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The Stag and the Bear

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  “Dad, I've got something to tell you. It''s not easy for me to say this, but...I'm in love...and it's not a girl. It's Chouji.”

Even now, a year on, Shikaku was still haunted by his son's words. Not because his son was gay – he had nothing against gay people, and he'd always suspected it anyway – but because Shikamaru's realisation had made him question his own sexuality. Maybe it was a midlife crisis, but going into his son's room in the mornings and seeing him lying contently in bed with Chouji Akimichi nestled against him, or the two of them walking through Konoha hand in hand, somehow triggered the realisation that Shikamaru might not be the only person in the Nara clan who had feelings for the same gender.

Ever since Yoshino had walked out one morning and never returned, Shikaku and his son had been left to fend for themselves, and they hadn't made a bad job of it, in Shikaku's opinion. Oh, there'd been a few problems at the start with the cooking and cleaning. Shikaku was the first to admit that he was not housetrained, and he'd had to learn how to use an iron, how to sew on buttons and mend holes, which washes to use for which articles of clothing. Good thing the Nara men were intelligent and quick learners. Gradually, the two of them began to adapt themselves to the new situation, and although Shikamaru missed his mum, he was over the worst. Ino, Chouji, Naruto and all the others had been great; Naruto's relentless cheeriness and Chouji's loyalty in particular had helped Shikamaru cope. A crisis, as Shikaku knew only too well, always brings out the best in people.

Although Shikamaru and his father had always been very open with each other, there were still, naturally, secrets in the family. Shikaku did not know that Shikamaru had been fucked by Chouji several times on the bed he and Yoshino had once shared, and Shikamaru did not know about the strange dreams his father had been having.

For when Shikaku closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep, his mind was flooded with images of men. Naked men, men removing their clothes, sweaty, strong, handsome men, of all colours and shapes, sucking Shikaku's cock, spreading their legs for him, bending over and letting him fuck them up the arse, being wrapped in shadows. Veritable hordes of men, bodies upon bodies upon bodies, upon him, below him, inside him, and not a woman in sight; in the rare occasions when Yoshino had appeared, her body would contort and twist until she became a man, her face replaced by a man's face. Shikaku had never had these dreams while Yoshino was around, and if he had had them as an adolescent, he could not remember; but every night it was the same. Shikaku would lie in bed, and dream of men.

One man in particular haunted Shikaku's dreams, and that man was his old team mate, Chouji's father.

Chouza Akimichi was not a handsome man. He had been described by an unkind former classmate as looking like a cross between an oni and a porcupine. Tall and red-haired, he was several stone overweight, and had chins to spare, purple stripes on his cheeks, and tiny, almost slit-like eyes. He was the polar opposite of Inoichi Yamanaka, the third member of the original Ino-Shika-Chou trio, whose long blond hair and toned, slender body had made him one of the most desirable men in Konoha. He was also the only member of the trio who was still happily married. Even before he'd started having these dreams, Shikaku had joked about going gay for Inoichi. Yet it was Chouza, big ugly Chouza, who appeared in Shikaku's dreams, not Inoichi. Silently, Shikaku reprimanded himself. The Akimichi clan head was a good man, loyal to his village, a kind and loving father to Chouji, and a good and faithful husband to Megumi, until she had been killed in Orochimaru's invasion three years ago. Shikaku remembered how Chouza had wept at the funeral, and how he and Inoichi had rallied round to help him and Chouji get back on their feet. He'd held that huge body in his arms and comforted the other man.

What I would give to hold him again.

Shikaku realised, with some embarassment, that he had ejaculated all over his bedsheet, for the third bloody time this week, too. Gods, how annoying. He was going to have to wash it again. Despite his new-found domesticity, Shikaku hated chores with a passion. They made him realise why Yoshino had been so grumpy all the time.

This could not go on any longer. He was going to have to talk to Chouza.

But how? And when?


Shikaku's opportunity came only a few days later, when Chouji came round to visit, with the news that his father needed some soldier pills. “We're out again, Shikaku-san,” he said apologetically, as Shikamaru went into the kitchen to make him some tea. “I mean, it's not urgent or anything, but...” He stopped, and looked uneasily at Shikaku.

