Scowling, Tenten pushed another meaty hand off her shoulder, not bothering to follow it with the "glare o' death" this time. After an hour of hanging out in a pub with the lowest of the local lowlifes, she had developed a certain level of tolerance for their crude behavior. Rather like swallowing arsenic in low doses, she supposed, so that any exposure to a large dose wouldn't kill you, just leave behind a nagging headache.
"Hey, enough of that," growled Kiba at whoever had accosted her this time. "You're putting me off my food."
"My hero," muttered Tenten.
Kiba shrugged and tipped back his mug, drinking lustily. Since completing their mission with the bandits, Kiba had suggested they go "celebrate" in the local pub of the town they were resting in. Sakura had declined and headed straight for the inn while Gaara seemed to vanish completely. Feeling bored, Tenten had followed Kiba into the rowdy bar and was quickly regretting her decision. Grimacing, she spun on the barstool, leaning her elbows back on the bar. The view hadn't changed much in the last half hour. There was a slightly different contingent of barmaids. Having finished with one set of "customers," they were ready for the next batch. Kiba was on her right and situated in such a way that he could keep an eye on her. If she required help, which was unlikely, all that casualness would slough off as hapless patrons discovered a very deadly ninja on the premises.
On the other side of her lay a dozing Akamaru. Tenten wondered at first how the giant dog could sleep in such a noisy atmosphere but was grateful nonetheless, for his immense size. Apart from the occasional half-hearted proposition, the dog's mere presence was enough to keep her from being manhandled. Tenten idly wondered what would happen if she took any of these middle-aged letches up on their various offers. Probably massive coronaries all over the pub, she snickered to herself. Although his gaze didn't leave his food, Kiba raised one eyebrow in a questioning manner. Yes, he was keeping an eye on her. Tenten's amusement filtered away, leaving her feeling cross. Hopping off the barstool, she prepared to march away. "I'm going upstairs," she informed him.
"Nothing's upstairs," he responded.
"Precisely," she retorted.
Kiba briefly lifted his gaze from his food to nod carelessly at her. "Whatever."
Turning her back on him, she headed up the stairs to the pub's dining area.
Normally softly lit with romantic candles, and usually housing a traveling vendor or two, tonight the dining room was uninhabited and dark except for the soft moon glow that bled through the half-covered windows. Mercifully the din below muted as soon as she left the staircase. Tenten looked at the windows, suppressing a sigh.
There was a slight noise behind her. Unalarmed, Tenten turned her head. The scrape of a chair indicated she was not alone. Evidently someone else was feeling introspective tonight. "I'm sorry," she started, "I didn't mean to intrude," she continued as she turned towards the noise.
And stopped.
Whoever was unfolding from the chair across the room was definitely male. The shadows hid the features completely, giving the newcomer an illusion of facelessness that was disconcerting. Tenten felt the first frisson of fear skate across her skin, leaving inexplicable goosebumps in its wake. Just the situation, she told herself, no one here could possibly hurt me. Yet there was an aura of menace about the figure that made it hard to hold her ground rather than dart for the safety of the stairwell.
Especially when the figure moved swiftly towards her without making one sound. It stopped just inches away, and the moonlight fell in strips across an austere, pale face. Tenten felt her eyes widen. "Gaara," she said without heat, genuinely surprised. "What on earth are you hiding up here for?"
"If you've been downstairs, you must know why I'm here," retorted Gaara, arms folded and looking threatening as ever. Tenten broke the unnerving eye contact she was having with him and realized she was rapidly growing more nervous for every minute she was up here alone with him. Gaara had shown no advances towards her after that unexpected kiss he'd sprung on her several days ago and for awhile, Tenten was starting to believe it'd never happen.
"Yeah, um, I'll just leave now--" She mumbled and made to brush past him, but he seized her by an arm. Halting, she found herself glaring at him. There was a pause and then she began to pull away a bit, a hint to let go of her. The grip around her arm slackened, but Gaara didn't remove his hand. Instead, he slid his fingers up her arm to the top of her bare shoulder, brushing them lightly back and forth as he stared into her face, a slightly quizzical expression across his. Tenten tried not to squirm. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Testing a theory," he murmured. The hand on her shoulder moved to her neck then to the back of her head, fingers spreading to hold her steady. Tenten watched, unblinking, as his lids half-closed and he lowered his head to her, resting his mouth lightly against hers. He wasn't touching her anywhere else. Tenten tried to decide if it qualified as a "grope" when he hadn't made any move towards her breasts yet. He hadn't even looked at her breasts yet, as far as she could tell, which was at odds with how he'd been ogling them without restraint just a few days ago. It was as if she didn't exist from the neck down, and since the opposite was usually the case, she wasn't sure how to react.
