Undercurrents

A/N: Posted here upon request - my thanks for the intensely kind words. This is the second long fiction (as opposed to the two short Naru/Sasu fics also on this site) in the Monoshizukanohi world. This story is complete, and I'll be uploading it as I can.

~*~

Neji shifted the BMW M6 convertible into fifth gear and absently brushed a stray lock of long hair away from his face. The highway wasn’t very busy, and Neji cruised entirely too fast as he headed toward the outskirts of Monoshizukanohi. Trees and gently rolling hills flew past his peripheral vision, the sun beat down from overhead, and Neji easily swerved to the right to pass an SUV. Cops be damned, he loved driving fast.

Adjusting the rear-view mirror, Neji settled down into the leather seat, flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, and tried not to glance at the innocent-looking package sitting next to him.

Such a small thing to take up so much metaphysical space, Neji thought. He grimaced.

Merging onto the highway had briefly broken his train of thought, but now with nothing but concrete to contemplate and miles to kill, Neji’s plans resurfaced for more fine-tooth combing. This would make roughly the twelfth such combing session in the past two hours, but still Neji was not entirely happy with the way he saw events going in his head.

And it was all because generally speaking, Hyugas did not beg.

Typically, that task fell to other people. Furthermore, it was usually people begging Hyugas; not the other way around. Though, Neji conceded, “begging” might not be the best term for what his uncle’s constituents did. “Lobbying” and “scheming” or perhaps simply, “sucking up” would all be more accurate. Neji’s uncle, Hiashi, was Prime Minister of Monoshizukanohi’s one-house government – making him a type of elected king, really – and there was no end to the political maneuvering or favor exchanging.

Point being, the fine art of begging was not exactly in Neji’s overly-educated repertoire. He could coerce grown men into agreements they never thought they’d make, could argue and win a point without raising his voice, and could take a beating that would make most adults weep for mercy without flinching, (the latter a by-product of coming-of-age in a Hyuga household).

But begging?

Neji scowled and his tires screeched as he exited the freeway. He slammed on his breaks before making a hairpin turn onto a country road. Neji easily regained control of the car, the steering wheel spinning under his hands. As he accelerated mindlessly through the gears, he turned his plan over in his mind once again. It wasn’t as though begging were an integral part of the scheme; in fact, most of the exchange should go like a presentation.

It was just that Neji truly felt that if he didn’t achieve his desired results, he would beg. Gracelessly if necessary. On his knees if required. For hours.

Desperation is a cruel and unjust mistress.

The only problem was that he wasn’t sure it would be enough. And if Neji hated anything with a passion, it was open-ended variables in a plan.

Distaste gracing his fine features, Neji reached over and switched on the stereo. Dir en grey managed to drown out the rest of Neji’s thoughts as he guided the car along the winding, narrow roads that led to the Nara farm. The drive usually soothed Neji; he would come out to this part of town and just get lost on back roads when he felt uptight. He rarely stopped in to see Shikamaru or any of the Nara family, but Neji often found that just being near their farm and nature preserve helped calm any frayed nerves.

Today, however, Neji slowed down and made the turn onto the road that led to the Nara Nature Preserve Field Office. The Nara family owned thousands of acres on the outskirts of town, and those acres were summarily divided into thirds: cattle, crops, and nature preserve. On the far side of the farm was a large holding facility and shipping center. The Nara Farms dairy products were famous and in every grocery and convenience store in the region. And they grew, bottled, and packaged everything right from the very land they worked.

The preserve where Shikamaru spent nearly all his time was both a rehabilitation facility and home to hundreds of deer and other animals that the Nara family tended. If you found a wounded baby skunk on your back porch, then you took the little guy to the Nara Preserve. A wild animal specialist from the Inuzuka family was kept on-call to assist if necessary. All-in-all, it was a very peaceful and profitable industry.

Neji and Shikamaru had known one another for years. They went to school together, saw one another at various political functions and other get-togethers, and their fathers were friends. Well, inasmuch as one can be “friends” with Hiashi, Neji conceded.

