Dirt on my hands and knees

Dirt on my hands and knees
By eternalshiva

Disclaimer –
I do not own Naruto nor do I make any monies off this Fanfiction. All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto. Perverseness is mine and inspired by Perpetual159.

AN – Here’s chapter two of insert amount! Oh ho ho! This is pretty Ino centric so far but I hope to change that in the next two chapters. Oh, and this fic is getting a little bit more development then just porn. See if you catch my little joke in there, you will get a cookie.

Thank you, Jolly Green and Perpetual159, for the beta. I appreciate it.


Chapter Two
Into the Fire

“Your sweet moving, the smell of you in every single dream I dream
I knew when we collided; you're the one I have decided, who's one of my kind.”
- Trains’ Hey, Soul Sister

Ino's tongue slipped groggily across her teeth. They felt oddly fuzzy from her alcohol abuse. She smacked her lips loudly to test the parched feeling of her mouth and groaned. Her head had a dull throbbing ache that reminded her why she didn't drink to excess on a regular basis.

Ino cracked one eye open, realising far too slowly that she had left the blinds open the previous night. She was greeted by the traitorous sun, showering bright beams of unwanted light in her face. She rolled over, pulling the blankets over her head and burrowed herself deeper into the mattress.

She smiled. Despite the unpleasant start to her morning, Kiba hadn’t changed much. He was still the same old goofy – oddly reliable and annoying, but always fun – guy she had met all those years ago. He was still willing to take on her challenges like an idiot and last night was no different. She giggled at the memory of his little sonnet – a theme song for the evening, or so he had said.

‘Tequila, tequila
Come into my belly -
Tequila, tequila
My lover you'll be.’

The sharp clinks of their shot glasses had set the precedence of the night. The sour taste of lemon and salt still lingered in her mouth. She hadn't even questioned the odd spark when her fingers had brushed against his accidently every once in a while.

She could still see him, glancing over his glass, at first wondering what it was that had him so fascinated, and eventually realising it was her he had been so focused on. There had been something about the way he eyed her, demanding she didn't know what of her, but... she had decided it was best left alone, blaming their heavy alcohol consumption for making her see things.

Consequently, she remembered deciding not to overanalyze his unusual attention, opting instead to drag him from bar to bar while urging him to follow without question.

To her delight, he had – and very willingly, she might add.

She had spent the night clinging to his arm like some fancy damsel. He had indulged her selfishness with a strange accent while opening doors, screwing caps off bottles, calling himself a 'gentleman', and adjusting some invisible monocle as he accepted her gratitude.

As the night drove on, they had both failed to notice how she was whispering too close to his ears, instigating a strange electrifying sensation between the man and woman they pretended not to be. She didn’t know it right then, but she had had the urge to make sure he heard only her, despite the noise around them.

She hadn't told him about the goose bumps that had crawled across her skin when he had put his large hand on the small of her back. He had kept her close when she moved in to tell him about the intricacies of eating the Tequila Worm and its adverse effects on the psyche, and this had only intrigued him into wanting to try it. Her heart had made a strange pitter-patter while his breath tickled the nape of her neck when he told her about his sudden urge to taste it.

For a split second she had thought he meant to taste her, almost bursting out laughing when she realised he had meant the booze soaked worm. In a sheepish and girlish reaction to his proximity and her misunderstanding, she had blushed. He thankfully hadn’t notice; her cheeks had already been tinged pink from their atrocious drinking.

She was shocked to discover she hadn't had the urge to object the invasion of personal space when he had pulled her in between his legs. His goal was to infiltrate the Ino Barricade, intimately whispering his answers to her very personal queries.

It had worked.

She bit her lower lip, abusing it while the events of the evening continued to dribble in at a slow and delicious pace. She sighed as her finger reached up and touched her ear lobe, wondering why the skin still burned after his nose had brushed against it while whispering. She couldn't quite figure out why the deep timbre of his voice had made her quiver so strangely.

Ino groaned. Feeling more than just dazed, she realised she was confused.

