Constructive Possession

A/N: Despairs, I would like to thank you for the kind words of your review. If I have to spitball it, though, I’d say that no matter how well-written it may be, very few who solicit this site will bother to read, much less review a Naruto fic if the primary pairing isn’t Naruto and/or Sasuke in some capacity. I choose to write the dark horse Genius Ship, and that is the unfortunate consequence. So I’ll take whatever I can get, with gratitude.

Many thanks to all my reviewers. Your support is appreciated.

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Warning: unbeta’d; language; implied alcohol abuse; het; yaoi

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Increasing light against his eyelids brought Kiba slowly back to consciousness. He opened his eyes carefully, squinting. Sunlight. Then all at once, his head throbbed, his nose got wind of something foul, and his stomach lurched painfully.

Kiba’s warm vomit joined the puddles of vomit that had been mostly absorbed by his carpet overnight.

“Gods”, the hung-over man whispered. Kiba tried to push himself up to a sitting position. It was a painstaking process. His stomach hurt and his head throbbed. Every limb on his body shook. His heart was beating in double time. And he was sweating.

Need a shower. Kiba slowly opened his eyes again. He found himself on the floor in his living room. It was morning. His television was on, the sound blaring, though Kiba could hardly tell. The sound of his adrenalized blood rush filled his ears.

Stinks…stinks. Kiba made a face at the taste that coated the inside of his mouth. He lifted a shaky hand to move his hair from his face and found his hair matted by his vomit. Kiba made another face at the feel of that hair in his hand.

Kiba was sitting, fully dressed in his uniform, in the large puddle of vomit on his living room floor where he had apparently spent the night.

It was a bad scene.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kiba did nothing for a long time. He simply sat, observing in silence how his mouth was becoming drier, while he watched the images flash across his television screen. He was still shaking and he could feel drops of sweat running down his back beneath his shirt.

Kiba knew he hadn’t recovered from a bender like this in a long time. In his line of work, it simply wasn’t practical to drink too often. He worked with very large, well-trained police dogs. It was the kind of specialization that required a clear head all the time. While on duty Kiba didn’t only have to deal with perpetrators; he also had to deal his with four-legged comrades. The animals were his responsibility, and it was one he took seriously.

Kiba thought back to the day before. He remembered the conversation he’d had with the shift commander, and the order to go on paid leave for two weeks. He remembered stopping at the package store for liquor—while in uniform!—and then at Subway™ for food. He remembered coming back to his quiet, unkempt apartment, and of sitting alone at his small dining room table—Subway™ foot-long in one hand, bottle of Four Roses™ bourbon in the other. Kiba remembered scarfing the first half of the sandwich, then idling over to his living room to vegetate in front of his television. It was there that he entered his null void, not thinking, simply watching.

His day went on uneventfully. Kiba watched the television, flipping the channels arbitrarily and occasionally getting up to go to the bathroom.

Eventually it had become dark. Usually Kiba went to happy hour with the guys in the K-9 squad after their shift on Friday night, but he didn’t feel like answering anymore questions. Kiba’s cell phone wasn’t ringing, which most likely meant that everyone he worked closely with knew. The thought made him want to drink, so he walked over to the dining room to retrieve his bottle of bourbon.

Kiba plopped back down on his couch and opened the bourbon. He turned the bottle up to his lips as he flipped the channels again, putting them both down on the table and ignoring the way the bourbon burned his face and throat at the sight of two men on the screen who looked as though they were about to fight.

The two men stood there, breathing heavily, staring into each other’s eyes.

Then, without warning, they reached for each other and kissed passionately.

Kiba’s eyes grew wide.

What is this show¹? Kiba thought. He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. The two men kissed and pawed each other hungrily, before the shorter man broke the kiss and then punched the taller man in the face. Thus began their actual brawl.

The entire scene occurred in one minute. Kiba wanted to see more. He reached for the remote to find out what he was watching when the realization hit him. Men. Kissing. Brawling. Sexy. More. More.

More.

Kiba slid his other hand over his lap. He wasn’t half-hard—oh, no.

He was fully hard and his cock jumped.

That’s when Kiba stood up and screamed.

It’s the last thing the Inuzuka remembered.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kiba didn’t want to remember that moment, but he couldn’t stop himself. So there he sat, remembering the way his body reacted to the sight of two tall, handsome men passionately kissing each other on the television; remembering another tall, handsome man and his slightly shorter, handsome partner and their handsome, sunny blond friend—and a tear fell once again.

