Prequel of Game On - KISS CAM AU

Title: Half-time
Rating: T
Words: 2037

Notes: I don't know the first thing about Hockey (please forgive me!).

This is a prequel of the previous chapter, telling the tale of how they met.

~Happy Reading!

She came to watch the game. To see the players. To drink beer and eat a greasy hot dog. And these people are slowly, but surely, ruining her night.

The Leaf is kicking ass and up by fifteen points. But she can barely see that. Why? Well, because there are two freakishly tall people sitting in front of her!

If that is not enough, they are wearing two ridiculous long hats! Those green-white hats they sell outside while people are waiting in line. Ugh!

"Come on, come on, move that pretty ass, Inuzuka!" Sakura shouts when she gets a glance of one of her favorite players as he finally takes the puck the right way. "Faster!"

"Are you fucking blind?" She curses loudly, throwing her arms up in exasperation when he misses an easy pass. "That makes two of us," she mutters then, irritated; she can't see half of the things happening in the court.

She looks around herself, because she can't be the only one bothered by this ridiculous blockade. But as she observes all the people enjoying the game, she confirms that in fact, she is the only one. Why? Well, try being five-feet-four for starters.

In her search, she finds more than one answer though: yes, she's the only one not enjoying the game in that section. And yes! There's a free seat just a row below hers.

Her eyes move left and right in anticipation, because she's about to steal that seat, and she feels like a five-year-old kid stealing a cookie before dinner. She takes a deep breath and sprints towards her goal. Nobody really notices her; she's almost crouching and she's also… small.

She sits smugly. With a triumphant smirk tugging her lips, she crosses one leg over the other, resting her forearms on the armrests. Sakura feels like a queen; she's on her throne and her new view is ah-mazing! It's completely clear of any possible obstruction.

Five minutes pass, and then ten. The game is flowing smoothly, her eyes are glued to the rink. When ten minutes turn into fifteen, she doesn't even remember that the seat is not hers.

She's half seating, half hoisting herself on top of the seat, when the team makes a recovery. Sakura curses and then roars, trembling in excitement, as Uzumaki brings the puck forward and it enters the goal.

It's the most emotional, nerve-wrecking combination of passes of the night, and she throws her arms up, tight fists proudly in the air. The home team gains the upper hand again!

"Cha!" She shouts, joining the deafening cheering of the arena.

She thinks she hears someone clearing their throat. Sakura ignores it, turning her attention back to the puck as it glides on the ice. Inuzuka is leading again, and she holds her breath as he—

Suddenly, there's a black wall in front of her.

What the—

Sakura blinks once, then twice, raising her gaze up to meet the sexiest death glare she's ever seen. She does a double take, because this guy… and those dark eyes are unbelievably tempting.

Fuck. Me.

Although she's certain she could lose herself in those eyes, she narrows her own and says, "excuse me," because he's in front of her and she's missing the game, again.

He doesn't move.

"You make a better wall than a window," she points out impatiently.

"Excuse me."

"You heard me, now shoo," she moves her arms in a sweeping motion, urging him to disappear from her perfect view.

He doesn't, and she hears a little tsk sound coming from above her. She looks up, annoyed, and almost forgets that this tall guy, with smoldering dark eyes, and messy dark hair, is beautiful and might just take her breath away.

"Yes?" she asks then, eyes narrowing again.

"I said, 'excuse me'. This seat is mine."

Oh.

"Is it?" But the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. She sounds skeptical; probably because she had forgotten that this is not her original seat. She remembers that two seconds too late, and her pride doesn't allow her to take it back now. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, it is my seat." He says through gritted teeth, and Sakura notices that his arms are slightly shaking as he holds two fists to his sides. He's most likely telling the truth, but still, she needs to double check; this is a great seat after all, and she's not giving it up for nothing. So, she asks:

"Can I see your ticket?"

"What?"

"I don't believe you."

"I don't need to prove anything to you. Now, move."

Their voices are escalating and he's almost barking at her at this point. She doesn't move though, but she stands up, keeping a bent knee on the stolen seat, staking her weak claim to it.

"If you are telling the truth, then there's no harm in showing me the ticket!" She yells back, exasperated, but also because he might not hear it. He huffs, leaning an inch closer as he starts to search his pockets. She almost falters.

When he moves his hands to his back pockets, patting them with both hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Sakura gets back a bit of the confidence she had just lost. She moves her hands to rest on her hips, and notices that during all this fuss, they haven't broken eye contact even once.

She's about to tell him that she doesn't have all day, but then a song filters through the arena's speakers, and she turns her head to the forgotten courtyard. It seems, she thinks, it's half-time and—

Sakura looks at the small side screen and startles. She moves her gaze towards the giant screen above the court for confirmation. Sure enough, she sees herself and the cranky stranger there, with hearts all around their faces.

"Oh shit, we are on the kiss cam," she curses, wide eyes pushing her pink eyebrows up.

"What—"

"We can't kiss… I don't even know you," she whispers more to herself, not expecting him to hear it.