She remembered pushing his arms aside at one point to sit on his lap, complaining loudly that there were no bar stools left for her to sit on. The grin he had flashed in response had captivated her. The sharp canines caught the dim light and she didn't hide her heated gaze, letting it linger on his mouth. She had watched his lips move in slow patterns as he drank or spoke, and she had caught herself dallying in a fantasy - wondering what the feel of his canines would be like if they were dragged skilfully against her collar bone.

The sudden intrusion of the image of their sweat drenched bodies under the covers had nearly made her choke on her drink. She had shaken herself from the thought, blinking rapidly, reminding herself that this was Kiba and not a... what was the word?

‘We look like lovers, if you sit on my lap like that.’

Ah yes, lovers. That was the word. She recalled how one arm had gone around her waist to keep her steady on his thigh; how she had leaned her back against his chest using his shoulder as her pillow. She had closed her eyes shamelessly, relishing the feel of his strength against her back - the muscles flexed and rolled as he spoke and the vibrations of his laughter shaking her into a comfortable lull.

'Wouldn’t want to upset your oodles of girls,' she had slurred out jokingly, ignoring the distractions of his body, 'or boys.' She hadn't known which one he preferred, so she decided to have all her bases covered.

He had snorted out an "I'm a woman-only kind of guy," to her satisfaction before taking down another shot.

She had felt his hand squeeze her hip and this too-serious look came over his face. She eyed him; a smirk had escaped her lips when he touched her chin to make her look at him directly.

'I don’t have casual lovers.' His assurance had been clear above the crowd and she had felt relieved for some inexplicable reason. “Like you, Ino, I don’t bother correcting people when they assume things.” She laughed just then.

'Oh? You don't, do you?'

'No. Plus I’m too busy to even think about that shit,' he had taken another shot, the tequila heating his belly. He grinned at her, 'I got my eyes on someone, anyway.' She had missed the heated look, too busy flagging down the bartender at the time. She didn’t broach the subject again for the rest of the night, but his words still burned her mind.

‘Look like lovers, huh?' She had murmured the question to herself. Fortunately, it had been drowned out by the loud and thirsty demands of the club.

‘Don’t pass out!’ he’d teased and handed her another drink. Things got really blurry from there; she could clearly recall various bits and pieces of the passing night. Although, after she got home... well she couldn’t quite put all of those pieces together.

She did remember, however, how some lower rank shinobi had ruined her good mood with questions on her well defined reputation, especially with the way they had brushed aside her dignity with their disgusting invitation back to their place. She did appreciate their shocked expressions when Kiba had crawled up behind her – it had made the discomfort of dealing with those idiots worth every second.

With a heated shiver, she recalled how his body invited hers when it pressed against her ass and how his fingers had whisked her away to the dance floor. Her body had reacted on its own, pressing against him for that split second. She thought he had grinded back in retaliation, but she had chosen to ignore it. She clearly remembered how she laughed as he tried to dance, her mind already forgetting the two shinobi.

He had allowed her to touch him, her fingers licking the exposed flesh of his arms, burning a path, but he never pushed her away. He had nuzzled her when she had wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body close to him, clumsily dancing off beat. His hands had moved up and down her back, flesh against flesh for small fleeting moments. He had made her feel like she was the only one in the room, despite her drunken and selfish behaviour.

At one point, they had stumbled out of the last bar - last call served and forgotten. Ino had giggled and clung to Kiba all the way home, leaning against her ANBU escort, who could barely stand up on his own. She remembered coming home, Kiba still in tow. She recalled trying to get undressed for bed, his fingers helping her out of her wrappings.

‘I don’t think you should do that,’ she had slurred out. Her half-lidded eyes watched him as he knelt before her; grinning while his fingers clumsily unwrapped the linen around her thighs. Each touch, every passing moment sent a strange, but powerful, quiver to the center of her dattebayo.

‘I can do whatever I want,’ he had challenged softly. She had sighed, secretly enjoying the feel of his calloused fingers against the skin of her thighs. She had steadied herself with the use of one hand on his unruly head of hair, and her fingers had flexed, grabbing a clump. He didn’t say anything when she twirled it slowly between her delicate fingers, but she had noticed how he had paused in his attentions and his breathing had slowed – or so she imagined.

