The Act that Eats the Heart
ShikaTema. If there was one thing that turned Shikamaru on, it was watching Temari play shogi with him. Smutty one-shot.

Shikamaru wasn't really into physical appearances, although it certainly made things a bit more interesting whenever Temari leaned forward and exposed a bit of skin, or when she flashed him her customary cheeky smile. That wasn't to say that he didn't look, because then he'd be lying. But he promised himself at a young age to never fall prisoner to a pretty face, or a hint of skin that sent most men babbling.

But when Temari stared at the chessboard with furrowed brows, and her hand rubbing her chin thoughtfully, Shikamaru found it hard to keep his thoughts on the game in front of him. During the evening, she wore significantly less clothing in comparison to what she normally wore during the day, usually in the form of a loose mesh shirt and comfortable black shorts ("Kankuro's," Temari had told him when he commented vaguely on long drawstrings, result of having to adjust the waist-line to her much smaller girth). They were sitting in the middle of her small inn-room, and the dingy lightbulb overhead casted a warm glow to Temari's flushed cheeks.

Temari suddenly quirked her lips, and she finally made a move. "There," she said, her voice hoarse, and Shikamaru glanced down at the board. She had him check, but Shikamaru easily found three openings. He made his move, and Temari frowned at this, and sighed, rubbing her lower lip with her index finger.

Shikamaru leaned back on his two hands, and gazed at her through hooded lids. It was getting late, and if he wasn't at home soon, his mother would throw a fit that would last until morning. At the moment, though, he didn't care; it wasn't every day Temari played shogi with him, due to the frequent meetings concerning the upcoming Chuunin exams. And watching her in deep concentration, watching as she stroked her pieces with a curious finger, was worth the nagging he would undoubtedly face when he got home.

Temari glanced at him, and gave him a sheepish grin. "I'm stuck," she told him, leaning back as well, her breasts quite visible through her mesh shirt, and Shikamaru took in the sight without an ounce of shame. It wouldn't be the first time he looked and Temari didn't seem to mind.

"That's because I have you in checkmate," Shikamaru told her finally, ignoring the way she shot him an exasperated look. "Another game?"

"Shouldn't you be heading home?" Temari countered, but started to rearrange the pieces anyway. "You really shouldn't be do that you know; giving people false hope is just cruel."

"Mm." As if she could ever beat him, but Shikamaru didn't dare tell her this. While she failed repeatedly to beat him in shogi, she lorded over him during training, typically in the form of taijutsu and long-distance combat.

And in other ways as well, he added with an afterthought, watching lazily as she decided wordlessly that she would be making the first move in their new game of chess.

He liked watching her like this, anyway. The way she challenged him to another round of chess. The way she concentrated on her next move. The way she rubbed her chin and lower lip. The way she she leaned slightly, with her elbows on her knees, and showing an impressive amount of cleavage. The way she took an avid interested in shogi, after catching him play with Asuma-sensei.

The way the game inevitably ended with a kiss…and then some.

And then, as if reading his thoughts, Temari glanced upwards at him with an unnerving smile, and Shikamaru felt his mouth go dry with anticipation.

Pushing the small table aside, Temari crawled towards him, her clavicles becoming more prominent and her back arching deliciously. He watched her in lazy curiosity, and allowed her to crawl on top of his crossed legs, her thighs trapping his thin waist. He placed his calloused hands on either side of her hips, and enjoyed the feeling of her breasts against his chest (or rather, his chuunin vest), and her thin, strong arms that wound around his neck. Her hands ran through his hair, pulling slightly at several strands of his ponytail, and then, after a minute of searching his face for something, she lowered her mouth onto his.

They kissed slowly, lazily, their lips pulling and giving, and every so often, a hint of tongue brushing on the other's lips. Shikamaru's arousal only grew, and it wasn't long until Temari pulled away, only to push off his vest.

"Don't be so selfish," she reprimanded him without bite, waiting for him to take off his vest and mesh shirt.

"Back at you," Shikamaru retorted, his hands never once leaving her hips, and watched appreciatively when she took off her shirt, and in fascination as her breasts bounced slightly. Almost tentatively, with Temari watching him in amusement, he pressed his hand on her left breast, his hand curving slightly at the rounded edges.

"Young," she told him, smirking, and he rolled his eyes and continued to knead her breast. She was probably right, but she wasn't protesting and Shikamaru knew she wouldn't, not by the way she smiled at him softly and stroked his back, fingering the several scars that she knew by heart.

During sex, they never rushed - despite being the loud-mouth, feisty, and troublesome woman Shikamaru thought Temari to be, she enjoyed taking her time, and took an avid interest in his body. Shikamaru knew that she had seen better, but for some odd reason, Temari liked to nose at his thin chest, grope his protruding hipbones, and always ran her hands on the canvas of his back.

At first, when they first started this thing between them, he was uncomfortable at the prospect of taking off his clothes entirely; he was self-conscious, and she was so much older - what if he disappointed her with his defined, but small muscles? But Temari had had none of it, and demanded that he show her anyway, because she didn't like the thought of clothes scratching at her bare skin. Arguing was pointless, especially when Temari was determined to get her way, and so he had shucked off his clothes in the most un-erotic manner (as Temari had told him) and braced himself for the criticism that would undoubtedly be hurled at him. It never came; Temari had made a noise of satisfaction and delight, and merely draped herself over him with her forehead in the crook of his neck, one hand on his hipbone, and the other tracing lines and circles on his back.

Temari's body, Shikamaru noted as Temari kissed at his jaw, was nothing short of beautiful. She wasn't as well-endowed as the Hokage (but that was okay, because Shikamaru was a bit intimidated by the sheer size of them), or even Ino, but her breasts fit into his hands perfectly. Her hips flared slightly, and they were his favorite part of her body. He enjoyed placing his hands on them, rocking her hips slowly against his, and he especially loved her thighs; they weren't stick thin like the other girls in his generation, but muscular and womanly. She gripped his waist with her inner thighs, and he ran his hands down from her hips, to her ass, and underneath her thighs, reveling the contours of muscle he felt there.