“No problem,” Shikaku answered. “I was planning to make some more anyway. Leave it to me.”

As the two boys settled themselves in the Nara living room, Shikaku went to his workshop, got out his pestle and mortar, his scales and the various substances he needed, and began to prepare the pills. He found making medicines strangely therapeutic; left alone with his thoughts, he could lose himself in his work. The recipes and methods were as second nature to him; although he still used scales to weigh out the ingredients, he did so merely out of habit, and could have easily measured out the amounts of herbs or powdered antler or sugar (to take away some of the bitter taste of the pills) without them. As he ground away at a portion of antler, he saw his face reflected in the worktop. Not bad, he thought, looking down at the network of scars inscribed on his rough skin. Although he and his son were both dark and skinny, with their hair scraped back into the same spiky ponytails, Shikamaru lacked his father's beard and scars. The kid shaved all the time, either that or he seemed incapable of growing facial hair. Shikaku unconsciously ran his finger along the scar tissue on his jawbone. Not bad, he thought. Not bad at all. Shikaku was not a vain man, but, in his opinion, no-one could say the Nara men were ugly. They didn't have those freaky white eyes like the Hyuugas or marks on their faces like the Akimichis, and unlike the Aburames, they didn't conceal themselves behind sunglasses and big coats.

Laying down his pestle and slowly pouring water into the mortar, he wondered if he should spike the pills with something more intoxicating, and decided against it. Being on a team with Chouza and Inoichi for most of his life had given him a sense of loyalty towards them that was second nature, and he couldn't bring himself to harm Chouza in any way. We're adults, he thought. Too old for childish tricks.


Chouza Akimichi was sweeping the front porch of the Akimichi compound when Shikaku arrived with the soldier pills.

“Evening, Shikaku,” he said, smiling warmly at his team mate. “I see Chouji told you about the pills, did he?”

“Yeah,” said Shikaku, “he did. I thought I'd bring them myself, let him spend some more quality time with our Shikamaru.” He cringed inwardly at the somewhat corny turn of phrase, but Chouza wasn't bothered. “Thanks for the pills, mate,” he said, accepting the bag from Shikaku, and added, “You want to come in, have a drink or something? You look knackered.”

Shikaku had to physically restrain himself from grinning like an idiot, and followed the Akimichi clan head into the clan's compound. Without Chouji there, the place seemed far too big for one person.

Chouza led Shikaku into the open-plan living room-cum-kitchen, the centre of activity for the clan, and leaned against the worktop. Shikaku was struck by how tidy the place was; it had been a while since he'd last been to the Akimichi compound, and Chouza had always struck him as the messy type. The floor and surfaces were swept clean, plates and other utensils stacked neatly on the draining board.

As if he had read Shikaku's thoughts, Chouza said, “Yeah, I gave the place a clean earlier. I'm on leave at the moment, so I thought I might as well. We're housetrained in our clan, not like you lazy fuckers.” He smacked his forehead with his palm. “Gods, I'm sorry. Shouldn't have said that. I forgot you've become a bit more housetrained yourself since Yosh left. Anyway. You want a drink? I've got tea, water, milk, Coke, or alternatively something a bit stronger.”

“What's the 'something a bit stronger'?” Shikaku asked. “And,” he added with a grin, “I am a lazy fucker, no offence taken.”

Chouza disappeared behind the worktop, and made sounds that suggested he was rummaging in a cupboard somewhere down below. When he surfaced, he was holding a bottle of sake.

“Nice one,” Shikaku said, giving his team mate a double thumbs-up and watching eagerly as Chouza fetched two glasses from one of the overhead cupboards and poured generous amounts of sake into each of them. He made himself comfortable at the Akimichis' kotatsu and waited for Chouza to join him.


Half an hour later, Shikaku was starting to feel the effects of the sake; its magical property of loosening the tongues of men had come into effect.

“I can see where Chouji gets his loyalty from,” he said. “Thanks for everything, Chouza-kun. You're a...” He stopped when he noticed Chouza was looking at him oddly.

“Shikaku,” he said slowly, “you didn't just come here to bring me the soldier pills, did you?”