‘Careful,’ He had sounded strained, she had noted absent-mindedly while continuing to twirl the coarse thick hair between her delicate fingers, ‘I can’t take much more of this, Ino.’ She remembered frowning before heeding his warning and letting go. It was clear, the warning and the intent of his words, but again, she had chosen to ignore it. The heat on his voice had intrigued her, but she couldn’t comprehend it right then. He had stood up and she still looked irritated.

‘Drop it,’ she had demanded, her gaze lingering over the well defined muscles that flexed. He raised a brow as she leaned against the wall behind her. The room was spinning and he was at the center of the chaos.

‘Drop what?’ he had scratched his ear, genuinely confused at her sudden request.

“The genjutsu!’ She couldn't phantom why he had gone daft - her request seemed obvious.

‘Huh?’

‘For your ANBU uniform, I can’t see the damned thing.’ She had reached for him as he dropped the disguise. He hadn’t had the chance to change before she dragged him out to the bars. She reached around his neck, her fingers prying at the clasps, his own fingers reached up and tried to stop hers.

‘I don’t think you should do that,’ he had warned. Unfortunately, she had missed the dangerous glint in his eyes. She had leaned in further and he stiffened when her lips accidently brushed his neck, the feel of his hands gripping her wrists...

Her eyes snapped open.

'Oh shit!'

She sat up quickly and peeled the blankets off her body in a rush. She blinked as the sunlight played off the shimmer of her silk sleeping shirt. She had no bottoms on, but her panties were still intact. She reached up and grumbled, realising that her pony tail was undone - the tangles would be monumental and she wasn't sure her brush would be up to the task. To her relief, after further inspection, she concluded that there was no sign she’d taken him to bed.

A weight shifted next to her causing her to freeze and her eyes to widen in panic - Oh god! She did take him to bed! What would she say? How could she explain or reason her irrational behaviour? This was completely mortifying. The weight shifted again and she held a breath, waiting for the snarky cackle of his intoxicating laugh.

Akamaru’s head popped up from under the blankets and woofed softly at her. She blinked in surprise, wondering how the dog had gotten in her bed. She almost laughed – or cried, she couldn't decide exactly what she wanted to do just then besides flop back into her bed and cuddle the large smelly animal.

"Good morning, Akamaru." She grinned at the mutt, who licked her face in greeting. She petted him and frowned. She didn’t remember how she got to bed or what happened after she took off the ANBU plates off Kiba.

A soft snore from the other room startled her.

She carefully stood up. A wave of nausea struggled to keep her down, but she pushed her discomfort aside and unsteadily headed towards her bedroom door.

Why was it shut?

Akamaru woofed again and disappeared under the blankets and she rolled her eyes at the lazy animal. ‘Probably gets that from Kiba.’ She wouldn’t doubt it. She pulled her door open and stepped out. She didn’t seen any–

Her foot caught something warm and she let out a terrible sound; a mix between a scream and a gasp. Kiba sat up suddenly, alarmed by the sudden noise and the loud thump of Ino’s body hitting the cold hardwood.

“What the fuck?” he mumbled sleepily. Ino rolled over onto her back and stayed there on the floor. She took a calming deep breath before sitting up. Kiba blinked at her and scratched his head in wonder as he smacked his lips together, his mouth parched.

“What are you doing here, Ino?”

She raised a brow, pressed her index and middle finger against her temple and sighed. “You’re in my house, Kiba. I should be asking you what are you doing sleeping on the floor,” she pointed to her couch,” when I have a perfectly good couch right there.”

Kiba frowned; Akamaru strolled out of Ino’s bedroom, barked once and licked his face in greeting. ‘Oh, right,’ he thought as the memory came trickling in.

‘Akamaru,’ Kiba had pushed the dog into Ino’s room after helping her into bed and tucking her in. He had been too drunk to think clearly and was positive he’d misread all her hints and the things she had suggested, ‘do not let me come in here. No matter what.’ The dog had barked and nodded to his master before Kiba shut the door behind him.