Kiba didn’t move. He simply sat there, crying.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Shikamaru opened his eyes. It had actually become chilly in the cabin, and he could feel it on the front of his body. Behind him lay Neji, keeping Shikamaru’s backside warm by contrast. Even in sleep, Neji covered his partner. The thought made the Nara smile.

“Neji”, Shikamaru called out.

Neji stirred, grunting something unintelligible.

“Neji”, the Nara called out again.

Neji opened his eyes. His Shikamaru was lying in front of him.

“Are you all right?” Neji asked him.

“I’m cold”, was what the Hyuuga heard in response.

Before Shikamaru knew what was happening, he was flat on his back beneath his lover, who was kissing him lazily on his neck.

“Would you like me to warm you up, Shikamaru?” Neji asked him between lazy kisses.

“Actually”, the Nara responded, “I was just thinking you could tell me where to find an extra blanket so I could lie in bed a little longer.”

Neji chuckled. “I’m all the blanket you need, Nara”, Neji responded, kissing his lover on the mouth.

Shikamaru returned his affection before breaking the kiss. “Neji”, he told him, “I’m leaking from my ass. The bed is a mess. Neither of us have eaten today and—“

Neji interrupted Shikamaru’s rant with another kiss. “We’ll take care of that later.”

“We won’t if you keep fucking me into a short-term coma. Seriously Neji, I’m worn out. I need more rest.”

The way you beg, if you’re not comatose after I’ve fucked you then my work isn’t done. Neji’s response was to grind his erection into Shikamaru’s, who groaned at the contact. “Seriously, Shikamaru,” he responded in that voice, “you’ll need more rest either way.”

Neji kissed his lover again, grinding him harder into the mattress beneath them. Was it being on the yacht? Was it their confrontation with Oslo? Was it Shikamaru’s confession of love? Neji wasn’t sure. All he understood was that he needed to spend as much of the time they were together on his uncle’s yacht as possible buried deeply in his lover’s ass and making him scream.

“You may not be able to revive me”, Shikamaru breathed between eager kisses. There was no point in arguing anymore. Neji was right. Getting the rest would be pointless if they were going to remain in this cycle.

Which, it seemed, if Shikamaru’s erection was any indication, they were.

“I’ll take my chances”, was the last non-naughty statement the Hyuuga made for awhile.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was the afternoon.

Tenten Kire awoke from her sleep. She sat up, pushing her long brown tresses away behind one ear with her hand, and looked around. Everything was as it should have been.

She got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. She wore a white tank top and white sleeping pants on her slender frame.

Tenten’s apartment was a tiny place, large enough for only one person and well equipped for the one who lived in it. There was a small living room strategically designed for socializing; a tiny kitchen stocked with only the healthiest fare; a tiny bathroom with a tiny bathtub that was mostly used for showering; and a tiny bedroom, large enough for one person, her bed, her desk, her closet and an array of weapons.

Oh, there were firearms. That was easy. She was a detective on the Konoha police force—she was licensed to carry a firearm. There were never less than five loaded firearms either on her person or in her car in some combination. And in her home? There were firearms strategically positioned throughout the tiny apartment; only she knew where. Her life was like that.

But there were other weapons as well—Tenten owned retractable blowguns, shurikens, Bowie knives, darts, needles and plain old pocket knives. And in her short life of 27 years, she had managed to find occasion to use all of them.

Tenten Kire discovered, quite by accident and at a very young age, that she could aim for the center of a target and hit it every time. She didn’t find it peculiar at first; then as time advanced, she realized that she had a rare talent. Years of being thought of as the pretty cheerleader with no brain compelled her to put her skill to use, and she decided to enter the police academy after graduation.

The Kire was pretty, athletic, and handy with a weapon, no matter how rudimentary. Not surprisingly, it garnered her much attention. This pleased the Kire, because she enjoyed being the center of attention. Before long, Tenten was taken under the wing of a certain police Lieutenant. It was under that man’s tutelage that she turned her skills as a markswoman into a gift that often made the difference between life and death.