Shikaku was dumbstruck. Was he really being so obvious? He hadn't been flirting with Chouza, or anything so ridiculously teenage. They'd been talking about recent missions, whether Tsunade was a better Hokage than old Sarutobi, their kids. Shikaku hadn't even mentioned Megumi, guessing rightly that Chouza was still coping with her death and subsequently was not ready to talk about it. He glanced at his interlaced fingers, long and slender like the branches of trees.

Chouza's eyes narrowed to slits, making him look even more oni-like in the dim light. “Are you taking me for a fool, Shikaku? Come on, credit me with a little intelligence. I'm a jounin too, in case you forgot, and I qualified the same year as you. My son might not be on an equal footing with your son, but I am on an equal footing with you, and I know you want something from me.” He knotted his fingers together and leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Shikaku. “Out with it.”

“Speaking of our sons,” Shikaku began, then stopped. Chouza looked at him with annoyance. “What, Shikaku? You've never been at a loss for words before. You were pretty damned lucid earlier.”

“Come closer, and I'll tell you,” Shikaku found himself saying. Inside, he winced. He sounded like a bloody woman! Chouza shifted his vast weight round the corner of the kotatsu and along the floor, until he was sitting at a right angle to Shikaku.

Without hesitating or even thinking, Shikaku leaned over, cupped Chouza's face in his hands, and kissed him gently on the lips.

Stop it, Shikaku! His mind screamed. The guy's twice your size!

But Shikaku was in for a further surprise when, instead of recoiling or brushing away, Chouza reciprocated, and his tongue slipped into Shikaku's mouth. He was surprisingly gentle, Shikaku noted with some surprise. Evidently he'd perfected his technique; the Akimichis had a bit of a reputation for being great lovers, just as the Nara men had a reputation for being pussywhipped.

The two men broke apart, staring at each other in confusion. Then Chouza downed his glass in one, fell back onto the floor and dragged Shikaku with him, and they were kissing again, more roughly this time, their tongues practically battling each other like Orochimaru's snake summons, and Chouza had his hands in the waistband of Shikaku's trousers, and Shikaku realised with a shock that both of them were hard. He could feel Chouza's erection against his, and realised that what they said about the Akimichi men was true after all. Then he found himself being pushed onto his back, Chouza on top of him, and the breath was rapidly squeezed out of his lungs. The pair of them were all but eating each other's faces. Maybe Chouza saw him as a piece of meat, some kind of local delicacy to be sampled and devoured; those Akimichis certainly had one-track minds when it came to anything remotely edible.

It was a bizarre scenario, Shikaku thought, these two formerly married men - married to women, mind you, not married to another man like the Fifth Kazekage's brother apparently was – rolling around on the floor like a pair of horny teenagers. Like their sons, in fact. He nuzzled Chouza's thick neck, and the bigger man made a noise that suggested he was happy with this course of action.

Shikaku was determined not to be turned into Chouza's bitch. That much was clear. He'd been scolded and henpecked and nagged by Yoshino for gods know how long, and now, here was his chance to show that he was not going to be pushed around. Ever since he was a child, Shikaku had watched the deer in the Nara clan's park at play, and no stag had ever been pushed around by a doe. The stags, those magnificent, dignified beasts with their long legs and their antlers that crowned their heads like Nature's answer to the forehead protector, were the animals for which he was named. Funny, Shikaku thought, because Chouza looks nothing like a butterfly. Whoever named him was having a laugh! He should have been named 'Kuma' instead.

“I...hah...think we...hah...should go some...hah...where else, maybe?” gasped Shikaku.

“Follow me,” Chouza ordered, leading Shikaku out into the hallway of the Akimichi compound. A wicked urge shot into Shikaku's head as he noticed he was standing in Chouza's shadow.

He was going to have some fun with his team mate.

Kage Mane no Jutsu!

The shadows of the two men fused together, and Chouza found himself unable to move independently. “Shikaku!” he barked. “What the fuck are you playing at?”

