Shino's Problem

II.

The Hyuuga clan normally had no need to bring in outside security. But the clan celebration should be a celebration for everyone. So Hiashi had hired the best, hired what couldn’t be hired, what could only be offered as an upgrade courtesy of the Hokage: ANBU. They were nowhere in sight of course—only the regular jounins and chuunins were to be seen discretely guarding the Hyuuga compound. But the real security, well, that was in the hands of the “unseen” guards. Of course, to any Hyuuga with Byakugan, the ANBU guards were obvious. Their chakra, even cloaked, was unmistakably strong and developed. Compared to the other ninjas and to the civilians, well, they stood out like blood on snow.

Ibiki mingled with guests, vanishing periodically to check in with his men and to investigate what intrigued him. And the interaction between Shino and Hinata intrigued him. According to village and ninja gossip, they were in love, which Ibiki knew wasn’t true within ten seconds of watching them interact. Then there was the story of how they had finally done it at Shino’s new apartment—screaming each other’s names, Shino’s bugs going wild, Hinata racing off and leaving her shoe behind in the hallway. But that, too, had to be wrong. Ibiki knew how people interacted once they had slept together—and the way Shino and Hinata acted, well, they hadn’t.

The mystery had Ibiki stumped for about ten minutes—until Hyuuga Neji walked into the ballroom just as Ibiki was studying Shino’s shockingly uncovered face. Ah! So that was it! The whole story was suddenly apparent to Ibiki—all but whether or not Neji could find Shino attractive. Then Gaara walked in, and Ibiki had to feel sorry for Shino. It was obvious, well, to Ibiki and no doubt to anyone in love with Neji and watching him closely, that Neji and Gaara were fucking or going to be fucking in a few hours. That was new, very new. Newer than the supposed sexual relationship of Shino and Hinata. He’d have to listen to the reports of the ANBU assigned to Gaara very carefully. Half way through the ball, Neji left to escort the Kazekage to his hotel, and he didn’t return—as Ibiki and anyone watching the two could have easily predicted. Looking at Shino’s face after Neji and Gaara left together was painful; perhaps because he usually wore clothing that covered much of his face, he didn’t have the ability to hide his emotions well. Or maybe that was why he always wore such concealing clothing. At any rate, it meant that it was clear he was suffering just looking at his face.

Thirty minutes after Neji and Gaara left, Hinata suddenly developed a bad headache, and Shino and she, too, left the ball. For Ibiki, spying on the couple was nothing challenging. The careful, secretive passing over of a small packet to the departing Aburame left him thoughtful.

The next day, Ibiki broke into Shino’s apartment and examined the mysterious packet. It had been hard to find and guarded by a seal and several bugs. He knew how to neutralize the danger of the bugs, but even so, he had less than a minute before Shino was there, furious, but the photos took only milliseconds to comprehend. He let Shino verify his pictures were there, safe, undamaged. Then Ibiki made Shino his offer. A number of the ANBU nins were gay, partnerless, and, well, dangerously horny. A man sexually frustrated and deprived had trouble sleeping and was more easily distracted. And then there was the problem of an Aburame suffering from sexual frustration—it made for shaky control over his bugs, for a dangerous emotional volatility that just might get him demoted or at least limited to C or D missions. The answer was obvious: anonymous sex, no strings attached, using a darkness jutsu that meant those whose face was hidden by masks—or tall collars and dark glasses—would stay hidden. It was discrete, safe, and completely up to Shino as to when, where, how many, how long. The signal he was looking for a visit was simple: just put out the simple red cat bowl on his balcony.

Leaving Shino in his living room staring at the little red cat bowl on his coffee table, Ibiki went and concealed himself outside the apartment. He had a hunch about what Shino would do next, and well, he’d timed his visit to take advantage of that fact. Sure, enough, Shino soon left his apartment and made his way to Gai’s dojo. Neji and Gaara were sparring, well, if you could call it that. Shino watched from the balcony with quite a number of ninjas, all of whom were freely speculating on who had fucked who last night and this morning and how many times and in what position. Each hickey on the pale white skins of Gaara and Neji was commented on, admired, assessed. The various holds of the two men as they grappled on the ground were used to bolster the arguments about who had topped and who had bottomed. When Neji trapped Gaara’s head between his legs and ground his crotch into the Kazekage’s face, Shino finally turned and left. Ibiki gestured to one of the ANBU nins on duty tailing Gaara, the one in the tiger mask. He would be off duty tonight and certainly could use some relief after having to watch Gaara and Neji the last night and today. Smiling, Ibiki left the dojo to inform the others he was permitting to approach Shino. Iruka had been a sad disappointment as ANBU uke. But he had a feeling Shino would not disappoint.

