Naruto Scenarios: High School [RESULT] Home.Ec; Shikamaru

You loved sweets.

Cookies, cake, ice-cream, custard tarts… You name it and you’ve tried it. Most likely gorged on it for two hours straight. (Don’t ask. Long story.) Your love of sweets could rival that of Naruto’s love of ramen. SERIOUSLY.

You loved everything about sweets. The look, the taste, the smell…

And that was exactly what you were practically getting high off of right now — the intoxicating smell of home baked cookies, fresh out the oven.

You were staring blissfully at another pairs cookies as they placed them on their bench, a ecstatic looking in your eyes.

“____-chan?”
You were so preoccupied with the magnetic pull of the cookies not ten feet infront of you, that you completely ignored the calling of your name at your ear. You never noticed the small line of drool left the corner of mouth, which was gaping open.

“____-chan!”
You let out a small yelp when your cooking partner, Shikamaru, had grabbed your ear and yelled loudly. (Well, as loud as the lazy bastard does yell anyway.)

“GAHH! What?!”
Shikamaru sighed, running a hand through his hair and facepalming. “God, woman. Pay attention. You’re so troublesome.”
“Why does it not surprise me that you’re saying that?” You shot back, huffing and turning up your nose.

Shikamaru made a grunting noise and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and resting his chin on his chest, closing his eyes. “Whatever. Would you just finish so we can get out of here? I’d like to leave before I’m thirty.”
“You know, you could help.” You drawled suggestively, turning back to the bowl of ingredients you were currently mixing.

“I could…”
You groaned out loud, rolling your eyes heavenward. “Lazy bastard…” You muttered under your breath, throwing the measuring cup you had in your hand a little too hard into the stainless steel sink next to you.

You weren’t great friends with Shikamaru. Even the fact that you’d been in the exact same class every year since pre.k, made no difference. The two of you were just way too different to ever become friends.

You were hard-working and dedicated.

Shikamaru was lazy and easygoing.

You were serious and high-strung.

Shikamaru was calm and practically comatose more often than not. Sometimes you were very tempted to poke him with a stick just to see if he was still breathing.

*And…* You thought bitterly, *…he’s a genius.*

You… were not. Let’s just keep it at that. (Example: his IQ, somewhere over 200. Your IQ: somewhere waaaaay lower than that. Think the 100s.)

A long sigh left your mouth at the thought of the fact. Probably the only thing you ever despised of Shikamaru was his intelligence. You worked hard every single day of your life, and you got NO-WHERE. He did absolutely jack all, and he was a GENIUS.

So, yes. You were a little bitter of all his success.

Your eye twitched and you scowled down at the cookie dough below you.

“…And just what did the cookie dough do to you to earn such a glare, eh, ____-chan?” You heard a hauntingly familiar voice ask. The voice that haunts your nightmares.
You turned on the bleary-eyed Shikamaru, a deep frown touching your lips at his nonchalant pose. Leaning back on the chair, his hands behind his head, eyes half closed, staring pointedly at you.
“Nothing!” You snapped, turning swiftly on your heel and stalking off to the ingredients table. You were still grumbling under your breath when Temari, one of your friend’s from history class, chuckled after she heard you cursing Shikamaru’s name.

“Trouble in paradise?” She teased, nudging you in the ribs playfully. You swatted her elbow away, a faux scowl on your smiling lips.

“You don’t even know the half of it.” You sighed, grabbing at a shaker of nutmeg. “Why couldn’t I have gotten a coward like your’s for a partner instead?” You complained. “Shikamaru isn’t helping at all.”
“Because our home.ec teacher loves me. And I rule my bitches with an iron fist.” Temari punched her fist into her palm at this to demonstrate her point.

Your eye twitched. “Your… bitches?”
“Yup.”
“Riiiiiiiiiight…”
There was a pause, filled only with you muttering under your breath as your eyes scanned the wide array of ingredients infront of you for the chocolate chips.

“____-chan, seriously; if your husband ain’t doing his job, you should tell him off. I suggest the baking tray you are currently not using.”

A smile tugged your lips, and you laughed. “Maybe I should get a divorce.” You joked.

“Nah, just therapy, my friend. Lots and lots of therapy. I’ll bet money it’s because of all that sexual tension between you two.”

You punched a laughing Temari in the arm, scowling and blushing furiously. “SHUT UP!”
“Don’t deny it ‘cause it’s true~!” Temari sang before she danced away from your clawing hands and laughed insanely.

