Note from the Author: o.O I have this nasty little habit of continuing things I said were finished.

You must also be in love.

Shino's hands were like porcelain. They were cool, smooth, and so very white.

Kiba enjoyed touching them and thought they were most lovely lain across his tan stomach – the contrast sharp but not clashing.

The clock read nine-thirty, and Shino was still asleep, his head nestled against his shoulder, breath soft across his collarbone. Kiba lay still in the bed, afraid that any move might wake the flawless boy beside him, might make him draw away the beautiful hands that were ever so lightly touching his skin.

He didn't think he'd ever been quite this quiet – it wasn't in him to force himself not to speak. At any time previous to this night – and this morning – he would have loudly declared that his teammate needed to wake up, that he was bored just lying in bed, wasting the morning away. But he didn't feel anymore that this was a waste and, if he had a choice, he'd wish Shino would sleep forever.

No. No, he wouldn't wish that. If he never awoke, then it would all have been a dream that couldn't continue.

It reminded him a little of a fairy tale – Sleeping Beauty – the one in which only a lover's kiss could awaken an enchanted princess. Shino was no princess, Kiba thought vaguely as his lips came down on his friend's, but he could be his prince.


Additional A/N: The prompt? I started thinking about hands and the differences between them. And it somehow ended up a ShinoKiba drabble.

Oh, and I'm officially taking requests for stories, if anyone's interested. (Yes, this is Elizabeth putting off writing the next chapter of Catch Without Arms – how may I help you?)