endless_scrolls: (Breathless)
endless_scrolls ([personal profile] endless_scrolls) wrote2016-09-26 01:47 am

Mistake Number Two

Title: Mistake Number Two
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Word count: 1094
Character(s): Tenten, Kankuro
Pairing(s): Kankuro/Tenten
Warning(s): Thar be kissing wars.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Just a little something that simply would not leave my headspace until I wrote it out.
Dedicated to: The Miro-pup. Always the Miro-pup ♥

With only a whisper of a breeze to mark his movement, he was there, in her face and moving further still from where he stood. The familiar sharp smell of polish, both wood and metal, hit Tenten's nose only an instant before feeling the tight grip of a heavy hand against her shoulder, firm yet thoughtless in its reach. And with a sharp tug, the kunoichi felt her body pitch forward. Her hands were the cushion and brace against the momentum as Tenten's feet nearly stumbled over themselves to regain what balance they could. With the quick reflexes of a shinobi and the common sense to avoid injury, they were both saved from cracked teeth and broken noses.

She could not say the same about bloody lips and bitten tongues, though. The angle had been less than idea for it. And her bubble of personal space buzzed furiously at having been violated so easily. But the damage was already done. And to her utter embarrassment and fury, the kunoichi could not deny finding at least some enjoyment in it.

That was probably the worst part.

For an instance, it was as if time itself stopped, letting her register the softness of his lips pressed against her own with every aching moment that passed. And then, in the next breath, it turned to smoke, dissolving into thin air as she pushed at his chest and shoved him away from her in a fit of panic. Of contained rage. The kunoichi felt a tension in her limbs, muscles and fingers clenching - shaking - with so much built up pressure from those few seconds. And she felt ready to burst.

"What the hell, Puppet Boy?" she snapped, a tightening weight settling in her chest that seemed to boil with fury.

If not for the warmth that still clung to her mouth and the tingle that seemed to electrify her nerves, Tenten could have believed the lie and gone on about her business like usual.

But it wasn't, and she couldn't. Not while he watched her so intensely and intently, deep and dark pools nearly boaring straight down into her very soul while he waited for a reaction beyond the furrow-browed look of disdain. As if he were seeking out an answer to an unspoken question they had both been waiting for.

"Just figured I'd see what all the hype was about," he bit back in turn, his jaw working and shifting to feel out the damage their collision had inflicted. "Besides, I had to do something to shut you up."

And before she knew or could stop them, Tenten's fingers moved without conscious thought to brush over the spot where they had touched for one brief moment. The Leaf-nin cursed herself an instant later as she caught the twitch in his eye and the quirk in his lips, pride practically pouring off of him in waves. "Or maybe it was him who wasn't quite up to snub."

Fingers still brushing the soft curve of her lips at the memory, she frowned at his smugness and resisted the usual urge to punch it off of his face, resorting to her normal tactic of prided insults and bickering. "He did just fine. And Lee never had any complaints, unlike that disastrous display. If you're gonna prove a point, make sure you have the skill to back it up."

He scoffed, an exhaled laugh to go with the doubtful curve of his lips. "Like you could do any better?"

Normally so composed and controlled in her interactions with the young leader (or as much as either one could manage between biting remarks and childish bickering), there was something his tone and words that simply seemed to snap the last remaining thread of discipline inside of her. Before she realized it, Tenten's hand darted out to grab a fist full of fabric, fingers twisting into the dark material before giving a hard yank to bring him forward. But to avoid another tragic collision, the kunoichi stalled from reeling him in the full distance, stopping only a hair's breath away before teeth and lips could come crashing together. No doubt, hesitation also played a part in her pause. For whatever reason, though, only a moment was spared before resolve won out, and she tilted her head up to finally closed the space between, sealing it with another kiss.

They were still as soft as she recalled.

One heartbeat passed. Two. And on the third, the kunoichi realized that she should have pulled away from it after the first. Then again, he should have shoved her away after the second.

But as she eased back with a soft smack of their lips, Tenten began to realize that there had been no immediate desire to do so. On the contrary, her thoughts were far from it; if they could be considered coherent thoughts at all. In fact, there was been a moment between stubbornness and defiance where it seemed as if their bodies had only slipped further in.

Or had that just been nothing more than her imagination?

Nerves shook with uncertainty, forcing slender fingers to release their hold in recoil, attempting to distance herself from the source of the unease as the kunoichi took a physical step back from invading his personal space. Because shinobi lived on instincts, and every fiber of hers was calling for an immediate retreat before the situation dove deeper than she was willing to fall. And the ringing silence that settled between them was only drowned out by the echoing shudder in the young woman's breath when their gazes finally met across the short divide, a sharp retort hanging just on the edge of her lips, muted and forgotten in the wake of something beyond what either one of them could control.

Years of repulse, ridicule, and retort, and only now was she left speechless in his presence.

And in the crashing rush of blood that flowed through her limbs - in the deafening thump of a wary heart - Tenten could only continue to stare as calloused and thread-worn fingers grazed across the curve of her cheek. Because despite the choking anxiety and freezing panic that she felt slowly building deep in her stomach, the kunoichi could not deny the spark of something that seemed to burn through all of it at the first brush of his palm against her shoulder. At the first touch of his fingers.

A flicker of a flame that roared to life as their lips met again for a third time.