Sometime during his observation, Temari removed their lower garments, returned to her perch on Shikamaru's lap, and before long, Shikamaru was pushing into her, slowly, and Temari took to kissing him, grimacing slightly at the blunt intrusion. But Temari wasn't one to complain, especially not during sex. Temari told him time and time again that she didn't believe in talking during sex, but Shikamaru knew he wasn't imagining her whispering pleas and words of encouragement into his ears as they slowly rocked their way to ecstasy. But Shikamaru wasn't going to point out that fact to her, especially because it wasn't every day the sand kunoichi lost her composure.

And so it didn't surprise Shikamaru when she suddenly pulled away from his lips and rested her head on his shoulder with her lips grazing his ear. She hands, small and calloused, gripped at his shoulders, concentrating on pressing her hips against his, and then she started whispering.

At first, she didn't say a word, or at least, she didn't say a coherent word that Shikamaru could understand. She puffed air against his ear, mewing with a slightly desperate edge, and then, softly and breathlessly, "Shikamaru, please."

Shikamaru never answered her, concentrating on his pleasure and her pleasure, and hissed when she suddenly raked her nails up and down his back. He was tempted to go faster, eager to feel more of the delicious zing he felt crawl up his spine, but he held back. It was more rewarding to go slow, especially for an unmotivated person like him; it didn't require as much work, and it made more sense to enjoy and savor the moment.

"God," Temari whispered, desperately now, but kept the slow and steady pace. Her body trembled against his, and he turned his head slightly to kiss her ear, and she gripped at his back. Shikamaru's vision began to blur around the edges, and he vaguely noticed the small table and the abandoned shogi board. He wanted to laugh - how a simple game of shogi had resulted into sex, he would never know, but of course, it was never a simple game. Every time they played, he knew he would be irrevocably aroused. Temari, and her furrowed brows. Temari, who played shogi with him, because she knew it was one of his favorite past times. And Temari, for being Temari, loud-mouth, feisty, and troublesome. She wasn't just a pretty face, or a nice piece of ass (as Kiba had so kindly told him). Shikamaru knew he was doomed to fall for her from the moment she smiled at him during the aftermath of Tayuya's demise, and the moment she caught him playing shogi with Asuma-sensei and demanded that he teach her. And honestly, he couldn't see him falling for anyone else but her.

And then, Temari began to grind her hips down more earnestly, scratching his back with vigor, and Shikamaru hissed again, feeling his impending orgasm, and when Temari whispered -

"God, I love you."

- he saw stars, clouds, and fans. He saw sandstorms, cheeky grins, and chess pieces. He groaned in her ear, and even when it was finished, they continued to rock their hips against each other, and Temari sighed.

"You should stay here for the night," Temari said lightly, lazily tracing a finger up and down his back. Shikamaru knew it wasn't a suggestion, because Temari never said anything lightly. It was a statement, a demand under disguise, and Shikamaru shrugged.

"Maybe," he said, his hands openly roaming against her naked back and hips. Temari laughed, and suddenly pushed him down onto the floor. He went with a thump, and he stared up at her, unimpressed.

"You're staying," Temari told him this time, removing herself from his lap, and instead took to lying next to him. She tugged at his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders, and she nestled her head against the crook of his neck, and Shikamaru sighed.

"As if I'd move," Shikamaru drawled, turning to look at her. She smiled, teeth and all, and chuckled.

"Such a lazy bastard," she said fondly, kissing him on the breast. "I'd kick your ass under any other circumstances."

"And then there's your mouth," Shikamaru sighed morosely, turning to stare at the ceiling. "Ruins everything. What a pain in the - "

"As if you're any better," Temari retorted, running a finger across his chest. "I saw the way you were leering at me when we were playing shogi. I hope I'm the only one you leer at, or else I'll be terribly upset."

Shikamaru couldn't stop the blush that crawled up his neck. "Troublesome," he muttered, and Temari laughed, hooking her ankle around his calf. He looked back at her, and she glanced at him, her eyes crinkled with mischief.

"Good night," she said after a long minute of comfortable silence. She kissed him chastely, before snuggling against him. He pulled the closest garment towards them - his chuunin vest - and draped it over them. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut, and waited for her breathing to even out. Then, tracing her jaw with his hand, he kissed her cheek, his cheeks tinted pink as he did so.

Shikamaru knew that when he returned home the following morning, his mother was going to have his head. He knew that the meeting tomorrow with the other exam proctors was going to be tedious and troublesome. He knew that Temari was going to drag him off to a vacant training ground, demanding that after (she 'kicked his ass') they trained, he was to buy her lunch and maybe even dinner. And he knew that Temari, after inviting him to her room at the inn, would shyly take out her shogi set and ask him to play, because she knew he liked it. Because Temari knew how to give after she takes, and because for Shikamaru, she was willing to do anything, even though she always told him otherwise.

"I guess I love you," he mumbled to her sleeping form, feeling slightly foolish for confessing his feelings as if he were a lovestruck girl. If Temari were awake, she'd laugh at him for being uncharacteristically emotional, which was really why he waited until she fell asleep. She could be so troublesome sometimes…

No. Or, yes. Temari was troublesome. She was a loud-mouth, she was feisty, and she enjoyed teasing him ruthlessly. But Shikamaru supposed Temari wasn't too bad, underneath her haughty demeanor. She had a nice smile, she was clever, and she liked shogi.

Life, for the most part, was good.

AN: It's not really smut, but...tell me what you think. :)