Gaara. The Kazekage. Power, beauty, and prestige. A hokage-level warrior, the highest ranking ninja in all of Wind Country, and gorgeous to boot. Pretty, pretty red hair, a pretty face, a body that was proportional, elegant. And his face was strong, fierce, and showed only what he wanted it to show, not what Shino wanted to know. Did Gaara love Hyuuga-san? Did Hyuuga-san love Gaara? Were they fuck buddies or something more? Did it even matter? Gaara was the sort of lover that Hyuuga Neji would always have, the sort that was everything Shino wasn’t. He couldn’t compete with Gaara. He’d known that Hyuuga-san would someday take a lover; he’d known it wouldn’t be him, Aburame Shino. But he hadn’t known how much it would hurt, how devastating it would feel. It was like the center of his world had been ripped away. He couldn’t even masturbated anymore. The pictures, the pictures of his Hyuuga-san, were useless. Gaara had left after a week. Shino didn’t know if Hyuuga-san had taken another lover, didn’t want to know. He didn’t go to the Hyuuga compound much anymore. Hinata understood. She came to see him instead. Naruto was sleeping with Sakura now. They drank tea together in silence, played shogi, polished kunai, listened to music.

But three weeks later, Shino was going mad. He was having wet dreams, dreams of Hyuuga-san, and he couldn’t bring himself to masturbate. His last mission hadn’t gone well. And now, today, he’d had an erection since two p.m. It was five p.m. now, and the cold shower hadn’t helped. He pulled out his pictures of Hyuuga-san. He looked at the red cat bowl on his coffee table. At five-thirty, still painfully hard, he put the pictures away and stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers and his glasses. He picked up the bowl and opened the door to his balcony. He stepped out the door and almost dropped the bowl. Three ANBU nins were there in front of him: a tiger, a boar, and a raccoon. A raccoon, like Gaara, and before he thought about it, Shino blurted out, “Not the raccoon.” The ANBU nin in the raccoon mask bowed and vanished.

Shino flushed, aware of his exposed face, his obvious erection. Some of his bugs flew out his arms, his neck, and his upper thighs, making him flush even more. He froze, miserable. But the two nins simply came up to him, gently touching him, turning him around, guiding him through the door. Shino let the tiger take away the bowl while the boar shut the sliding door and drew the curtain across it. When he turned his head to watch the curtain sliding shut, everything went black. Immediately and embarrassingly, a stream of bugs swirled out and whirled through the room.

“Shino-kun, please tell us if you want to stop,” whispered one of them, very close to his ear. He felt his glasses gently removed, even as another pair of hands pulled down his shorts. The hands were naked—how had they gotten those gloves off so fast wondered Shino? Then a mouth sucked in his cock, and he cried out in shock and pleasure, his hands going down and grasping the hair of the ninja kneeling before him. It was thick and short. It wasn’t Hyuuga-san’s. But oh, god, it didn’t matter, it felt good, so good. He couldn’t help it—more and more of his bugs blasted out of his body. He felt the other nin behind him, his hands caressing his upper arms, his body pressing into his back, an erect cock pressing against his ass crack, lips kissing the back of his neck—and that was all it took—with a loud cry he came. The mouth around his cock didn’t move, just sucked and swallowed. The body behind him caught him and held him upright, whispering, “Ah, Shino-kun, so sexy, so beautiful.”

Sexy? Beautiful? Him?

The mouth below pulled away, saying, “So delicious, Shino-kun.”

“I like the taste, too,” he said in dazed voice, and his two lovers laughed—not in a way that mocked him, but a new kind of laughter, a laughter he’d never heard before.

He felt himself swung up into a pair of arms, carried like a bride. He’d never been held like this unless he’d been too injured or drained of chakra to walk. It felt good. He felt good. The ninja below him was better than Kiba—Kiba had been rougher, sloppier, more teeth and tongue and drool. And Kiba—

Kissing. He was being kissed. He had never been kissed like this before. Hinata and he had never used their tongues. And Kiba, well, Kiba was all tongue and drool and wetness. Oh, god, kissing. This was kissing. This was, it was, almost sex. More intimate that sex. Yes, kissing like this was sexual. His mouth was released and then claimed again—oh, god, by the one that had drunk his cum. That familiar taste was in his mouth, and Shino’s cock started to reawaken just a bit. He moaned, squirming, unable to help himself from imagining this was Hyuuga-san kissing him, kissing him after making him spray his cum on his own face, tasting him, making love to him with his tongue. But there was another mouth kissing down his back, down his spine, and man in front of him was rocking his erection into his crotch, stimulating his spent penis, bringing it slowly back to life. Shino’s hand that was trapped under his body moved, straining to reach that penis rubbing into him, and the nin with cum-flavored mouth shifted and let his cock slide into his fingers. Shino’s other hand tighted on a naked hip, his mouth still locked in that glorious kiss. And then the bottom of his spine was reached, but that mouth on his back kept going.