Tenten began her career on patrol, and then worked her way through the ranks to detective. When it was determined that her skill as a markswoman was invaluable to the force, she was awarded the designation of Elite Force. She was then assigned to a ‘hit squad’. This squad was often assigned their duties from much higher-ranking members of the police department than those with whom they interfaced on a daily basis. It meant that the nature of their tasks was always secret. Many members of the night watch did not even know of the existence of the squad. And not even her shift commander--who had been the Lieutenant who mentored her--was made privy to the details.

In short, Tenten Kire was an assassin--for the good guys.

Maintaining her loyalty came at cost, however. Tenten demanded lots of attention, and since her mentor was now her shift commander, it made sense that he should be the one to keep tabs on her. Not surprisingly, her shift commander did his best work undercover.

Under her covers, that is.

It wasn’t uncommon to find Tenten going at it with her shift commander after their shift ended. Some days, work was just slow and they both had extra energy to burn off. Few, if any others, knew of their affair. They both did their part to keep it under wraps, but it wasn’t easy. Tenten had devoted nine years of her existence to her job, and to the man who trained her. She was beautiful and she was one of the best. She wanted her prize: to become the wife of her mentor, the shift commander.

Unfortunately, her shift commander was married to his work. As tantalizing as Tenten Kire was, she hadn’t managed to convince him to get that particular divorce.

Things had come to a head for them recently when her shift commander had elected to mentor another female officer. Her name was Tayuya and she, too had an interesting gift. The pretty strawberry blond could recreate the tones on a keypad flawlessly using a variety of musical instruments.

Tenten didn’t like the amount of time the shift commander had begun to devote to Tayuya. What’s more, the Kire suspected that the woman, whom as far as she was concerned only had one-fifth of her talent, had been earmarked to be designated as Elite Force as well.

No fucking way.

Tenten confronted her shift commander, informing him of her feelings and giving him an ultimatum.

His response was to take her to bed.

To be fair, it was an effective response. Her shift commander was a big, hulking man. He was very strong and extremely well endowed. In fact, Tenten was certain she’d never seen an endowment like that on anything else that didn’t actually have four legs. It was hard to pout about not getting an answer to your ultimatum when you were repeatedly blacking out from the intensity of your orgasms.

So the Kire had tried another method: find another man to make her shift commander jealous. There were plenty of other fish in the sea, right? And Tenten was a beautiful woman. Given that, it wasn’t surprising that she’d garnered the attention of a wealthy, handsome older lawyer, and without much effort. He’d said and done all the right things to make her swoon, and swoon she did! She was all but ready to accept a wedding proposal before she was unceremoniously dumped. The guy pulled a 180 so fast Tenten didn’t know what was happening!

The Kire was furious. She had attracted yet another man into her life whom she could not control, at least not without using deadly force. Well, this time, she decided, she was not going down without a fight. She was going to find that lawyer, and use him to convince her shift commander to change his tune. She was going to get her prize.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Kire was in the vigorous process of brushing her back teeth when she heard her doorbell ring. She stopped, looking at her reflection in the medicine cabinet’s mirror. She knew who it was on the other side of the door. Damn him. Tenten really was trying to avoid him. How long had it been—two days? Two days since that amazing ‘experiment’ in his apartment.

She’d been doing gymnastics since the age of three, and she’d never seen a balance beam jerry-rigged that way. He’d obviously done that just for her.

Tenten spit toothpaste into the sink and dropped her toothbrush there before reaching for a towel to wipe her mouth. As she cleaned herself she walked to the door.

The doorbell rang again just as she moved to unlock the two locks on the door. She opened the door wide.

There, on the other side, stood a very big, very handsome, very sexy police captain.

“Afternoon, gorgeous”, Captain Asuma Sarutobi greeted the beautiful brunette.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tenten made a face at that greeting. “What do you want?” She asked him.

It was Asuma’s turn to make a face now. “After Thursday afternoon—and last night—you ask me that?”

Tenten blushed. She had forgotten about last night! Damn the man and his tactics; her brain was like oatmeal! She turned away from the door, walking back to the bathroom. “Then why not visit Tayuya?” she asked over her shoulder.

Asuma chuckled as he entered the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. Tayuya was a beautiful officer with excellent potential, but she preferred women. That was obvious to everyone but Tenten, who was apparently so jealous she couldn’t see it.

“Because I’m here with you, gorgeous”, he responded, making his way toward Tenten.

He found her in the bathroom tidying up. “I don’t have time for your shit today, Sarutobi”, she declared without looking at him.