As Neji turned onto the gravel drive that led to Shikamaru’s cabin, he tried to coax his heart down out of his throat. He failed, but he be damned if he let anyone know how nervous he felt. The car glided along the drive, and Neji’s outward demeanor was as calm as fallen snow.

Neji knew his friend would be home; Shika rarely left the family land now that he had his own place. It helped that said place was far away from his parents’ house, which was several thousand acres away. Shika and his mother didn’t exactly get along very well.

Neji just hoped that Shika would actually be at his cabin as opposed to walking the preserve. Shikamaru was in school for forestry and wildlife, though there was a betting pool as to how many years it would take him to actually finish. Neji’s money was on seven. The degree was a formality, really; Shika knew as much as his father about wildlife and managing land, and that was quite a bit.

Shikamaru’s cabin was small but adequate and stood in a clearing of woods about two miles from the Field Office. Neji stopped the car in front of the porch and killed the engine. For a second Neji simply stared at the box in the passenger seat. Then he sighed, grabbed it, and got out of the car.

Insects buzzed in the trees as Neji climbed the stairs, crossed the wide porch, and knocked on the front door. If Shika was home, he would have heard the car, of course. But that didn’t mean he’d get up to answer the door until absolutely necessary.

Neji slipped his impersonal mask across his features as easily as he would pull on socks. He casually adjusted the hem of his dark gray shirt, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. His jeans were ripped in intentional horizontal lines across one upper thigh, and they were tailored to hit exactly on top of his black boots. Despite his fluttering insides, he projected an air of subtle confidence and calm and waited.

Shika’s soft footfalls approached the front door a moment later.

“Who is it?” Shika’s bored voice asked.

“Neji.”

“Oh,” Shika said, his tone changing to slightly puzzled and a tad relieved.

Neji heard a bolt turn and then Shika opened the door. He was half-dressed, his loose pants barely managing to hug his narrow hips. He had a belt over one arm and a cloud-covered coffee mug in his hand. Shika brought the mug to his lips and sipped while Neji stared.

It wasn’t the first time Neji’d seen Shikamaru in casual states of undress. And it affected him like it always did: his heart dropped to his gut, his pulse quickened, and his mouth went dry.

Neji’s expression, however, never faltered. Calm, cool, collected.

“Did I wake you?” Neji asked, his voice carefully controlled.

“Nah…just didn’t bother to find clothes ‘til you knocked. Come in.”

Neji licked his lips and tried very hard to keep images of a naked Shikamaru wandering around his cabin out of his head.

Damnable imagination.

Shikamaru kicked the door closed once Neji was inside and then made a face at the mug. “I’d offer coffee, but it’s from yesterday.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Neji replied, eying a stack of laundry that was, for some reason, in the corner of the living room.

Shika grunted. “Probably for the best, then.” He padded into the kitchen while Neji let himself into the living room. Two-storey windows occupied one wall of the room, letting in forest-darkened light. The furnishings were simple and very Shika: mismatched chairs and a long couch no doubt chosen for their comfort and functionality rather than their aesthetics. A long coffee table sat in front of the couch and on it were not one but two chessboards, both with active games. A fireplace occupied one corner, and a stack of wood sat next to it in a rather ornate holder. The only thing on the walls was a very large, metal wheel that hovered over the fireplace.

“Just sit anywhere,” Shika said. He went over to the pile of laundry and selected a t-shirt that was, Neji saw, folded. One part of the pile appeared to be sorted and the other was just mashed clothing.

“Thank you,” Neji said and chose one of the chairs. He watched as Shika yanked on the t-shirt, tugged up the pants, and then collapsed onto the couch. He leaned back and put his hands behind his head, eyes closed.

“What can I do for you, Neji?” Shikamaru asked.

Neji swallowed and managed to find some satisfaction in that everything was going to plan thus far. Shika was relaxed, informal, and his usual direct self.