Shino’s head flew back, his back arched, and he cried out as he felt a tongue trail down between his asscheeks to his anus.

“Ah, he likes that,” said the one who had been kissing him.

The tongue circled his anus and then pushed inside. Shino cried out, his hand tightening on the cock he was holding, his own penis now almost fully erect again.

“Ah, Shino-kun! Oh god, so tight!” cried out the one whose cock he was holding.

“I’m sorry, ANBU-san,” said Shino, then cried out incoherently, arching again at the feeling of that tongue sliding in and out of his asshole.

“Call me Tiger-san,” whispered the nin in front of him. “Is this your first rimming?”

“Yes!” cried out Shino arching again.

His mouth was caught in a kiss, and then he found his body being moved even as there was a tongue in his mouth and in his ass. He was half-kneeling, half-lying between Tiger-san’s legs, his head on Tiger-san’s chest, his hair and shoulders being stroked, with a hard cock right under his own chest. His ass was in the air, his legs spread apart, and Boar-san’s mouth was devouring his ass, eating him, tongue-fucking him, making his own cock wiggle and dance, fully aroused once more.

He was being rimmed. Someone was sucking, licking, tongue-fucking his asshole. Well, that was some serious desire. How do you want to do that? It had never even crossed Shino’s mind that people did that. He’d always been worried about his body, the extra holes he had for his bugs to emerge from, but if someone was willing to suck his asshole—well, it was hardly likely they would complain about his hair, his chest, his extra holes. And his bugs—now that he had come, he had no problem controlling them. Most of them were in the other room anyway, almost all of them except those settled in deep. They were calm and controlled, waiting for him to call them back to their home inside him. He didn’t have to worry about his bugs; he could just let himself be loved. Oh, god! The relief that hit him was almost too much, and he felt himself begin to cry. No, no, if he cried, they would stop, they would think he didn’t like it, and how could he explain?

Shino pushed his ass back, pushed his body down, and pushed up with his hands at Tiger-san. He needed cock in his mouth, need to taste it, to lick it, to suck it—cock would save him, cock would keep him from crying, from sobbing, from scaring away these lovers that were transforming him with everything they did.

“Shino-kun?” he heard Tiger-san ask.

“I want COCK,” said Shino, the last word coming out louder as suddenly Boar-san had thrust in a finger his ass. And god, god, he did want cock! Oh, sweet mother of god, someone else’s finger went in so much further than his own—oh, yes, there! And as that finger slid in and out, Shino put his head down and sucked. He hadn’t done this since the last time with Kiba, but he hadn’t forgotten what Kiba had taught him. Ah, god, the taste of pre-cum, of cock, in his mouth. The taste alone ratcheted up his desire and made him begin to move, well, in a way he’d never moved before. He shoved his ass back, his ass muscles clamping around the finger, no the fingers, inside him. Those anal muscles fluttered and contracted, sucking those fingers in backwards. His mouth was moving up and down rapidly on a big, generous cock, a wonderful tasting cock. Shino’s hands moved on the lower half of the cock, his tongue flickered, his throat hummed. He could hear moans, hear his name, and the fingers inside him were scissoring, circling, stretching. He was going to feel cock in him, soon, soon, and taste cum in his mouth, swallow it down his throat. Ah please, yes, please! He needed it, wanted it, had to have it. He needed to know that he could please someone, he could make a cock come with his mouth, with his ass. He might not be good enough for Hyuuga-san, but he could please someone!

“Shino-kun! Shino! Oh, god!” cried out Tiger-san, now bucking up into his mouth, panting heavily, clearly straining not to come.

“Hold it, hold it, let me slide into him before you come!”

“Hurry!”

“Shino-kun, I’m going in, I’m going to fuck you, feel that? That’s my cock at your asshole, little Shino!” Shino pushed back, not stopping his sucking, trying to signal he wanted it. And then, finally, he felt the head of a cock breach him and push in.

“Here, here’s the cock, you wanted!” cried out Boar-san.