Shikaku did not reply. His mind was going like clockwork as he wondered what to do next. From having been to Chouza's house before, he remembered that the bedroom was upstairs; however, due to Chouza's girth, it was going to be difficult for them to climb the stairs side by side, and Shikaku wasn't keen on the idea of walking backwards, with Chouza facing him. For some reason, he found himself on a tangent, remembering that it was his birthday in a few weeks' time, that he was going to be 42, that he was born under the sign of the Crab...and another thought shot into his head like a kunai between the eyes; crabs walk sideways. Yes. Up the stairs, sideways. That way, I can ensure his shadow and mine are still joined. It'll be a tight squeeze, but it's viable!

Chouza found himself involuntarily walking sideways up the stairs, Shikaku controlling him like a puppet. Turning to the right, Shikaku sidled along the landing, trying not to look into Chouza's furious eyes. He tried to recall where the rooms in the Akimichi compound were...not the one on the left, that was Chouji's bedroom and he didn't want to go in there for fear of what he might find...and there was the guest room...what appeared to be some kind of storage space, perhaps a closet...ah, there it was, the bedroom Chouza and Megumi had once shared. Realising it was unrealistic to expect that the two men could get through the door sideways, Shikaku turned so that his back was against the door, and walked backwards into the room. If looks could kill, he thought, he would be six feet under in Konoha's cemetery. However, he was still in control. He had plenty of chakra stored up.

Still facing Chouza, Shikaku removed his flack jacket and shirt; Chouza had no choice but to do the same. The two men took off their sandals, then their trousers, then their boxers, and finally, they stood stark bollock naked, facing each other. Shikaku released the jutsu, and Chouza found himself able to move again.

“Shikaku, you little bastard!” he hissed. “I swear, I'll...I'll...”

“I know you want me, Chouza-kun,” said Shikaku coyly. “You would have pulled away otherwise. Admit it. Chouji isn't the only Akimichi who wants Nara cock.”

Chouza was dumbstruck, too angry to think of a response. Unfazed, Shikaku looked him in the eye and stroked his beard with an air of contemplation. Then he made the hand seals of the Rat and the Bird, and said softly, “Kage Nui no Jutsu.

In the dim light, shadows played on the wall. With the first seal, Shikaku's shadow stretched again; with the second, it split into thin tendrils, like strands of hair, that began to twine themselves around Chouza's huge body. He struggled, but it was no use; the tendrils were moving too fast, and within minutes, Chouza was wrapped in shadows, his arms pinned to his sides. The shadows bound him so tightly that even moving his shoulders proved difficult. A further tendril coiled around Chouza's ankles, but instead of binding them together, it pushed them apart. For reasons that Shikaku was going to make clear in a few minutes' time, he wanted to ensure that Chouza's legs were not bound together.

“Shikaku, let me go!”

“I think not,” replied the Nara clan head. He walked behind Chouza and stood with his erection pressing into the bigger man's back. For good measure, he pulled the shadows tighter, forced Chouza's hands behind his back, and shadow-bound them. He knew that Chouza wasn't angry because Shikaku was so blatantly coming on to him; he was angry because Shikaku was the one in control. Chouza had always been the loudest one in the Ino-Shika-Chou trio, and he and Shikaku had often argued over which one of them should have been leader (Inoichi, meanwhile, couldn't have cared less). Now, he was powerless, unable to use his hands or legs. As a final precaution, Shikaku undid Chouza's headband and tied it over his mouth, gagging him.

Excellent. Now he was ready.

Keeping this huge beast of a man restrained was costing Shikaku great amounts of chakra, and he was unsure how long the jutsu would last. Once Chouza was free, only the gods knew what he might do to Shikaku. The trick, the deer herder reckoned, was to tire Chouza out.

“I swear, Chouza Akimichi,” he whispered in Chouza's ear, “I am going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk the next day.”

With that, he licked his index finger and slid it into Chouza's anus, gently sliding it back and forth. Chouza made a small noise that sounded like a grunt. Shikaku began to wonder if he should have started fucking his team mate head on, in order to see Chouza's face, but dismissed the thought; after all, when a stag mounted a doe, all he could see was the back of her slender neck. Chouza was no doe, but the principle was the same.

