title: aftermath
summary: Ino, Shikamaru, and the affair that was never supposed to happen.
pairings: ShikaIno, ShikaTema.
warnings: This story is told in flashbacks/broken timeframe. Should only be two chapters.

The first time they fuck is a week before his wedding.

"Tell me you love me and I won't follow through with it."

Ino meets him at the gate of Konoha.

She brings him flowers because she thinks it's fitting, considering the occasion. A happy, joyous occasion.

It's been a while since they've seen each other, and having missed the wedding ceremony altogether, she thought the bouquet would at least made up for her absence.

It's a pretty bouquet, really. Ino thinks it might be some of her best goddamn work.

Might be a shame that it's wasted on Shikamaru. Because suddenly, Ino comes to the slow realization that her old teammate probably couldn't care less about the flowers in her arms.

Knowing him, he probably wouldn't even bother putting them in a vase with water. (When you plucked them from the ground, they were already doomed to an inevitable death, is what he probably would say if she nagged him about it)

When he approaches from the distance, she notices that Temari is not with him. Ino is about to open her mouth and say something but Shikamaru catches her gaze and she clamps her mouth shut.

Something surprisingly uncharacteristic of her, but she chalks it up to a little bit of exhaustion (and a little bit of uncertainty).

After all, Shikamaru is a married man now. Who knows how much he's changed since he's been gone?

Tell me you love me and I won't follow through with it. The words still burn in her mind. But she knows that this is probably another conversation neither of them will ever acknowledge in the long run.

"Miss me?" Ino quips—she wants to strike the balance of flirty, but not overbearing.

It's probably something she'd say under any normal circumstance. Had it been something more serious, he might've found it suspicious.

This way, she could ease the tension with a mild joke.

"You wish," of course, Shikamaru doesn't miss a beat, eyes half-lidded.

Had it been a year or maybe even two years ago, he might've blushed. But he's older. Wiser. And he's probably accepted this bit of mindless flirtation a part of her character.

He knows she's trying to break the ice. He just wished she wasn't being so obvious about it.

Either way, he isn't falling for it.

Still, Ino puts on that thousand watt smile that almost wins him over. She hands him the bouquet, "Congratulations on being married! How does it feel to be hitched?"

For a guy who's just returned from his honeymoon, he looks pretty exhausted and sullen. Maybe it's from the journey.

Ino doesn't know. Despite the nature of her Shintenshin, she's having a hard time reading him.

Slowly, Shikamaru accepts the bouquet of flowers with some faint semblance of a smile. He doesn't know much about flowers, but the way she's arranged it seems prettier than usual. Or more aesthetically pleasing.

He remembers her question and replies noncommittally, "Honestly, it doesn't feel too different."

They're pretending it never happened.

Ino might've even fooled him. In the end, Shikamaru always thought that she could've been a flawless actress. The truth is, with the smile on and the hair pulled up, she could've fooled anyone.

"Boring answer—as usual," Ino points out wrinkling her nose.

Didn't anyone ever tell her that it was usually the boring, unobtrusive things that were the most dangerous? Shikamaru keeps this bit of information to himself.

"We're glad to have you back," she says, stepping onto her tippy toes and leaving a light, platonic peck on the cheek.

But when she pulls back, she lets her gaze linger a little too long on his lips.

There's something different about the way he looks today. It might've been the indifference written on his face like he didn't give a damn about anything but it also might've been the lining of his shoulders.

It's something she hasn't really noticed before.

So she kisses him on the lips.

It's completely unexpected. All these years of analysis and reading opponents couldn't have prepared Shikamaru for this.

The worst part is—he's too flustered to pull away.

It isn't her intention, but it's a kiss that's too quick and too rushed to have been meaningful. It might even have been accidental, but Ino is almost positive it doesn't feel that way.

She isn't sure if she wants it to feel that way.

But she does what she does best and puts on the biggest smile she can manage, "Well—I'll see you around! Maybe we can get lunch or something."

It's a noncommittal gesture of good faith and Shikamaru can see through her easily.

The truth is, it's a fact that neither of them will concede.

And if Shikamaru knows Ino well enough, he knows that she'll probably write this off as something insignificant. He might just write it off as a momentary lapse in judgment. He might even call it troublesome if he wants to perpetuate the caricature he's become.

"Don't forget to put the flowers in a vase," Ino says.

He doesn't get to say goodbye before she disappears down the main road.

3 weeks ago.

Ino looks broken.

She has this glaze in her eye that Shikamaru can't quite put his finger on. And it takes him a moment to register the fact that she's standing in the doorway of his apartment, completely soaked from the rain.

Her clothes are hugging her curves in all the right ways and her hair is dripping puddles on the floor of the corridor, sticking to her soft, pale skin.

Skin he wants to touch—skin he wants to press his lips again.

Shikamaru can see the goose bumps all over her arms and there's something about the way she's leaning against the frame of the doorway that makes him want to stand up a little bit straighter.

"Ino…" He decides to break the silence, "Are you okay?"

She's looking at him in all the wrong ways and he wants to say something—anything, really.

And if he were truly taking the mantle of responsibility like he said he would the day Asuma died, then he'd walk her home. Leave her at the doorstep, and that'd be the end of it. But instead, he chooses silence and trepidation in the face of adversity.

Suddenly, he doesn't quite recognize himself anymore.

"I failed a mission," she says.

The shuriken pouch around her leg drops to the floor with a soft clink, followed by the kunai she has hidden up the sleeves wrapped around her thigh. Her body is littered with all sorts of traps. There are some Shikamaru is familiar with, but there are even more that he's never noticed before.

He shouldn't be surprised, considering her line of work. And considering the fact that it's been nearly a year since he's been since on a mission with her. She's probably changed.

