Dark Musings and Secrets in Konoha

This is the first fanfic I've ever actually finished, so I'm sort of excited. ^_^ Please leave me a review and tell me what you thought of it! I hope you all like it as much as I liked writing it.

Edit: Due to good reviews, my friend's demanding, and a kind muse, this one shot will be continued. Thank you all for inspiring me to write more! The original title of the story was "Dark Musings", but since I'm adding more chapters I've changed the title to "Dark Musings and Secrets in Konoha". I'll update when I get inspired for another chapter - until then, my muse likes reviews.

This chapter = Sasuke x Shikamaru

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Naruto. A very cool man named Masashi Kishimoto does, and I hope I won't be sued for doing bad things with his awesome characters.

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There was blackness when I opened my eyes, but that didn't disorient me. It was strange to be staring up where the ceiling would be and see nothing, but I suppose it didn't matter when there were more pressing matters at hand. Literally. I could feel his hands on my body, tugging my pants down in a darkness I knew he could see in, but I couldn't. I felt vulnerable, but then again, doesn't everyone when they're mostly naked in front of someone they don't know exceedingly well?

I forgot that for a moment when I heard him growl when my pants didn't come off easily. Maybe he should have pulled off my shoes first, or maybe I should have kicked them off. The whole thing was troublesome. When I heard the cloth rip, I winced - I liked those pants, and my mother was going to bitch at me when she saw the shoddy stitch job I would have to do on them. I almost stated my displeasure of the whole situation when I felt his hands on my body again.

It was getting hard to concentrate at that point, especially when he leaned over me and I could feel his breath on my neck - warm air in the cold room that sent a shiver down my spine. My fingers dug into the sheets he leaned down and bit my nipple, and by that point it wasn't possible to feign disinterest as I had been doing - the way he made me arch up against him was only a testament of how he was controlling my traitorous body. This was so much different than anything I'd experienced before - this was raw and powerful and I could almost feel myself getting drunk on the lustful chakra permeating the air. My fingers combed through his hair and I groaned when he pushed my legs apart.

Why was I in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar house with hands that were becoming all to familiar ravaging my body - a body that had never been ravaged before? I'd had my kicks with Ino; she squealed delightfully, but even at our roughest there was never this. Even Chouji was so much different, and as animalistic as Kiba was, there was something missing from that. Something that this had retained, and as much as I tried to analyze the situation I couldn't bring my brain to concentrate long enough to figure out why. Maybe it was just the way his raw power seemed to seep out of his pours and infect my senses - power I could only match in intelligence, and never in strength.

I'd asked him why he picked me - a proposition that left no room for escape, lest he decide my answer wasn't relevant and take what he wanted anyway. He had grabbed my hair roughly and whispered into my ear that he didn't want to "fuck a fuck up," as he put it, and the way his teeth closed on my earlobe after breathing those words to me had left me weak in both my knees and my mind. I was a genius, and that's why he wanted to do something so animalistic and unintelligent as this with me? I would have expected that from Kiba, but not him.

Pressure was the first thing I felt, then the pain as he shoved a finger inside me, and I almost bit my tongue when I clenched my jaw to avoid groaning. My hand tightened painfully in his hair, and I swore he snarled at me when I didn't immediately let go. I finally released the grip when I felt his breath against my hipbone, reassuring but exhilarating at the same time. There was no way to hide my panting, and I couldn't hold back the moan when his hand wrapped around the painful hard-on I'd had since he told me - no. Ordered me to take off my shirt. He shoved his finger into me deeper, forcing my hips to twitch up and shove myself into his hand. I tried to steady my breath, but it wouldn't steady.

"Don't worry," he whispered in my ear, and I could feel my balls tighten when I realized I hadn't felt him move. "You can scream," he continued, sliding his finger out of me before it wriggled its way back into the place no finger ought to be. I was just about to protest to his words when he bit my earlobe and reminded me that even if I screamed, no one would hear me. There was something so incredibly, masochistically wrong with me when I could feel my pulse behind my ears and I knew I just got that much harder by the fact that no matter what he wanted to do to me, there would be no one to rescue me if I screamed.

When he pulled away from me, I shivered from the sudden bite of the cold air in the room - I hadn't felt the chill with him on top of me, and it gave me a moment to pant quietly as I lay on his sheets. I tried to collect my thoughts - my eyes weren't adjusting to the dark for some reason. All I could see were the pinprick lights of imaginary stars as my brain made up its own images in absence of input. I couldn't even remember what color his sheets were, and I had a feeling he'd kick me outside before I got to look. After a few minutes of listening to him rummage around his pockets and drawers, I was sure I'd have a moment to relax. It was a short lived moment, for just as I was about to sit up, I felt the edge of the bed cave downwards as he crawled up to me. Whatever he was looking for had been found, and I had a feeling I would not rest until he had his fill of me.

Maybe I was being too analytical of the whole situation. When I heard the sounds that were suspiciously familiar to the unscrewing of a small bottle, I knew I was thinking too much. I ought to be panting and begging for more - but maybe he knew I wouldn't do that. At that point, I wasn't sure what he wanted me to do, and I suppose that's what made me more nervous when I felt his fingers swipe the cold cream over where they had been invading only minutes earlier. I was about to roll over - Kiba was the best comparison I could use to how he was acting, and I figured it would be how he wanted to do this, but to tell the truth I wasn't all that surprised when I felt him push my shoulder back down against the bed and told me to stay put. I couldn't imagine him getting away with that with many of the other shinobi we knew - maybe he liked how lazy I am. Maybe he just liked something about me that I'll never understand - or maybe it was that I probably wouldn't fight back when he did what he wanted to do.