Parting Chouza's buttocks, Shikaku took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and entered him. Chouza arched his back, rearing up like a horse, and swore loudly and incomprehensibly through the gag, and Shikaku became even more aroused. Maintaining the jutsu was an effort, but he didn't care, and he began to move his hips back and forth, back and forth, until he was sliding to and fro inside Chouza, then he began to quicken the pace, digging his fingers into Chouza's broad shoulders. The Akimichi clan head moaned again. If Shikaku was not mistaken, Chouza was actually enjoying the feeling of another male fucking him; for all Shikaku knew, Chouza was probably in pain, but they were ninjas, they'd fought in wars, they'd experienced things a thousand times more painful, oh gods this was amazing. He'd missed sex so much.

I am a stag.

Shikaku wrapped his arms around Chouza's bound body and nuzzled his neck, murmuring all sorts of obscenities into his ear, pumping him harder and harder, while the big ninja made muffled noises of pleasure through the gag, his arse responding to Shikaku's hips, until the two men had found their own rhythm, and although Chouza was no uke, he damn well was no seme either, not at the moment.

I am a stag.

Shikaku was fairly slamming Chouza now, he was all the way in, his balls slapping against Chouza's arse, Chouza panting and groaning through the cloth in his mouth, the shadows still tight...then Shikaku noticed they were beginning to loosen. The jutsu was starting to wear off.

I am a stag. I am mounting my mate.

Shikaku squeezed his eyes tight shut and fucked Chouza for all he was worth. They were no longer in the Akimichi compound, they were in the Nara deer park. Surrounded by deer, under the trees, under the moon, where no-one outside of the clan came, although Shikaku was sure his son had probably brought Chouji there. And who could blame him? Shikaku felt the wind on his back, heard the rustle of leaves in the trees as though he and Chouza were actually there, and he was not a sexually frustrated fortysomething divorcee, he was a horny little teenager again, he was rutting alongside the stags and Chouza moaned in time with the does and gods knew what Shikamaru was up to but he couldn't be happier, more aroused than this and oh gods oh fuck oh fuck he was going to come, and with a sudden impulse he grabbed Chouza's huge cock in his hands and squeezed, and Chouza went, “Hhhihahuuuu!” and was filled with semen as Shikaku came inside him, and flopped down onto the bed, the world spinning around him as the shadows loosened their hold.

He opened his eyes to find Chouza's face looming over him. He had removed the gag and tied the band round his head again.

“Hello, Shikaku.”

Shikaku was too exhausted to speak. He merely lay there, gazing at Chouza, wondering if the Akimichi clan head was going to rip him to pieces...and then he noticed the blissed-out smile on his team mate's face.

“Thank you,” Chouza breathed. “That was fun.”

Shikaku attempted to pick himself up off the bed, but found he could not. “ clothes...” he gasped out.


Shikaku stared, and did a double take when he saw the hungry look in Chouza's eyes. The last time he'd seen that look was when the three of them went for Korean barbecue with Ino, Chouji and Shikamaru when Ino and Chouji had become chuunin, and the meat had been brought to the table. Chouza was looking at him as though he would like to scoop up Shikaku in his chopsticks, shove him into his mouth and swallow him whole.

“You came into my house, Shikaku,” Chouza said after a while with some deliberation. “You came into my house, you drank my sake, you tricked me, you dragged me upstairs, you tied me up and gagged me and fucked me. Now, I'm not complaining about the sex, it was brilliant and I admit it's a bit of a turn-on, taking it up the shitter” - Shikaku winced at Chouza's choice of words - “but you owe me one, because I'm not satisfied yet, and you know what? I really need a fuck now. You took what you wanted from me, but it's my turn now. Now lie down and don't move, or I'll sit on your head.”

Shikaku knew his team mate was serious. Besides, he was too tired to move, so he lay limply on Chouza's bed and watched while the big man fished around in the bedside cabinet, his eyes widening as Chouza produced lube, a tiny bottle of something, and condoms. He was even more surprised when, after taking a condom from the pack and carefully tearing open the wrapper and sliding it out, Chouza put the condom's opening to his mouth, took a deep breath, and blew until the condom was roughly two foot long.