Like you react to any other moron coming on to you, the logical part of her mind prodded her, and Tenten snapped out of her strange abstraction.
She made no effort to pull away. Without warning, he started to undo her hair from their customary buns while still kissing her, until it fell down in waves past her shoulders. Her mouth moved against his when she spoke. "If you're quite finished with your little experiment," She said coolly as he pulled his head back and looked her in the eyes again, the fingers in her hair beginning to twine and shift. "I believe the waitresses have half-hour specials on tonight, so they should be able to handle any other problems you're experiencing."
Gaara quirked his lips into a sardonic little smirk. Shivering, Tenten wondered why she hadn't made a run for it already. "I thank you for the information, but I'll need rather more than half an hour." The fingers were widening their caresses, kneading her scalp as his thumb stroked the back of her neck, and he still wasn't touching her anywhere else or looking below her neck. What was wrong with him?
What's wrong with you? demanded the logical part of her mind. The staircase is right there. If he tries to stop you, just yell and Kiba will come running. Never mind that Gaara can beat you all silly without breaking a sweat.
The roughness of his hand pressed lazily against the nape of her neck as he stared steadily down into her eyes. Fuck off, Tenten mentally snarled, and the logical part of her mind shrugged and shut down for the night. She tilted her head, glancing at him sideways, feeling his hand shift to accommodate her. He was making no attempt to constrict her movements. She really could leave. "What do you want?" She demanded instead.
The fingers in her hair stilled. Slowly Gaara trailed his hand down her neck, down her back, to the small of her waist, where it stopped; the light touch along her spine woke up nerve endings she didn't know existed. The smirk widened. "Right this moment? I want to kiss you. Properly. May I?"
Ooooh, clever. Make it her choice. Tenten scowled for some reason. "Why would you want to? If I remember correctly, you said I 'kiss like a virgin'."
"I didn't say it was a bad thing," He replied. The fingers on her back spread, the thumb doing the same stroking motion it had done to her neck. She sucked in an inelegant breath. Did he know what that did to her? "You have to say 'yes,' Tenten."
She was curious and the dark smothered her common sense. "One kiss," Tenten agreed in a sharp tone, making it sound like she was indulging a bratty little boy so that he would leave her alone.
Gaara's other hand came up, the roughness sliding along her jaw and catching slightly on her smooth skin as he positioned her head where he wanted it and continued with the distracting small strokes against her back. He made no attempt to pull her against him, which was surprise number one; he was still keeping contact to a minimum. Surprise number two was that the kiss started out very different from the one in the desert, lips covering hers, no pressure, no demand at all. She heard him inhale very slowly through his nose. His mouth parted over hers, his tongue rubbed against her lower lip, then his mouth shifted and he softly suckled the flesh he had just stroked.
Suddenly, Tenten really wanted to do something with her hands.
She wasn't sure what. Pushing him away was a consideration. As lightly as he was holding her, one good shove would do it. Slapping him would be more difficult, partially because he had permission so it wouldn't be fair, and partially because, given the position their heads were in relative to each other, it would be an awkward maneuver to attempt. Really, she just felt odd standing there with her arms dangling uselessly by her sides while his mouth slid over hers and his fingers caressed her jaw and his thumb moved in rough circles over the small of her back. Plus she knew that her knees were likely to give out soon. She wasn't sure how she knew since they never had given any hint of collapse when she'd been in a clinch with any other boys her age. Already, though, this unlikely encounter eclipsed anything she had experienced before.
Flailing blindly behind herself, Tenten felt the hard edge of one of the dining tables bite into her palm. She griped, pulled, and perched against the edge, breathing hard, legs spread inelegantly in an attempt to maintain balance and not end up on the floor.