Shino thrust back and sucked hard, moaning his pleasure around the cock in his mouth. And that was all it took—Tiger-san came, crying out, “Shino-kun!”

Ahhhh! Cum, that salty, slightly bitter fluid, the taste of sex, the taste of pleasure, the taste of men! Ah, god, yes! Shino suck and swallowed and sucked—cum, cum brought out from those sweet balls by his tongue, his mouth, his hands, cum just for him, inside him! These sounds of pleasure all bought out by him, Aburame Shino! He pulled his head off Tigar-san’s cock as he sensed the end of the shinobi’s orgasm, letting the last spray of sperm cover his face. His head fell down on Tiger-san’s thigh, and he cried out and moaned as Boar-san now began to move in him.

“Do you want this, Shino-kun? Do you want my cock fucking you?” the deeper, rougher voice of the boar asked.

“Yes, Boar-san,” he said.

“Say it then, let us hear that you want this,” ordered that deep voice.

“Please, Shino-kun,” whispered the softer voice of Tigar-san.

“I want your cock to fuck me! Yes, fuck me like that! Shove it inside me!”

“Shove what?”

“COCK! Give me cock!”

And with a growl, Shino got cock—hard, fast, deep cock pounding him, making him cry out incoherently, making him scream as his prostate was hit again and again. It was too much, he couldn’t wait for Boar-san to come, he was being fucked into the mattress, fucked like he’d never been fucked before: harder, deeper, faster. Pounded, nailed, split open, fucked, completely, thoroughly fucked. Fucked so he could feel it in his spine, fucked so it felt like that cock was penetrating him up to the small of his back. Fucked with a cock that slammed in, jerked out, slammed in. Again! Again! Again!

“HYUUGA-SAN!” he screamed as he came wildly, the cum exploding out of him, jet after jet, as if he hadn’t just come less than an hour ago. Even as the cum spilled out of him, he burst into tears, sobbing. But Boar-san let out a loud cry and began to come in him, filling the condom inside him. And Shino couldn’t stop crying, pressing his cum-splattered face into the fuzzy hairs of Tigar-san’s leg, feeling Boar-san’s cock emptying itself and then growing smaller inside him.

But he was lifted, cradled, carried to his shower. In the dark he was washed, held, softly kissed. His hair was combed, his body was dried, he was carried back to a clean bed. And two bodies, two mouths kissed him and licked him; four hands caressed him and stroked him; two voices murmured soothing words to him between those kisses and licks. And then with a mouth on his cock, another on his balls, he forgot his tears, forgot his embarrassing gaff of crying out the name of a man that didn’t love him, that would never love him, forget everything but that he felt good, safe, sexy, wanted. And those talented, talented mouths made him cry out again—cry out wordlessly this time, and once more spill his cum into a willing, warm mouth. Kisses, cum-flavored kisses, caresses, sweet, whispered words, and then he slept, slept and dreamed of Hyuuga-san holding him, caressing him, whispering words of love to him.

When he awoke again, it was dark out, but the dark of a moonlit night, not the pure darkness of a jutsu. He cried again, softly, silently for a little bit. Then he got up to go to the bathroom. Oh, god, he’d been fucked good and hard! Wow, that didn’t feel so good. It was too bad his apartment didn’t have a bathtub, a hot soak would feel good now. Suddenly his stomach started growling, and Shino realized he hadn’t eaten dinner. When he went into the kitchen, he stopped, shocked. In the center of his table was a big vase filled with two dozen roses—a dozen red and a dozen yellow. There was big bowl of fresh fruit. And a plate of expensive pastries. Pastries with a tigers and boars done on them in icing.

Roses, fruit, and pastries?! Wasn’t this supposed to just be about fucking? But as Shino made himself tea, he couldn’t help but smile and blush. My god, he was the one that should be giving them presents—that had been amazing! He’d come three times, not his usual two. And Boar-san had rimmed him! And he’d had two amazing blow jobs! And they’d held him, cared for him--cared for him like a teammate would. They’d let him cry without saying a word of reproof or a single question; they’d washed him and patched up his heart. This—well, this kindness, these flowers, the food--must be because he’d cried. They’d felt sorry for him. But they’d wanted him; they’d enjoyed it. He heard them cry out with pleasure, tasted their cum, felt their orgasms. He, Aburame Shino, had had a threesome!

When he finished his tea and pastry, sniffed his roses and fiddled with the arrangement, Shino contentedly went back to bed. He dreamed of riding a tiger, flying over the landscape with a boar racing by his side, his bugs flying behind him. And when he woke to the sunshine of the morning, he was happier than he’d been in a long, long time.