Shikaku felt uneasy. He knew Chouza was blowing up the condom for a reason, and didn't want to know why, given that the Akimichi clan were the clan whose speciality was altering the shapes of their bodies. Surely he wasn't going, Shikaku thought grimly, let's not think about that.

Meanwhile, the Akimichi clan head let the air out of the condom and put it on his still erect penis.

“Roll over, Shikaku-kun.”

Obediently and quietly, Shikaku rolled over onto his back. He heard and felt Chouza climbing onto him, straddling him with Shikaku's legs between his knees. He shoved the tiny bottle under Shikaku's nose and ordered him to inhale.

Shikaku inhaled deeply, and a strong chemical odour filled his nose, stinging slightly, and wormed its way down his throat. He began to feel light-headed and dizzy, as though he were even more drunk, his temples beginning to throb. At the same time, he felt his sphincter relax, and at that moment, without so much as teasing or fingering Shikaku's anus, Chouza entered him, smoothly and gently. It didn't hurt as much as Shikaku thought it would, and he lay woozily on his front, resting his head on his arms, as Chouza began to fuck him. Pulled into Chouza's rhythm, he had no choice but to go along with it. It felt like swimming with the tide.

Then Chouza made the seals of the Ram and the Bird, and when he spoke, Shikaku realised with a shock that he wasn't the only person in Konoha who used his signature jutsu for sexual purposes.

Bubun Baika no Jutsu, Youbutsu.

Now I know why he blew up the condom, Shikaku thought, and almost went into shock when he felt Chouza's already immense penis expanding inside him, stretching him taut, threatening to tear him apart. Shikaku clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. It was either that or cry out in pain, and he was damned if he was going to make Chouza aware that he was hurting him. He felt like he was being ripped in two from the inside, as though he were turn in upon himself, as Chouza grabbed his ponytail and tugged at it. “Relax,” Chouza hissed, and shoved the bottle under Shikaku's nose again, and the wooziness fell over Shikaku like a wave. The pain lessened, and Chouza spread Shikaku's legs even further, his immense belly touching Shikaku's back, and kissed the Nara clan head's neck.

I'm the doe now, Shikaku thought wryly to himself. And I'm not going to walk for the rest of the week. Strangely, though, he liked Chouza's manhandling of his body; the Akimichi clan head was rough, but certainly not sadistic, and his huge fleshy body felt soft and warm against Shikaku's wiry frame. Coupled with that immense penis inside him, it was unlike any sensation the deer herder had ever felt before. Forcing himself to relax, he arched his back, easing Chouza further inside him, and moaned loudly as Chouza silently came inside him.

Shikaku wondered what would happen next. Thirty-odd years of ninja service had made it second nature to him to expect the unexpected, and Chouza had already proved that night that he was a man of many surprises. He eased himself out of Shikaku and rolled him over onto his back.

“How was that for you, Shikaku-chan?” Chouza asked, kneeling down on the floorboards and propping himself up on the bed.

“You cheeky bastard,” Shikaku laughed. “It's true what they say about the Akimichis, I guess...”

“And what, may I ask, would that be?” Chouza said sternly. “And it had better not be anything to do with our girth.”

“Well, it is,” Shikaku retorted. “Not the girth of your belly, though. That schlong of yours makes cucumbers look like mere twigs in comparison.” He rolled his eyes. “Gods, look at us, we're like a couple of're a dark horse, Chouza, I'll give you that. I should have known you were going to get me back. You always had to come out on top, ever since we were in the Academy. Now maybe...”

Chouza held up his hand. Shikaku stopped, and looked at him expectantly.

“I'm not done with you.”

“Are you shitting me?” moaned Shikaku. “No pun intended, but...I'm not going to be able to walk for a week, and if you do that jutsu on me again, I'll be stuck on the shitter for a week.”

“You need to work on your pillow talk, and besides, I wasn't talking about bumming you again, you fool,” Chouza said rudely, and with that he eased himself upwards until his face was level with Shikaku's groin, and – undaunted by the fact that it had been inside him a few hours ago - he took Shikaku's entire penis in his mouth, followed by his balls, and began to suck, his nose digging into Shikaku's pelvis.