He scratched his head again, gave Ino a lop-sided grin and shrugged. “Well, I guess I was too drunk to really make it to the couch.” This wasn’t a complete lie. He had decided to sleep at her door just to be a little closer to her and make sure he wasn’t tempted to stroll in there and accept her invitation, and for some reason, he had decided that the little carpet was better than her soft couch. Maybe it was the fact he’d been sleeping on hard, uncomfortable forest grounds for months, watching her.

Who knew what his reasons were? Despite the fact they were forged in drunken logic, he wasn’t about to tell her any of this – she'd kill him.

It dawned on him that Ino had this strange look on her face while he had spent several silent minutes debating what he should reveal to the blonde.

“Let’s go get breakfast. I feel like eating some pancakes.” He perked up before she could ask more questions. He let the blanket slip down from his chest and stood up, forgetting that she had managed to strip him down to only his pants. Ino blushed, looked away and focused on Akamaru who was diligently waiting to be let out at the door.

“We... We didn’t...?” she stammered. Kiba looked down and laughed as it dawned on him she recalled some of the more embarrassing things she had done.

“No, we didn’t,” he reassured her as he bent down and reached his hand out to her to help her up.

“Although, you did try your dandiest... it was cute.” He grinned and successfully ducked a petite, deadly fist.

* * *

"I'll catch you later, Ino."

She waved him off as he turned to walk out into the crowd of the market with Akamaru in tow. She was distracted momentarily by the dog's wagging tail and the loud excited bark as he greeted some kunoichi that called out to the dog ninja. Ino pressed her lips together. She felt a strange pang of resentment when one of the girls reached out to Kiba and touched his arm, and she rolled her eyes and shook her head wondering what exactly her problem was.

Breakfast had been ... interesting, to say the least. She had been at complete ease with him – their conversation always flowing with no uncomfortable silences. She had promised to meet him later and he had roped her into spending pretty much all of her free time with him until he was dragged back into work. She had questioned his motives at first, only to be gracefully denied the satisfaction of a straight answer. So, after much deliberation and unsuccessful threatening glares, she had agreed, much to Kiba's glee.

She didn't know what his plans were, but he had claimed it was going to be worth her time. He was just lucky that Shikamaru and Chouji were out on a mission of their own – or so her sceptical side argued. It's not that she wanted to be the center of Kiba's attention – or so she said to herself – it was to avoid having to put up with all his whining about the boredom of vacation.

He had even threatened to find her, no matter where she was in the village, just to grace her with his presence and bore her to tears with the monotonous reports of his lonesome and boring days with Akamaru. She'd rather die a painful gruesome and slow death.

In exchange, she did make him promise that they would train – she needed to stay active. He had nearly lost an eye when she flicked her fork his way no thanks to a crude comment on the side effects of food and her ‘sensitive’ metabolism. The man had balls, she had to admit, to be so rude with her. She was an assassin in her own right, even if he was her shadow.

Her shadow...

That whole revelation last night had left a sour taste in her mouth. She had always pictured herself alone on these missions. She had seduced her way through each one of them; put aside all notions of her own identity to become a persona the mission required for success. She felt slight embarrassment knowing that someone from her childhood had seen her in several positions, let alone under the fake pleasures of the enemy.

She sighed. That was one kettle of fish she wasn't ready to tackle – at least not yet. She knew Kiba was aware of what her job was and how she had to go about it, but for some reason it bothered her. She wasn't one to care for other people's opinions; she had purged herself a long time ago of any guilt for her decisions. Kiba still looked at her with the same respect, still treated her as a comrade of equal worth. She didn't need to be wary of his opinion nor should she give two shits what he thought.

He was her shadow; he knew everything there was to know about her. There was no need for her to fret over what he thought or what he believed he knew about her. Ino narrowed her eyes at no one in particular, her lips pressed together again and she squared her shoulders. If he knew so damned much about her, she would take this opportunity to know everything about the little bastard.

She pushed open the door to the public baths. A new goal was twirling inside her brain and she felt rejuvenated despite the fact that she smelled like day old booze. Before the door could enclose her inside the building, she looked over her shoulder. Kiba had disappeared into the crowd and the two women had moved on to the next sale - and for some strange reason, she looked forward to seeing the knucklehead later that night and every day after that.

