The bedroom door bounces off the wall with a bang and hits the tangled mass of Ino and Sakura on the rebound. They only laugh in response, not even pausing in their stumble towards the bed. The door slowly eases itself closed behind them, blacking out most of the harsh light of the hallway. They probably should have turned that off, but neither of them has any intention of going back out there tonight.
About a foot from the bed, they stop, swaying place as they explore each other with hands and mouths, teeth and tongues. Ino’s fingers get caught in Sakura’s belt, eliciting a curse from the former and a snorting laugh from the latter. A bit of a scuffle ensues as they work to get her free. Soon, they’ve disentangled themselves completely and are standing inches from each other, breathing loud and harsh in the dark. There’s still a hint of laughter under Sakura’s breath and Ino huffs, turning up her nose.
Sakura’s laughter turns to a crooning, “awww,” as she reaches out to sooth a hand down the side of Ino’s face. Ino spares a glance and sees the hunger still in Sakura’s eyes; she grins, stretching her uncoordinated limbs to show off her body. When Sakura’s gaze begins to wander down, Ino takes Sakura’s hand in her own and lets herself flop backward in a move that’s almost graceful.
She misses the bed entirely and lands in an undignified heap on the floor, squawking her protest. Sakura barely saves herself from a similar fate, her hand still in Ino’s, by jamming one knee into the corner of the bed and catching the edge with her free hand. She has just enough coordination to lean down and smother her renewed laughter into a fistful of blankets.
“Hey,” Ino says, struggling to push herself into a sitting position. Hearing the slur in her voice, she clears her throat and manages, more clearly, “Hey. Wha-what’re you laughing at, huh?”
Sakura hums as though contemplating, turning her face to peek at Ino with one eye. The hum resolves itself into an answer: “You.”
“What about me,” Ino demands, tugging on Sakura’s hand partly in admonishment and partly to help herself sit.
“You,” Sakura says again, then has to hide another round of giggles. There’s another tug on her hand and she finally declares, “You are– you’re drunk!”
She doesn’t bother to hide her giggling again, as Ino gasps so hard that she coughs. Sakura is still laughing when Ino tugs on her again, so sharply this time that Sakura is dislodged from her perch and her knees hit the floor somewhere among Ino’s.
“I,” Ino declares in scandalized tones, “am a lady.”
Snorting in amusement even as she nuzzles into Ino’s neck, Sakura says, “You’re drunk, lady.”
Ino shoves at Sakura, indignant, but misjudges the distance, the angle and her own strength, so that it’s more like she’s pawing at Sakura’s sides. Sakura hums, high with amusement, and paws Ino in return, pressing her body close. The move overbalances them both and they fall to the floor. It isn’t long before Ino forgets that she was upset, seeking Sakura’s lips with her own. Things are getting back on the track they started down, though at a more sluggish pace now than before, when–
Ino cries a sharp, “Ow, ow, ow!”
“What, what, what?” Sakura asks, shifting her knees and elbows without any sense of coordination as she tries to find and alleviate the source of the problem without actually getting up. Her movements are beginning to drag.
“My hair,” Ino says, cringing, neck at an odd angle. “We’re on my hair.”
After another few seconds of struggle, Ino makes an angry noise from deep in her chest and shoves Sakura off of her with much more success than the last attempt, not caring when Sakura squeals her discontent. It’s another few seconds still before she can figure out which way to move to free her trapped hair. She hardly gives Sakura a second glance where she’s now sitting and pouting, arms crossed, instead petting the ponytail pulled over her shoulder and crooning at it in soothing tones.
“Ugh,” Sakura says to get Ino’s attention.
“Ow,” Ino emphasizes without taking attention from her hair.
Sakura heaves a mighty sigh, dragging the high note out so long it strains in her throat. It’s Ino who giggles at Sakura this time, eyes glittering in what light is still creeping into the room. Sakura huffs, snorts and then flops down half beside and half on top of Ino. There’s a short grunt of protest, but Ino at last abandons her abused hair to wrap Sakura up in her arms and pull her close.
They settle in there on the floor, shifting and wiggling to get comfortable, cuddling and nuzzling. Just as their eyes are slipping closed, Sakura frowns. She pulls away just slightly, jolted by memory; when Ino’s eyes slit open, the look in them questioning, Sakura explains, “I just– weren’t we– sex?”
A short, sharp hum and then Ino is pulling her back into position with her head near Ino’s heart. Around a yawn, Ino says, “No, we’re– sleep.”
There’s a soft, “oh,” from Sakura, a yawn to match Ino’s, then she settles at Ino’s side and closes her eyes again. Sleep sounds good– and a lot easier just now too.