Chouza's method of giving head was unlike that of any woman Shikaku had ever slept with. He wrapped his hair around the base of Shikaku's cock, the tip of it right down his throat, and sucked so hard and intensely that Shikaku feared he was going to be castrated. Chouza wasn't just giving him head; he was sucking him dry, like a hungry baby at its mother's teat, barely coming up for air as he devoured Shikaku's cock. To him, it appeared, Shikaku's cock was just another piece of meat waiting to be eaten, a trophy from the power game that the two men were playing.

Shikaku placed his hands on Chouza's head, a redundant gesture, and realised that he was going to come, and he did, filling Chouza's mouth with fluid, and Chouza swallowed it all instantly, almost taking Shikaku's cock with him; and still the Akimichi clan head was sucking away at the Nara clan head's penis, and Shikaku feared Chouza would literally drain him. He was reminded of a mission he'd been on once, where they fought a band of ninja who used chakra-draining jutsu. Chouza's teeth scraped against Shikaku's cock. Shikaku moaned, “Enough!” and pushed Chouza's head away, and the Akimichi clan head slid his mouth down Shikaku's cock and let it drop on the deer herder's belly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said quietly, “I win.”

Shikaku knew that Chouza was right. The proud stag had become the quarry, and he had been captured and tamed by a larger, far more powerful animal.


Meanwhile, back at the Nara compound, Shikamaru lay bound and gagged on Chouji's bed as Chouji licked barbecue sauce off his slender body and pumped Shikamaru's penis simultaneously, his hand rapidly moving up and down the shaft. Shikamaru writhed with pleasure, his head thrown back, groaning and panting into the forehead protector that covered his mouth. Chouji began to lick Shikamaru's nipple, and within minutes, the younger chuunin had come all over Chouji's hand, his belly smeared with his own semen.

Chouji wiped his hand on his duvet, removed his forehead protector from Shikamaru's mouth and kissed him. Shikamaru let out a long deep sigh.

“Chouji,” he breathed, “you are the best.”

Chouji blushed. “Oh, shut up, Shika-kun,” he said teasingly. A sudden thought struck him. “Hey, is it me or has your dad not come back yet? He went to our place ages ago and I'm positive he's not come back. I've not heard any footsteps or anything.”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Whatever. They're probably getting drunk, knowing my dad. Besides, it means more privacy for us. Anyway, could you untie me? These ropes are starting to hurt my wrists and I'm getting cramp.”

Rolling his eyes, Chouji unbound Shikamaru's hands and feet, and the two teenagers lay side by side on Chouji's bed, neither of them wanting to spoil the moment by breaking the silence. Still, Shikamaru thought, it was odd his dad hadn't come back. He wondered if Shikaku and Chouza had gone out somewhere with Inoichi. Or maybe...Shikamaru didn't want to think about it. The thought of his dad and Chouji's dad together was just weird.


If Shikaku had been recovering any chakra while Chouza had been fucking him, it had all gone now; he was beyond spent, and lay exhausted on the double bed, his dark hair now out of its signature spiky ponytail. He wondered if the Akimichi clan also had chakra-draining jutsu; it certainly felt like it. He'd been in fights that were less taxing on his body than this.

Chouza studied him for a while and then said, “We'd better get cleaned up.”

He led the wordless Shikaku down the corridor into the Akimichis' bathroom and ran a bath for the two of them. They climbed into the tub, which was the size of a small swimming pool, and let the water and steam wash the sweat and cum off their exhausted bodies. Shikaku pushed his damp hair behind his ears, and sank gratefully into the hot water.

There was a long silence between the two men, both of them contemplating what had happened earlier. Shikaku wished he could put his finger on what had made him act so brazenly; it wasn't just the alcohol, or the memories of the dreams he had had, but some kind of impulse that, it seemed, was second nature to every ninja. After all, he and the other ninja of Konoha were living a life where no two days were the same; where they faced the reality that there was always the chance that one day, they would walk out their front door with their partners and children waving them goodbye; and not return; where they grew accustomed from a young age to living on their wits, never allowing themselves to daydream or lose concentration for fear of an enemy taking advantage of their momentary weakness. But back when Shikaku had been planning to see Chouza and confront him, he had never imagined for a second it would have lead to this. He had been expecting Chouza to laugh or get angry, not to return the kiss, and certainly not to have sex with him, although he had taken advantage with his usage of the Kage Nui no Jutsu.