“I have something for you,” Neji said. He leaned forward and placed the small box on the coffee table between the two chessboards. It was wrapped in dark green foil paper.

“Oh?” Shika asked, eyes opening. He frowned as he sat up and eyed the box. “Why?”

“Because I have something to tell you and it’s the kind of thing you say with a gift,” Neji said. It was both a direct answer and extremely vague. Neji was proud of that.

Shikamaru frowned even harder, his eyes on the box. He loosely folded his hands between his knees. “It’s not my birthday and no one’s dead. What else requires a gift to talk about?”

“You’ll find out after you open it,” Neji said. Sheer practiced willpower kept nerves and irritation out of his voice.

Shika looked at Neji and for a moment the two men merely eyed one another. Neji knew Shikamaru was assessing if there was a way to just refuse the gift since it obviously came with a price of some sort. Shika didn’t like anything upsetting his routine, and he hated surprises. But Neji also knew there wasn’t a way for Shika to do that and not appear like a complete ass. So he waited.

“Okay,” Shika finally said and picked up the box.

“Careful,” Neji quietly cautioned as Skika made to shake the box. Instead, he glanced at Neji and then gently set the box down on his lap. Curiosity stole over Shika’s face, and Neji smiled just a little. He actually really enjoyed giving presents; he just didn’t do it often.

Neji sat appearing to be the image of tranquility as Shika carefully undid the wrapping paper and cut the tape holding the lid of the cardboard box with his thumbnail. Neji resisted the temptation to yank the box out of the painfully slow Nara’s hands, but he managed to hold on to his cool. For all the times Neji hated being so aware of appearance, he was thankful for that awareness at times like these.

Shika lifted the lid, unfolded the tissue paper and then gently picked up the object inside. It, too, was wrapped, so Shika carefully removed that paper just as slowly. The cabin was completely silent and Neji forced himself to breathe through his nose. He knew Shika would like the little thing; it was what came after the “thank you” that had Neji sweating.

Once the tissue paper was off and lying in a pastel puddle at Shika’s feet, he held the delicate, glass stag in one hand. It was a nice work of art, Neji thought. The glass was Italian and hand-blown. The stag was carefully shaped with exquisite detail that Neji didn’t even know was possible with glass until he saw this piece. The eyes were tiny flecks of onyx, and the stag proudly displayed 12-point antlers.

Carefully, Shika ran his fingers over the glass as though petting the deer. He turned it over in his hands and examined it for a full minute before finally looking up at Neji. His expression was both pleased and cautious; like he had no idea why he deserved such a thing and was worried about it.

“It’s…very nice, Neji,” Shika said.

“I’m glad you like it,” Neji said and smiled, a mere movement of lips. “I found it two years ago in Italy, and it reminded me of you.”

Shika stared hard at Neji, and he returned Shika’s gaze. Neji almost laughed as he watched the wheels turn in Shika’s head.

“Two…years?”

Neji nodded, one eyebrow raised. He let that information sink into the Nara’s brain.

“Why…” Shika faltered, and he looked incredibly unsure for a split second. Neji frowned. It wasn’t one of Shikamaru’s usual expressions.

“Why are you giving it to me now?” Shika managed, recovering.

Neji sighed. “Have you heard about Lee and Gai?” he asked.

That threw Shika for a loop, just as Neji expected.

“Huh?” Shika asked.

Neji stood up. “Lee and Gai – I guess you haven’t heard, then?” He made his way around the coffee table. “Mind if I sit?” Neji didn’t wait for an answer before he gracefully sat sideways on the couch, one arm over its back, so that he was facing Flustered Shika Version 1.2.

“Lee? And that sensei of his who runs the Green Dojo place?” Shika asked.

“Yes,” Neji said. “They moved in together last week.”

“You’re kidding.”

Neji shook his head. “No, I’m not. Lee’s loved Gai for…God, who knows how long? And he finally figured it out and worked up the balls to confess his love. Get this – I think he had to tie Gai to a chair to do it.”

