreamt of Kiba's mouth and Kiba's hands and Kiba's skin against his own.
Confused he may be, but he'd never backed down from anything and he wasn't about to start now. So back to the third floor he went.
Fully engrossed in calculus and the Bach Sonata tinkling melodically in his ear, he didn't hear the footsteps approach his seat. The slight change in the airflow behind him caused him to look up just as Kiba sauntered past, his walk as cocky as ever. Leaning back in his seat he eyed the other man, watching as he unpacked his bag before collapsing into his seat.
Settled in an unheard of amount of time, Kiba turned and looked his way, straight faced, his eyes shadowed by his unruly hair. Neji looked back, hoping he looked unruffled and unaffected, lifting an eyebrow in the haughtiest way he knew how. Kiba offered up a smirk in response.
They spent the next two hours studying, or trying to study while watching one another peripherally, which probably didn't count as studying at all. The air seemed to teem with innuendo and unspoken questions. Finally Kiba snapped shut the book he'd been staring at all evening and stood up. Neji turned to watch as he began repacking his bag, not bothering to hide behind the illusion studying any longer.
As Kiba turned to walk back past his desk Neji felt something like anticipation stir to life in his stomach. It trembled there excitedly, buzzing against his ribs, intensifying when Kiba stopped close enough that Neji could smell the spicy undertones of his cologne. Brown eyes stared into gray as Kiba leaned down and pressed his nose close to Neji's hair, inhaling deeply.
The fizzy feeling of anticipation was nearing the point of being overwhelming. Neji was pretty sure that if he didn't get a handle on himself he would explode. Or tackle Kiba. Either was a distinct possibility though Neji would honestly prefer the later.
Kiba whispered something then, his breath stirring the strands of hair that had slipped loose from the tie, a trifecta of date, time, and location. Neji answered the unasked question with a fairly noncommittal hum. One thing did not necessarily lead to another after all.
Pulling back, Kiba grinned at him, somehow managing to look licentious and just a little abashed at the same time, before walking away. Neji watched him go, admiring the roll of Kiba's hips as his mind tried to process the information. It didn't help that the more carnal aspects of his personality were going ballistic.
Appearances be damned, he'd definitely be going. It was an outright challenge after all. And Hyuuga Neji never backed down.
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