"Silence, Silver and Gold"

-

Silence is golden.

Or, in this case, silver—silver like the moonlight swathed across the roofs of Konoha, pearl-silted rain of a still afternoon. In Shino's eyes, this too is Kiba's way: it is just like the boy's pack-mentality to place his den above everyone else's, in another pointless attempt to assert his dominance.

But even in Shino's eyes, the vista would have drawn out an involuntary breath, had he cared to look.

Kiba's bed is big and rumpled and soft and nothing more than a shapeless mass in the middle of the living room and the kitchen. When Shino lays his cheek against the blankets, they are musky, overpowering, heady scent of Kiba pervading anything and everything. So Shino stays upright, stiff and silent, and lets his bugs fill the dark folds he is afraid he will be lost in.

Shino keeps his hands propped under his chin, like he's thinking, thinking of something deep and shadowy and his behind those ubiquitous shades.

But he knows that if he lets his hands fall, they will find the mass of warmth and spiky softness in his lap as though of their own accord. And Shino can't let that happen, even if Kiba is asleep, and when Kiba is asleep he curls up to the nearest living thing like the puppy in his arms, soft and small and so, so warm.

Shino knows this, and he knows Kiba doesn't, because he's always careful to get up before Kiba does.

And he knows because this isn't the first time. Necessity, simple need for human contact, whatever—anything goes on a mission, as long as neither talks about it too much. As long as it isn't done, spoken of, thought of outside of missions.

This is not a mission.

So Shino contemplates the moon, and whether or not he dares to close his eyes, tonight.

-

ende

A/N: Second Naruto fic ever… About time.