“Tie him…to a…chair?” Shika looked confused and a little nervous. He couldn’t work out the link between Gai and Lee and Neji and the stag, yet. Neji smiled.

“Apparently he got a little lesson in bondage 101 from Kakashi,” Neji said and chuckled. “I’m sure Gai loved it, if what I know of him is true.”

Now Shika looked distinctly nervous. He shifted away from Neji a bit and licked his lips. “Neji, I fail to see how Kakashi, Gai, Lee, or bondage has anything to do with this gift.”

Neji waved a hand. “I know. The thing is…” Neji paused and tucked his hair behind his ear. It was a nervous habit he played off like a coy move. It also stalled for some time because even though Neji knew exactly what he wanted to say…it didn’t make it easy by any means.

“The thing is, Shikamaru that watching my best friend practically kill himself to tell someone whom he loves how he feels woke me up to a few things. I think I’m finally fed up with being afraid of rejection. It can’t be any worse than silence or self-imposed denial.”

Shika blinked at Neji.

Now Neji looked down, not able to meet Shika’s gaze as he said the next part. He forgave himself – it wasn’t necessary to the plan, after all.

“So I brought you this gift that I’ve had for years so that I could tell you how I feel about you.” Neji took a deep breath.

“I…care very deeply for you, Shikamaru.” He couldn’t quite say “love,” but Neji let it go. This was probably going to be shocking enough to Shika without the “l” word.

“And I hope if you’re not too opposed to the idea that you’ll let me prove it.” Neji sighed and looked up.

Shika’s face was almost comical in its shock. His eyebrows formed deep furrows in his forehead, his eyes were wide, and his mouth was small and tightly drawn. Then he shook his head in a clear show of disbelief.

“Wait a damned minute…you’re gay?”

Neji almost laughed but held back. “Ah, yes, Shika, I am.”

“But…you’re the Hyuga heir.”

“Yes?” Neji didn’t quite see where he was going with that one.

“Isn’t…well, isn’t Hiashi pissed?”

Now Neji did laugh. “Oh he doesn’t care. As long as I continue to work as political advisor and finish out my education so that can become official, I don’t think Uncle cares who or what I screw.” Neji shrugged one shoulder. “He thinks it’s progressive and a show of tolerance. I just have to pick an heir from the family to pass everything along to when the time comes.”

Shika’s mouth worked for a second before words managed to formulate. “But how do you know I’m gay?”

Now that was a question Neji anticipated. “Research,” he said with an artful shrug.

“What?” Shika’s eyes were wide.

“I asked around, Shika. I’m in politics – you think I don’t have informants?” Honestly, Neji’d been in love with Shika for at least two years. Didn’t the boy think Neji’d done his homework?

“And since you’re not shy about telling people you’re gay…” Shika began.

“It wasn’t a surprise that I was asking after you, no,” Neji finished.

“So…you know…what, exactly?” Neji frowned at the wording of the question and at the level of panic he heard in Shika’s voice.

“I know you like men,” Neji answered immediately. “And I know…” Neji paused as a few facts tried to piece themselves together a little too quickly.

“I know you went on a few dates with Kiba,” Neji finished. Kiba was infamous in a few circles for enjoying…certain things. And Neji was acquainted with both the circles and those certain things. Was that why Shika was so agitated? Did he think Neji would be offended?

Shika relaxed a little, but he still seemed…distressed. Moreso than he should, really.

“Shika, what’s wrong?”

Shikamaru spluttered. “What’s wrong?” He sat up and looked at Neji like he was insane.

“You waltz into my home, hand me a...well, beautiful…little thing, thanks for that. But still!” Shikamaru gesticulated wildly as if he couldn’t form the words but his hands could. “You tell me that you…and then you say you know things…and-“ He broke off, his arms dropped, and Neji smiled.

“I know, Shika,” Neji said. “And I certainly don’t expect you to accept this all in stride. But I’ve felt this way for a while, and seeing Lee was…inspirational.” Neji met Shika’s flustered gaze.