“Maniac.” You mused, smiling and ignoring the heat hovering on your cheeks. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, the red colour slowly disappeared, and you made your way back to your station, shoulders back and head held high.

Shikamaru was lazing back on his chair. Not like that surprised you. Your eyebrow ticked angrily and you arm raised back, before you let your clenched fist fall down to collide with his skull, making a satisfying clunk sound.

You smirked widely at his loud yelp, and even wider when he cursed under his breath and rubbed at his head, frowning. “What the…?”
You bent down to his level, a sugary-sweet smile plastered across your lips. Too sweet. Like the executioner before the execution. “Shika-kun? Sweetie? Are you awake now, honey?”
Shikamaru stared at you wordlessly, asking you if you had issues just with his apathetic eyes. “…Shika-kun?” He deadpanned.

“Oh, good.” You said faux cheerfully, clapping your hands together over-dramatically. “Now you’re awake you can help me with the cookies, right, Shika-kun?”
Shikamaru continued staring at you. “…Shika-kun? Are you high?”
Your bubbly exposition fell through for a moment. Your demeanour instantly darkened and you cracked your knuckles warningly, your smile turning into a devilish one as you loomed over him once more. “RIGHT?”
Shikamaru sighed and stood up, stretching out the kinks in his body before yawning lightly and muttering under his breath, “What a drag…”
You finally snapped, and you gripped at his collar, eyes flashing. “I’ll drag you in a minute if you don’t help me!” You yelled, shaking him for greater effect. “Now, get your ass over to that bench and do something for once in your miserable little life, or so help me GOD, I’ll—!”

“Alright, alright. What a drag…” Shikamaru interrupted, effortlessly removing himself out of your grip which caused you to twitch in irritation. “Troublesome woman. I’ll help.”

“You’re dame right you will.” You repeated, satisfied at your work. “You can start by greasing the baking tray.”
Shikamaru stared at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “Are you serious? You woke me up to grease a pan?”

“SHIKAMARU!” You yelled, slapping him upside the head once more. “Do as I tell you or I’ll personally cut off your ponytail with a potato peeler! Don’t ask me how; I’ll just do it!”

“Man, you sound like my mother…” Shikamaru muttered, already dipping the brush into oil and smoothing the golden yellow liquid over the backing tray.

“Then I think she and I would get along quite well.” You replied sweetly, dumping the chocolate chips into the dough and stabbing the wooden spoon into the bowl in your anger.

*God, he just pisses me off so MUCH!* You screamed inwardly. *Why is he so successful, damn it?! Why is he a genius so easily?! WHY HASN’T HE EVER HAD TO WORK FOR SOMETHING IN HIS LIFE EVER?!*

A bitter sigh cut through your thoughts, along with a gentle touch on your hand. “____-chan, I don’t know what the bowl did now, but you’re about to break it. Loosen up for once.”

*DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO YOU LAZY SHI—!!*
You instantly froze and glanced down at the hand as it gently yet effortlessly (some part of your mind screeched, enraged at the fact that he was succeeded by doing practically nothing AGAIN) removing your clenched grip from around the wooden spoon, and followed up its arm to see Shikamaru with an amused smirk on his face.

You made a face at him, tugging your hand away and poking out your tongue childishly at him. “Shut up. I don’t need your help.”
Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because I think I do recall you threatening me into helping you not five minutes ago, ____-chan.”

You scowled, blushing darkly, which only made his smirk grow wider and your scowl deepen in response. “Yeah, well… you’re stupid!” You finished lamely. God, you really needed to brush up on your comeback skills… desperately.

Shikamaru clutched at his heart dramatically. “Oh, no.” He drawled sarcastically. “Please, no, ____-chan. That was so hurtful.”
“GAHH! I hate you so much!” You screamed. You ignored the sharp tug in your chest as soon as those words fell from your mouth. You simply brushed it off as indigestion. (Boy, were you wrong.)

Shikamaru fell silent at this, turning back to his job greasing the baking tray with a small frown on his face. “…Whatever…” His frown deepened. “…Troublesome woman…”
Surprisingly, a flash of the emotion called guilt washed over you, and you sighed loudly, inwardly groaning at what you were about to say. It felt like admitting defeat!
“…I’m… ugh. I’m sorry, Shikamaru. I don’t hate you.” You finally blurted, stirring even quicker and harder at the defenceless cookie dough beneath your hands in your embarrassment.