Gaara gave a small, surprised grunt when her mouth vanished, but his hands were still on her and he followed, stumbling slightly. It was a little strange and amusing to watch Gaara off guard. She heard a slapping sound as his hands came down flat on either side of her. More importantly, his torso was pressing against her stomach, his face tucked under her chin. He had to be getting an eyeful of her "assets" in that position. Tenten leaned against the table, stunned that she had a guy between her thighs, more stunned when she considered who the guy was. Gaara shifted over her, resting his weight on one hand as the other went against her waist and began to trace up her side. He reached her breast -- here it comes, the grope -- but continued without pause or pressure until fingers closed over her shoulder. He turned his head and nuzzled into the base of her throat, teeth nipping oh-so-gently.
Her elbows went the way of her knees, and Tenten found herself staring wide-eyed at the darkened ceiling, flat on her back as the last person in the world she ever expected to willingly embrace pressed against her and moaned into her skin. She wanted to rub her thighs together, but he was in the way so she hooked one leg around his hip and heard the breath hiss from his lungs. Her hands finally found purchase in his hair, clenching near the base of his skull without any of the finesse he used with her. When he bit small kisses in scattered patches across her neck and shoulders she writhed, reduced to a mass of nerve endings and wordless need.
She felt the slight tensing under her hands as he turned his head suddenly and grabbed tighter, afraid he was going to stop. "Shh," he whispered, one finger going to her mouth and then lingering to trace it. He shook his head as if clearing it before pulling her to her feet. Tugging her deeper into the room, he released her to open one of the doors that led to the wrap-around balcony. Tenten hesitated in the doorway, not sure of his purpose, and felt the cool night air like an unwelcoming smack of reason. He turned, bracing a hip against the railing as he folded his arms over his chest and regarded her steadily in his trademark pose.
"Hey," came a voice from the staircase, nearly frightening her out of her wits, "you all right, Tenten?"
"Kiba!" His name came out close to a yelp. Tenten hadn't heard him at all. Pressing a hand over her chest, she glared in his general direction. "Scare someone half to death, why don't you?"
"Sorry," he said, not sounding it at all. "You've been up here a long time, ya know."
"I'm enjoying the quiet, so leave me alone," Tenten snapped.
"Well excuse me for worrying."
"Kiba, wait…" Digging into her pocket, she brought out a cloth purse. "Here." She tossed it to the faint light coming from the stairwell, sure the Inuzuka would catch it. A hand came over the railing and snatched the purse with a small jingling of coin.
"What's this for? I've got my own, it's not like the Hokage deprives us or anything."
"That's a present from me, and you're to spend it on the best slop they have in this place. Nothing personal, but I need some time away from you lot tonight. It's a girl thing."
Kiba grunted, not interested in pursuing any 'girl thing.' "Thanks."
She listened to him stomp back down the stairs. It was quite telling that she hadn't heard him on the way up before.
"You could always go and watch him imbibe your 'present," said Gaara. "I'm sure it will have high entertainment value."
He was still giving her an out, this time not distracting her by letting his hands do their little magic tricks on her skin. Tenten regarded him warily, aware that the darkness hid any chance she had at reading expressions or interpreting emotions. She couldn't understand him at all, and she still wanted him, the guy who had nearly killed Lee. It made no sense. Well, she decided, firming up her courage before it fled completely, at least I won't die a virgin. Everyone knew that a career as a ninja was no laughing matter-- Tenten had always known she would probably die young. For that reason, it was common for shinobi her age to live life to its fullest, and she intended to do just that.
"I was expecting you to be an even higher entertainment value," She retorted. "Am I wrong?"
"You really shouldn't trust me, you know." He murmured, amused.
"Oh, I don't," Tenten assured him.
"No? Good." Gaara opened his arms to her. "Come here." He made no move towards her; it was her choice, all the wayWith a fatalistic weariness, Tenten went to him, putting her arms around his waist as she leaned her head against the coarse cloth at his chest. His heartbeat was faster than normal, faster than hers at any rate. Pleased that she had such an effect on him, she wiggled a bit as if getting comfortable. His arms came around her, hands stroking down her back to press her into him.
Then Gaara took a step backwards, and they toppled over the balcony's low wall together.
Tenten didn't have time for surprise. She felt the rush of wind, thought Damn it, I am going to die a virgin after all, and clenched her eyes closed. Then suddenly instead of an inglorious "splat", she was laying on top of sand that was hovering several feet above the ground.
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