“So, like I said, I hope you give me the chance to prove to you that I’m sincere.”

Shika swallowed. “You know that I went out with Kiba,” he said and his hands moved and fidgeted with one another.

Neji nodded. That information was easy to come by, actually. He’d only had to ask Kakashi whom Shikamaru had dated.

“Yes,” Neji said.

“I…know some things, too,” Shika said quietly.

“Like what?” Neji asked. Shika looked like he was going to reply but a heavy knock reverberated through the cabin.

“That’s Dad,” Shika said, not looking at the door.

“Shikamaru?” Shikaku called. “Who’s car is that?”

The elder Nara walked into the living room and spied Neji. He grinned. “Neji. I should have known. You and Gaara and your cars.”

Neji smiled and stood, easily making the transition from spilling his heart to polite formality. “It’s good to see you, sir,” Neji said.

“Bah,” Shikaku said, waving a hand dismissively. “Call me Shikaku.” Then he winked. “I only make your dad call me, ‘sir!’”

Neji chuckled good-naturedly. Shikaku was on the environmental board and often met with Neji’s father to talk business. The Nara farm was a key player in local government and economics.

“And speaking of your father, I’m glad you’re here, Neji. You can help convince my wayward son that he has to attend the gala tomorrow night.” Shikaku fixed his gaze on Shika, who still sat slouched on the couch staring at the floor.

“It’s such a bother,” Shika muttered and ran his hands over his arms.

“You haven’t been off the land in weeks, Shika, and you need to make an appearance as the representative for the Preserve,” Shikaku said and then turned to Neji with a sly look. “Neji – tell the kid he needs to be there. I’m sure he’ll go if you ask him.”

“It is the fundraiser gala for Wildlife Charities, Shikamaru,” Neji said, keen to play along. He was never one to miss an opportunity, and if he could get Shika at the gala, then perhaps they could continue this conversation.

Neji walked over to the coffee table, presumably to eye the chessboard, but it was a cheap excuse to get closer to Shika. “I’ll see to it that he has a seat at my table,” Neji said. Shika looked up and met Neji’s gaze. His expression was practically unreadable, but Neji thought he saw an undercurrent of worry in Shika’s brown eyes.

“All the VIPs will have a seat reserved for them,” Neji continued. “We ask that they wear red boutonnieres so the service staff can identify them.” Neji leaned down and thoughtfully picked up a white pawn on one of the boards. He moved it and took a rook. “So, if Shika shows up tomorrow night with a red flower, I’ll know just where to seat him.” Neji set the rook down on the table with a clink and stared into Shika’s eyes for a moment. Shika swallowed.

Neji smiled and then stood. “Sound good, Shikaku?”

“Absolutely. You can’t get any better than VIP, Shikamaru.”

When Shika didn’t respond, Neji turned toward Shikaku. “Well, I should get going. I’m sure you and Shika have things to do on the farm.”

Shikaku nodded. “I was just coming to fetch Shika.” He turned to his son and dropped his voice. “Your mother wants to see you.”

Shika groaned and put his head between his knees.

Neji chuckled. “Good luck with that, Shika. I hope to see you tomorrow night.” He nodded at Shikaku and made his exit.

Back in the car and safely on the road, Neji focused on putting together the puzzle. Shika’s shock seemed to be pretty standard until Neji told him about his research. Was there something Shika didn’t want Neji to know? And what did he know about Neji, exactly, that would make him so anxious?

Neji sorted out the questions and the unknowns, and by the time he reached his house – a small estate in a community that allowed each of its residents private one-acre lots surrounded by fences – he knew all the questions he needed to ask. The only variable was whether or not Shika would show, and Neji couldn’t do anything about that.

But since Shika’s parents were involved, Neji felt confident that he’d see Shika tomorrow night. Confident enough that when he called to confirm his own attendance at the gala and the woman on the line asked if he would be bringing a guest, Neji said:

“Yes, one. Nara Shikamaru.”

And hopefully, he’d be wearing a red flower in his lapel.

~*~