Shikamaru chuckled low in his throat, and you ignored the funny feeling in the bottom your stomach at the sound of it. *Just more indigestion.* You figured, nodding to yourself.

“I already knew that, ____-chan. I’m not stupid.”
You growled, scowling. *Jackass.*

A long silence fell over the two of you, with nothing but the sounds of your wooden spoon clanging against the bowl and the scratchy sounds of Shikamaru and the baking tray, until you had subconsciously began humming quietly to yourself, a small smile on your lips.

Shikamaru watched you silently through the corner of his eye. “…You really enjoy this, don’t you?”
You stopped your humming and glanced at him, blinking. “Enjoy what?”

Shikamaru gestured towards their station. “This. Cooking.”
A wide smile spread across your mouth, causing Shikamaru to blink in surprise. You’d never smiled at him like that. And he’d known you for over 10 years.

“Yes.” You gushed. “It’s the best. I’ve always loved cooking, for as long as I can remember—”

Shikamaru was instantly… well… smitten at the way your eyes sparkled as you prattled on about your dreams and how you’d seen the Iron Chef when your were three and decided that was what you were going to be when you grew up. Even if you died while getting there.

That was another thing Shikamaru loved about you. Your determination. Your headstrongness. YOU.

Yes… he loved all those things. He had no problem admitting it.

His eyes fell to your still frantically stirring hands, and he chuckled low in his throat. “You’re getting the dough everywhere.”

You blinked at him, dumbfounded at his sudden different train of conversation, but you stared down at the bowl in your hands and sighed bitterly at the blobs of dark cookie dough that spotted the bench, your apron, even your hands. Somehow — god knows how you managed that — some had made it onto your face.

“Shit.” You cursed. Before you could blink, you felt a presence behind you, overpowering your senses. “Shika—?”

“Here, stir it like this.”

Shikamaru brought his arms around you and placed his hands over yours, then guided them around the bowl. You felt his chest press up against your back and you blinked several times in rapid unison, shocked at his sudden forwardness.

What was even more shocking was the fact that you didn’t even mind.

“There you go… that’s better.” He murmured softly in your ear. His warm breath tickled the back of your neck, but you were so stiff and awkward you never noticed the goose bumps that crawled across your skin. Which, of course, Shikamaru could feel, being as his form bended completely around yours, like a living shadow. ((Ironic, wouldn’t you say?))

You could feel every move he made. Every flex of his muscles, every twitch, his chest heaving slightly from every breath he took.

He chuckled deeply, before his lips ghosted across your neck and you shivered despite yourself, your eyes widening to bulging point. He planted soft kisses from the base of your neck to just under your chin and stopped stirring the batter. He seemed to pause there, before swiftly turning you in his arms, your wrists held firmly in his hands.

You were at his complete mercy.

Again, it was surprising that you weren’t in the least bit angry. Simply confused. (Maybe even a little excited, though you’d never admit it to yourself, let alone out loud.)

“Sh-Shikamaru?” You squeaked.

“Ah, you’ve got batter on your hands. Let me clean it off for you.”

It was then when he lifted your captured hand in his and brought your fingers to his lips. He kissed it gently before taking it in his mouth and sucking lightly. You trembled in his grasp, eyes wide and mouth agape, before Shikamaru simply gazed down at you with dark, intense eyes that made you gulp.

“Nn. What a drag.” He muttered. You could hear the playfulness in his husky tone, and it made your fingers twitch with the strange need to touch him. “You’ve got dough on your lip, too.”
Your eyes widened. *He wouldn’t.*
Oh, but he would.

In one swift move, Shikamaru’s warm tongue had licked across your lip, taking away the wet cookie batter with it.

And then your self control snapped like thread, and you instantly pushed your head back up to his and crashed your mouth against his. The Nara responded instantaneously and his hands fell from gripping at your hands and wrapped around your waist, pulling you up onto the bench and kissing you harder.

You both ignored the noisy crashing and clanging of your bowls and pans as they fell forgottento the ground below, too involved in each other’s lips and breath and hands to care.

However, the students around you did notice… both the loud noise and the two wildly kissing teenagers covered in cookie dough not ten feet away from them.

Yes. You and Shikamaru were just way too different to ever become friends.

You were hard-working and dedicated.

Shikamaru was lazy and easygoing.

You were serious and high-strung.

Shikamaru was calm and practically comatose more often than not.

...But that didn’t mean you could become more than friends, now, did it?