“I didn’t come here to give you shit, Kire”, he responded. “I wish you’d stop being so pig-headed.”

She looked at him with an expression that would have killed him if her eyes were anything more than just eyes. “I’m not the one who is being pig-headed!” The Kire shoved past her lover and out of the bathroom.

“Tenten—“ Asuma called after her but she interrupted him, turning.

“Nine years of my loyalty and you won’t even discuss a commitment? He we two are, with no spouses, no children, and—and you’re just fine with that?”

“No, I’m not. Tenten, we’ve been over this—“

“Oh, spare me your family legacy bullshit! So your brother died defending the town and left your young nephew without a father, and your father died defending the town². That’s life in this business, Asuma. You knew that when you followed in their footsteps! You don’t have the right to use that as an excuse to not commit to me!”

“Don’t preach to me about my rights, Tenten. You go too far.”

She approached him then, and he tensed a little. He had trained her himself to be quite handy with a variety of tactical equipment. There was no telling when or if she would strike in anger, to say nothing of how.

“I would die with you. I would die for you, Asuma.” Tenten placed a hand on the Sarutobi’s chest. “Don’t you know that?”

Asuma placed the beautiful woman in a loose embrace and sighed. “I don’t want you to die to prove your love, Tenten. I want you to live. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Because that’s not what this business is about. We must be willing to die so that others can live. What you ask of me you have no right to ask. You may as well be telling me to switch careers.”

“Maybe you could consider it.”

Tenten stilled. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Not at all”, was Asuma’s calm response. “Tenten, this isn’t a life for a woman with your vigor. I can’t deny your ability is exceptional, but—“

POW! Asuma had forgotten how fast she was with her fist—or how hard she could punch. His head jerked from the force, and he immediately moved to block the next swing, which was certainly coming.

“YOU SHIT! YOU HAVE THE UNMITIGATED GALL TO COME HERE AND TELL ME THAT I SHOULD BECOME A FUCKING SECRETARY—“

“Tenten that isn’t what I said, you’re putting words in my mou—“

“LIAR! BASTARD! FUCKING COW—“

“ENOUGH!” Asuma bellowed. He pushed the frenzied woman against the wall and pinned her there with his large body.

They stood there for long moments, panting, their hearts beating in sync. Tenten couldn’t help but be torn between the urge to grab the man and kiss him and to scratch his eyes out. Her hands were both pinned above her head, so the latter was, for the moment, out of the question.

“You make me sick”, she declared between clenched teeth.

Asuma chuckled. He knew that she knew she’d already lost this argument. His cock was hard from their struggle, and there was no way she couldn’t feel it. In fact, her body was squirming, as if it had its own will, into position to accommodate the burgeoning thing.

“Is that why you’re rubbing yourself against me? Because I make you sick?”

Tenten struggled more, but the fight was being siphoned from her by the feel of that cock pressed against her body. “Go to hell.”

“I’m in hell, Tenten-kitty. Right where you want me.”

“Fuck you, Asuma Sarutobi.”

Asuma smiled. He always enjoyed this part of their foreplay.

“We’ll get these pants off that sweet little ass, and you can fuck me for the rest of the day.” The Sarutobi leaned in against the Kire’s ear. “How does that sound?” he purred.

Tenten squirmed, sighing in defeat. No matter how she fought or resisted, it always came down to this. No one could make her feel the way Asuma did. She thought she might find vindication in the arms of Hiashi Hyuuga, but who was she kidding? Even if she managed to get the lawyer where she wanted him—and she hadn’t given up on that option, some portion of her mind supplied—Asuma would always be around in some capacity. There was no getting around it.

Tenten Kire closed her eyes. She could already feel how wet she was and man, was she throbbing there. “Hurry up”, she told him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N:

(1) That was an infamous scene from an episode of Torchwood (one of many, I grant you). If you haven’t seen it and you’d like to, check it out on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-v0szrB5nB8. Trust me, it’s every bit as hot as Kiba thought it was!

(2) I took a cue from Nymbis’ Legacy for Asuma’s back-story. http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4120881/1/Legacy

So…Asuma and Tenten, eh? The plot, as it were, thickens. I’m not going to expand that lemon; this portion of the story only exists to provide the appropriate back-story for Hiashi and Tenten. Stay tuned and please leave a review!