They did not speak much when coupling. Conversation tended to fall aside when they were entangled, skin upon skin; it was replaced instead with sounds of lesser sensibility, and greater coherence.
Something was breached, therefore, that night, when the questions were asked. Neji's velvet-obsidian hair had loosened from its bindings, falling around him and Hinata, shielding both their faces, his thigh slick between hers, one strand of her midnight hair teasing a path between the luminous, supple skin. Colour had risen against the panes of both their faces. Neji's eyes remained wide open, silvery and opaque, glazed with desire, shame, and a hundred other things he had no patience to consider; Hinata's eyes were lowered, veiled behind dark lashes.
"What are you?"
The question was forced between harsh breathing; he was halfway inside of her, her back arched and defiant with need.
Hinata's eyes flew open and met his.
She pressed, shuddering, more of her flesh giving way to him, and finally remembered to whisper a reply. "A girl, Neji-nii"
Neji's head fell upon the white curve of Hinata's shoulder, his lips fervent against her neck. Hinata bit back sound, blood beating against her throat. She thought to ask something of Neji in return, but was driven to distraction by his hands and mouth; Neji was quicker, and spoke for a second time while he coaxed her legs apart, breathless, leaning for deeper contact still.
"Whose are you?"
Hinata stiffened, her neck strained, lips working soundlessly. Pain slipped into her pale eyes, before it was blinked away. She answered in a voice that trembled and broke; she was aware of the mounting slickness between her thighs and her frantic heartbeat. "I am m-my own."
Neji stilled, and slipped out of her, propping himself above Hinata, who was gazing into-past- his eyes. He stayed thus, both conscious and uncaring of the seconds which slipped by. Without warning he parted her legs once more, before thrusting hard and fully into Hinata, eliciting a repressed gasp-moan which made his blood burn. One hand found her cheek and cupped the smooth, heated curve of her face; the other entwined fingers with hers, as he surged into and against her.
Hinata's breathing had turned staccato; she arched into Neji's body, whimpers escaping her lips. Neji's hand left her cheek, sliding hungrily towards where they were joined; he began his ministrations and Hinata jerked, drawing him further into her. His fingers stroked and twisted; he pushed against her, tongue darting forward to lick the underside of her white throat. His eyes upon hers, almost begging in expression, he rasped a final time. "Whose are you?"
She contracted around him, a moan tearing past her lips, legs limp as heat coursed through her.
"Yours," she gasped, and he came.