"Kiss her!" Someone yells from a few rows behind them, "kiss her or I will!"

"Get it girl!" Another enthusiastic person screams from somewhere around them.

The guy, still standing in front of her, looks not affected; like this is not happening and these people are not yelling about them.

Did he just sigh? Was he annoyed? She narrows her eyes.

"Kiss her, kiss her!"

The chant starts slowly with the people in their section, but in just a few seconds the entire arena is demanding they kiss.

"Kiss, Kiss, Kiss!"

Sakura is blushing so hard she is sure her face will melt off at any moment. She looks around at all the traitorous spectators that surround her, silently willing them to shut the fuck up.

He arches a dark eyebrow, the question 'what are you gonna do?' is left unsaid, but she takes it as a challenge; her hand lifts on its own accord to the side of his neck.

Her eyes search his for a heartbeat, giving him one chance to push her away if he wishes so. And they are so dark, bottomless even; it feels like they are waiting for her, willing for her to find whatever it is that she's looking for.

She raises herself on her tiptoes, bringing his neck down towards her, closing the distance between them in a swift, fluid movement that would put any romcom couple to shame. Her eyes close out of habit, but also because she wants to disappear as hundreds of people watch her kiss this stranger. She only hopes this won't end up online.

Sakura isn't sure what she expected but she was never, ever kissed like this before.

The kiss is chaste at first; lips smashed together but barely moving. Then, his lips press softly against hers, moving slowly and capturing her bottom lip. He holds it between his own for a moment and she thinks that is it, he'd pull away and the kiss would be over.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he pulls back a fraction and watches her through half-lidded eyes, only to dive back in, this time with more enthusiasm than before.

His arm embraces her, holding her tight to him. He lifts her slightly and the arena loses it; cheering, screaming, egging them on.

She is cupping his face with one hand, while the other one threads her fingers in his hair, marveling at its softness. She uses that hand to tilt his head just right, because dammit, if he isn't tall. With the angle change, she feels his tongue teasing her, swiping leisurely over the seam of her lips.

She decides then, that she has two options: get off this stranger and end the kiss or give in and get lost in him.

Sakura opens her mouth for him, whimpering as she feels him entering, his tongue tangling with hers.

And then she knows; she never had a choice.

She hums as a thumb ghosts her jawline. Fingers brush her cheek, scratch her scalp, fisting a handful of pink locks.

And she wonders how they will take her off that arena, because she can't move and won't move anytime soon. Sakura feels herself melting against him, and suddenly she's falling… and it's fast, and deep-deep-deep.

He swipes his tongue in and out, and then he goes back to paying special attention to her bottom lip. He continues on and on this endless cycle of the sexiest kiss she ever had. Or are they making out now?

The arena is hollering at this point, whistling loudly, yelling obscenities, and she is sure the camera is still on them; it certainly wouldn't pull away when they are giving the audience such a show.

Their heated embrace probably – definitely – passed the point of acceptable PDA, but she doesn't care. The only thing that matters at the moment is his perfect mouth on hers, and the way he grips her towards him as if he owns her.

It does end, eventually – to the dismay of everyone, including hers. They break apart to breathe – or maybe because it was becoming too much – but their hands remain on each other. They are panting, breathless, staring lazily at one another.

The crowd gives them a thunderous round of applauses and catcalls. She feels the urge to smile, and so she does. It's bashful, but it's sincere, and she watches with bated breath as his lips curl up into a smirk.

"You have an exceptionally delicious mouth," she blurts out because he had just kissed her stupid. She needs, Sakura realizes, more oxygen in her brain; thinking straight is not a priority right now.

"Ditto," his reply is barely a whisper, but she catches it. Her lips mirror his own.

He takes the seat then, and while he slouches down, he makes sure to keep their eyes locked. He's still an infuriating bastard… with fiery dark yes, and a wonderful, skilled mouth. He's also impossibly hot and she's craving him—

So, just like that, she brushes off their fight and plops down in his lap, making herself comfortable. Before he can protest, she turns sideways and peers up at him.

"I don't know if this is your seat," he opens his mouth to object, but she's faster. "You don't have the ticket on you, so we're sharing it."

Without hesitation, Sakura drops her head on his shoulder and nuzzles his neck with the tip of her nose, taking in his mouthwatering scent. It's a bold move, she thinks, instigating a level of intimacy that strangers don't share.

But then again, she feels him relaxing under her – an internal battle leaving him. And for that, she's glad.

"So, do you come to these games often?" He asks in a teasing tone that makes her giggle.

"Yeah, I've got season tickets."

"Same. Big Leaf fan?"

"Yup! I've grown up here, so it's hard not to be."

"Aa."

He throws an arm around her waist; a hand squeezes her side possessively, and she can't hold the shiver that runs down her back.

That's it.

The most epic half-time of her life. Nothing else can beat it.

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Let me know what you think!

P.S. I don't have a beta, so please tell me if there are any mistakes. Thank you :)

xoxo