* * * * * * * *

“Ready?”

Ino watched Kiba enter her home. She narrowed her eyes lightly at the sudden intrusion but disregarded the fact that once again, she hadn’t sensed him close to her; he was far too quiet.

“Almost,” her voice drifted from the confines of the bathroom. Kiba looked around her apartment. He’d been here several times over the years, but the atmosphere had changed drastically. It held less and less “Ino” to the place. The walls seemed bare, the paint stale – even the air was barely palatable.

“What’s with the lack of decorations?” he piped up, far from fearing for his life. Ino poked her head out of the bathroom and scrunched up her face in irritation. It didn’t faze him.

“I’m barely ever here,” she disappeared again inside the small room, “plus I’m gone for months at a time with missions. It’s pointless to make this place anything more than a sleeping quarter.”

Her voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Kiba didn’t push for more; the last thing he wanted was to get into an argument with the fiery blonde over something trivial like “you need some curtains, and maybe some plants to liven up the place.”

He shrugged, looking away from the blandness of her walls to the bathroom entrance. She stepped out and his breath hitched. She wasn’t dressed dazzling, as one would expect her to, but the simplicity of her ensemble was beautiful. He shot her a winning smile, which caused her to give him a suspicious look while crossing her arms against her chest and snorting; instantly destroying the image of a refined woman.

He should have known better. Ino was suspicious by nature, especially with him. There were too many secrets between them and he knew he had to be honest with her if he wanted to get closer to her. She was teetering on a fine line - systematically cutting herself off from everyone around her - and he was determined to stop her self-destruction.

When had it changed from solely protecting her to loving her? He wasn’t quite sure, but watching her thrive through the ranks of the best Shinobi at the cost of her humanity had set something in motion for him.

He wasn’t expecting her to forgive him once he came clean. Hell, he expected a beating and hoped that in due time she would forgive him for his selfishness. He hadn’t originally wanted to tell her everything, but Kiba knew that she would eventually figure it all out on her own anyway now that she was suspicious.

Besides, what kind of man was he if he couldn’t even tell the woman he cherished the truth from his own lips?

“I’m ready.” She stepped past him out her door and he quickly followed, oddly subdued with a lump of fear nestled deep into his belly. She gave him a sidelong glance; her curiosity was gnawing at the back of her mind as to why he was so gentleman-like.

“I was thinking we could eat something a little different tonight.” There was a strange quiver in his husky voice.

‘Nerves?’ she wondered to herself, not sure how she should handle his weirdness. He was avoiding her eyes, and his step was quick and uneven.

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” she asked, not bothering to hide her suspicion from her tone of voice. She could almost feel him swallow hard. She continued to look ahead while he soundlessly fell into step next to her.

“I’m in the mood for some meat,” he said, as though lost in thought.

Her fingers tightly wound themselves around his elbow as she hummed in agreement and let him lead the way. She suppressed the urge to frown when she felt the tension under her finger tips. The usual lean muscle was stiff, incompliant. He was fidgety; his body language screamed his insecurity.

“What’s the matter?” Her question struck through the air like shattering glass. “You’re acting strange.”

“Am I?” He feigned innocence, and she saw through, pinching the flesh of his arm between her fingers. He squirmed, even yelped like a pup before she stopped and he grinned. Nervous laughter escaped his mouth and filled her with a strange sense of sadness. What was he hiding from her?

“Ah, I’d rather wait until after this date,” he reassured her.

She narrowed her eyes and humphed lightly. “This isn’t a date, Inuzuka.”

“Maybe,” he drawled out strangely, uncertainty still laced his words.

His change of subject indicated that he wasn’t going to go further into the matter and she begrudgingly complied.

“Here we are.” He pushed open the entrance flap of the restaurant and led her in. She would get it out of him, even if it cost her a notch of dignity. Little did she know, it would throw everything she knew about Kiba and their odd relationship out the window.

* * *

TBC - R&R
Did you get my little joke? Hope it was like a bucket of ice water down your pants, my fellow pervs! =D