I shifted on the bed, and it wasn't but a moment longer until he was maneuvering my legs onto his shoulders and his cock was pressing up against the last bastion of my dignity. Even if I was used to being on the receiving end, I'd never imagined it would be with him - he seemed so uninterested in everyone around him, I supposed I never ran through the possibilities because it seemed impossible. Wasn't I, however, the one who got a pinch-hitter during the most improbable of situations?

This wasn't like that in the slightest, though, and I knew that when I felt the head of his cock pressing into me slowly - the slowest he'd done anything so far. He was generous on the lube, thankfully, and I didn't feel too much pain other than the pressure of being stretched. The pain wasn't bad and I realized his shaft was more slender than I'd originally suspected - the length more than made up for that. I'm sure Ino would be more than pleased to hear that piece of information - as if I'd actually tell her about what happened tonight. Actually, to me, I figured that after he kicked me out into the night, I'd pretend these interactions between us had never happened.

My throat was dry - it felt raw when I swallowed and the cold air gave me no relief when I gulped it in. His hands were resting on my knees and he panted, trying to catch his breath. I shifted, and pulled myself up a little, but he hunched over me and pinned me down before I could move much. It was almost uncomfortable, being nearly folded in half like that with my thighs pressed down against my stomach, but comfort was the least of my worries. Especially how his hands had somehow found my wrists and had pinned them above my head on the bed, with my hands uncomfortably crammed against the headboard. It took me a moment to realize that only one of his hands were holding both of mine, but the question I wanted to wonder about next was already answered when I felt his hand wrap around my cock. I deemed it not necessary to wonder how exactly he was touching me like that with how we were pressed together, though I did have a fleeting questioning thought of where exactly he'd learned to give a hand job like that.

The muscles in my legs twitched every time the rough pad of his thumb pressed up the underside of my cock and slid against the head, and I was feeling much closer to release that I really wanted to. It didn't help when he finally got settled in and started thrusting roughly into me - with each thrust, I was trying to hold back a groan that somehow slipped through my red, bitten lip. He buried his mouth against my neck, and for a moment I might be safe. That thought was quickly dispelled when his teeth found purchase in the fleshy muscle between my neck and shoulder, and I almost screamed with the sudden, vicious pain that he inflicted on me. All that came out was a choked cry, and when he heard that he didn't hesitate in biting just a bit harder.

It felt wet where he was biting me, and I didn't wonder whether it was blood or just saliva - I was too busy crying out each time he shoved into me and after one such thrust, he decided to re-angle his hips just a little bit. The next time his cock pushed into me I did scream - I couldn't hold back the overwhelming pleasure when he finally hit the spot he'd been looking for since he'd gotten my pants off. He didn't seemed satisfied, and when his hand clenched painfully around my cock in a way that hurt horribly, but still felt amazingly good, I couldn't decide which feeling was more overwhelming when I screamed again. My very senses of pleasure and pain were being screwed with in a way I wasn't even sure one of Konoha's top torturers would be able to pull off. As much as I wanted to regret ever running into him on the streets earlier, I couldn't. Not with his cock buried inside me like that, and not with his hand performing ministrations that no other lover I'd ever had would be able to pull off.

The chakra coming off of him was suffocating, and every time I cried out or screamed, I found it harder and harder to take in another breath to do so again. It only got worse the closer I was to coming in his hand, and when I almost reached the edge I would tumble over into my climax, I felt him let go of my shoulder. His hand tightened around my cock again, jerking up half the length in a way that was making me want to cry when he breathed in my ear again. I felt him tense up, and he choked out a command to me as he was about to come that made me shudder under him in a way I was sure no one would ever be able to make me do again.

"Say my name." I was more than so very happy to mindlessly comply when I screamed as I came.

I wasn't surprised when he shoved the towel at me he had already used to clean himself up. I was, however, surprised he was nice enough to dump my clothes in a pile next to me on the bed as I started wiping the cum off my stomach. It was messy and troublesome and I wondered why I'd even bothered to come here in the first place. When he had gotten dressed I watched him walk to his bedroom door and slide the screen open - his hair was limp in the back and it looked as if he'd run a marathon. It was only after noting this did I realize my vision had finally adjusted to the darkness of the room. My eyes wandered downwards over his back, and I realized that his shirt was black, not the usual blue, though it bore his clan's fan-shaped crest anyway. I felt an obligation to glance below me, and almost absently noticed he had black sheets.

"You know the way out, Shikamaru." He glanced over his shoulder at me, and I realized at once how stupid I must look - a towel clenched in one hand as I tried to clean myself with my ponytail mussed up and stray strands of hair sticking to my sweaty forehead. I could only nod dumbly as he smirked, and at once I felt both insulted and understanding of how Ino and Sakura could chase him like idiots all these years. Though, I supposed my inside knowledge of him gave me more understanding than either of those girls had. When I let myself out and started walking home, I caught myself quietly wishing that it wouldn't be the last time I saw that side of the Uchiha genius.