Without realising, he voiced his thoughts out loud, and was startled when Chouza replied, “I'm not entirely sure myself, to be honest. I mean, all my life I've been out with women. I don't have a problem with my kid being gay, never have, but I knew for sure that I wasn't like that myself. Me and Megumi were happily married. I never would have cheated on her in a million years. But then she died...and – Gods, I can't believe I'm saying this, ugh – a part of me went with her, you know? Chouji's been great, so have the rest of the clan, but I still miss her a lot. Maybe I just wanted a quick fuck. I don't know, Shikaku, I'm still trying to work it out myself.” He laughed. “The fact we've both had a lot to drink doesn't help, but then you were always a bigger lightweight than me.”

Shikaku decided to come clean.

“The thing is, Chouza...after Yoshino left me, I started having these dreams, these dreams about men. And I was having sex with them. I was watching them fuck. And were one of them. Inoichi was never there, but you were.” He gave a short laugh. “Gods, we sound like a pair of girls, having a heart to heart. It's the drink.”

Chouza didn't laugh. He merely blinked at Shikaku, reminding him somewhat of a startled doe.

“I suppose you're going to kill me for this,” Shikaku said.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, having fucking sexy dreams about your team mates is a bit weird, no? I mean, if you'd said to me, 'Hey, Shikaku, I had this dream where you fucked me up the arse, and I liked it, and I've had loads like it', I'd probably find it somewhat disturbing.”

Chouza sighed heavily. “Shikaku, I'm forty-one years old. I'm not getting any younger, and neither is Chouji. Or Shikamaru, for that matter. I nearly lost my son three years ago. I sat in the hospital and waited for days for Tsunade-sama to bring me the news. After what I went through that time, one of my team mates admitting he wants to fuck me is the least of my worries. Life is too short.”

Shikaku laid a hand on Chouza's thigh and said gently, “I know. I was there in the hospital. My son was talking about giving up being a shinobi, and I was furious with him because your son showed more guts, more strength than mine did. As I said to Shikamaru, his giving up would not have made the slightest bit of difference to anything, except that another shinobi would have led the mission and Chouji might not have come back in one piece. I don't know how much he took it, but when he heard Chouji was alive, he vowed that the next mission he carried out would go perfectly. And it did.”

“Maybe that's why they're in love,” Chouza smiled. “They've always been close, our kids. To be honest, Ino's a nice girl, but she's not Chouji's type. And he told me she was always on at him to lose weight. At least Shikamaru appreciates my son for what he is.”

“He's a good kid, our Shikamaru,” Shikaku said warmly. “And so's Chouji. You must be proud of him.”

“I am.”

As Chouza said these words, Shikaku looked at him closely, and it was as though a translucent veil had been lifted from his eyes; there was a kind of warmth, an as yet unseen gentleness in Chouza's face, and Shikaku knew now why his son had fallen in love with Chouji. Like father, like son. This man was not ashamed of who he was; he knew he was fat and unattractive, but he didn't care. He was comfortable in his own skin, sexually confident, a predator. He was no butterfly. He was a bear. Shikaku suddenly felt strangely deferential towards Chouza, and knew that he was right; the Akimichi clan head had won the game.

Wordlessly, the two men climbed out of the tub, dried themselves off, and Shikaku, leaning on Chouza, allowed himself to be led back to the bedroom. It was way past midnight, and he was too tired to go home. Shikamaru would understand, he was sure.

He nestled against the soft bulk of Chouza's body and waited for sleep to come. He tried not to think about the next morning. But then, who knew what would happen next? Maybe nothing would come of it. Maybe one of them would tell Inoichi, passing the whole thing off as yet another of Shikaku's drunken mishaps. Maybe he and Chouza would never speak of it again. Yet something had changed between them that night, and not just because of the sex. Chouza had become a different man to the one Shikaku knew; it was as though he'd stepped from shade into light.

But one thing Shikaku knew for sure; he didn't regret a moment of it.