When Ino told him she intended on working in stealth, Shikamaru's response was to stop her. He laid down the statistics (60% of shinobi working in stealth wind up with some form of psychological trauma, and the field boasted a staggering 57% death rate).

But she was adamant and asked him if he trusted her.

Of course he did. He knew damn well he did.

The truth is, he couldn't trust anyone else in her field. They didn't know her like he did. And they didn't know what she could or couldn't handle.

Ino walks through, feet dragging against the hardwood floor. She leaves a puddle trailing her heel.

"Wait, you're going to get the floor—" Shikamaru begins to protest because he knows how Temari gets about the mess he makes whenever she returns home. But he decides to clamp his mouth shut.

His apartment has been clean—organized. It's something surprisingly unlike him but Ino forgets that he has a girlfriend living with him now, so she's trying to make him a better version of himself. Something contrived like that.

Ino spares a glance over her shoulder at the boy who's still standing by the doorway and asks, almost with an innocent glaze in her wide blue eyes, "Where's Temari-san?"

"She's on a mission," Shikamaru replies quietly, hesitating slightly before closing the door.

(Closes the doorway—this is where he makes the mistake)

"Oh," Ino replies turning back around, "I see."

She turns around and looks at the pictures lined up on top of their fireplace.

There are three. The first is a portrait of Temari, Gaara and Kankuro in the Sand Village. The Sand Siblings—she likes to call them.

The second is Shikamaru and Temari's marriage portrait. He looks a little awkward and heavy-handed, but it's a cute photo. Temari looks really beautiful, and for a second, Ino is jealous.

She shakes the thought off and moves to the third picture—her, Choji, Shikamaru and Asuma. Ino and Choji look happy, Shikamaru looks indifferent and Asuma has a small smile on his face, cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips.

"Remember our first mission as Team 10?" Ino quips with a small smile on her face, the memory coming back to her, "And Asuma-sensei fell into the Hanako River?"

Naturally, Shikamaru remembers too. But he sees this as a pointless piece of forced conversation on Ino's end. It might not necessarily seem that way, but he knows her better.

"Talk to me, Ino," he says sternly, "what happened?"

At once, the smile on her face vanishes.

Slowly, she manages to explain, "I let things get out of hand."

Shikamaru walks up next to her by the photographs. He considers putting a hand on her shoulder but the intimacy and tension might just be too much at this point. She's just too fragile and he's terrified she might break if he's not completely careful with her.

So he decides to reply noncommittally, "What kind of mission was it?"

But Ino leans her head against his shoulder, and he blanches immediately in response.

Despite the rain and despite the wet hair, she smells good. She smells like Ino. Like flowers on a rainy day. It's cliché and ridiculous but she's still the girl working in the Yamanaka Flower Shop to him.

The Girl in the Flower Shop. He smiles a little.

Maybe he always chalked it up to her being some kind of walking metaphor. Like sunshine personified.

Shikamaru doesn't ask her to move.

She looks back up at him.

Next thing he knows, their lips touch, and he's ripping off her clothes, throwing away the other weapons hidden up her sleeve. Her skin feels clammy and cold, and all he wants to do is wrap himself around her.

Her shorts come off, and so does her shirt. He throws her on the coach, gets on his knees and rips off her underwear.

Ino begins to protest, "Shikamaru—wait—"

But he doesn't listen.

Ino tastes so damn sweet—like a little package of innocence and blind trust that he never really took his attention away from. She moans, and he continues probing with his tongue.

He should be thinking this is wrong. Because it is.

But it doesn't feel wrong.

Shikamaru reviews the moment over and over again in his mind.

Her naked body. Her soft hands running through his hair. His mouth between her legs. Her writhing ecstasy. The way she tries to pull him closer. The way she cries out when she hits her peak.

The way her eyes glaze when he enters her—slowly, not all at once.

The way she convulses slightly when she comes.

The wetness from between her legs.

The way he feels inside of her. Taut, but not too tight. Fuck, it feels good.

The way her soft skin feels underneath his fingertips.

Warm.

There's knocking on the door.

Shikamaru stands up from where's sitting and walks to the entrance. He opens the door.

Ino.

"Oi, Shikamaru," she snaps, "you forgot—"

But her eyes narrow when she catches sight of the bouquet of flowers sitting on his dining table.

In a vase.

With water.

"You actually did it," Ino says, dumbly.

"It's not hard to put flowers into water," Shikamaru replies, slightly irked by the fact that she didn't think he could do even such a simple task.

But the truth is, he probably wouldn't have. Sure, flowers are aesthetically pleasing but he's never been the type to really give a damn. In the end, they're as good as dead once they're plucked from the ground.

Still, for him, she'll always be The Girl from the Flower Shop.

So he does it because he thinks it'll make her happy. Even if she might never see it.

"You forgot your ID at the gate," she says, handing him the rectangular acrylic card with his blurry photo stamped in the corner.

"Oh," this time, it was his turn to look dumb.

After all, he was the one thinking about fucking her only seconds ago. He didn't think she'd actually show up at his front door.

"Anyway, I'll see you around," Ino puts on her thousand watt smile, "let's just put this behind us, alright? Don't make the same mistake again."

At first, he thinks she's talking about the ID. But he comes to the slow realization that she's not.

She's talking about what happened.

It's the first time either of them have brought it up. Naturally, it takes him a moment to digest this. He doesn't actually have the strength to utter a reply.

Ino's staring at him expectantly, and her eyes are becoming increasingly glossy as the seconds tick down.

But then, she puts on another smile, the best goddamn smile she could manage under the circumstances, "Goodbye, Shikamaru."