"How the hell do you take a piss in that uniform?"

Kurenai blinked as the water ran over her hands, turning eyes into the mirror to see only a wolfish grin and a ridiculous amount of mesh and cleavage.

"Umm..." Another blink and she was shaking her hands into the sink and reaching for a towel. "Excuse me?"

"Piss." The wild hair was tilting precariously close and the other woman leaned a slim hip against the sink eyeing the wrappings covering Kurenai closely. The woman tilted her chin up after a moment, and Kurenai almost backed up a step, the bright raucous grin hitting her like a blow. She felt her own fingers fluttering over her uniform, tugging at the inside of her elbow nervously and she mentally kicked herself. "Piss... you know, take a leak?" The woman clarified, slowing her speech to accommodate a two year old.

"Very carefully." Kurenai said slowly, brushing her hair back over her shoulder absently. She left the restroom after a moment, followed only by loud laughter.

This was how she met Anko.

It was strange; she'd never really paid much attention to her peers, content with the soft smoky flavor of Asuma's skin. She loved him, the way his face felt rough and coarse, left burns when she kissed him that ached for hours afterward. His hands were rough, thick fingered, sure as they stroked slowly down her stomach followed by that rasping feel of bearded chin, lips heavy with kisses across her collarbone. Asuma felt like her world some days, waking up in the tight bear like embrace, feeling his chest pushing against her back in the mornings. His gruff voice rasping and male against her hair as she shifted slowly from dreaming to waking.

Kurenai had always been quiet. Timid, she replaced scathingly on days she couldn't seem to get a word in around the other Jounin. She'd never been one of those girls who could just integrate flawlessly into the boy's club. She didn't talk dirty. She didn't out drink them. She didn't play rough. Her skill was finesse. Being underestimated, she supplied quietly when she was being brutally honest with herself in front of a mirror.

"Coming tonight?" Asuma would growl, smirking around his cigarette as he leaned casually against her. She loved that he did that. It made her feel safe and sheltered while so strong to hold his weight, to support him. She believed that the beauty of their relationship was the give and take. That they each had their roles: she quiet and demurely feminine with that silken sharp blade of training hidden in the waves of her hair and the slender tips of her fingers, he with his dominating unmistakable masculinity and calm demeanor. She liked the way he would wink at her over the sharp knives he practiced with, and reveled in the almost tangible eroticism of the viciousness he displayed in battle. He turned dark chocolate eyes to her, reaching to brush back a stray hair.

"I don't think so." She'd reply. "Maybe later." And with a coy look she'd wave him out the door.

And that would be the end of it. He'd leave to be the gregarious one, the one who laughed the loudest, told the dirtiest jokes. She'd go back to their shared apartment and straighten, taking a delirious sort of pride in the careful blend of his things with hers. She'd stretch onto the plush couch and thread fingers into her hair, massaging gently at her scalp. He'd come home later, scent thick with smoke and alcohol and bawdy laughter and take her to bed, take her with a delicate sort of roughness that left her breathless. She loved how careful he was with her; like he was afraid she would shatter.

Tonight though, as she stretched and eyed her wrappings dubiously, unsure if she wanted to take the time to change or if she wanted to let Asuma unfurl her later like a present, she was startled by a knock at the door. Confusion bright in her eyes, she pulled her hair back into a sloppy bun, heavy against the nape of her neck and approached the door.

"I'm bored. Entertain me." Anko grinned, filling the doorway with her slight frame and vibrating intensity.

"Umm." Kurenai began.

"We've played this game already." Anko declared, grabbing her hand by the wrist and pulling, steps quick and clipped.

"Uh-"

"I know you have more words in your vocabulary than uh." Anko chattered brightly, pausing at the stairs to blink at her captive's state of dress. "Where are your shoes?"

Kurenai gaped helplessly for a moment before darting wide eyes back to her door. Her safety. "Ummm."

Anko sighed heavily and visibly wilted. She tightened her fingers on Kurenai's wrist and marched them back to the door. "Shoes. Shoes equal fun times ahead." And Kurenai was shooed back into her apartment with Anko close on her heels.

Twenty minutes later, changed and properly shod, Kurenai began what was to become a regular ritual between them. She'd decline Asuma's offer to come out that night only to be found and herded into a night out anyway by Anko. Kurenai never really wondered why, was always playing a mental sort of catch up to the darting speech of the other woman. She'd asked once.

"Why do you keep doing this?" A breathless question over a small glass of sake as Anko leaned heavily over her drink and peered back at her.

Anko shrugged, reaching out to push back the heavy lock of hair that had fallen to hide Kurenai's face. "Who else is gonna?"

There'd been a long pause and Kurenai had flushed, feeling hot and exposed under the soft look Anko had flickered over her face before watching the same self depreciating grin slide back into place and devour the moment like it had never happened. Kurenai blinked and turned back to her drink, surprised by the sudden revelation that Anko's hands felt like hers.

She lay in bed later that night, her fingers curious of her own skin while Asuma rolled onto his side, caressing across her belly with a rough palm. She concentrated on the feel of him, how warm he felt against her shoulder and the wiry iron strength of his thighs. She closed her eyes, flushing and naked as he stroked, peppering her skin with those heavy burning kisses. She'd been almost afraid to help, to slip her palms up to cup and tease at her own nipples because the aching sudden hot tingling flashes of Anko's hands made her gasp and writhe. His voice growling obscene poetry against her neck and she'd come shocking sudden with the question of the texture of Anko's skin white bright and vivid in her mind. Asuma husked endearments, pushing slowly into her, riding in that slow sensual rhythm their bodies knew so well, and Kurenai guilty with release, wondered if Anko would be afraid to break her. If Anko knew that women like Kurenai weren't really fragile.

*****

Kurenai stopped being surprised by Anko's visits. She'd wait patiently by the door, listening for that clamor of booted feet and the haphazard breathless whirlwind that battered into the hallway. She'd open the door before Anko would knock, smirk, and step after her. Months passed and Kurenai found she was looking forward to the days Anko would storm her apartment like it was a life or death mission and extract her bodily. She would sip her sake and smile over the low table as Anko gestured wildly. She didn't notice when her eyes would stop scooting around the edges of Anko's contours and started drifting languidly over the full lips. She didn't know when she started avidly sneaking glances at the firm breasts that were barely contained by the tight mesh. Flashes of dark rose nipple when the jacket slid as Anko leaned back, stretching like a cat in the gloomy booth.

The fantasies started slowly, mostly idly wondering as she rode Asuma, feeling his heavy touch against her breasts, the way his fingers gripped and softened carefully at her hips as she leaned forward. She'd wonder if Anko would laugh, nose crinkling in delight as her hair fell forward. She wondered if the other woman would touch the way she touched herself. She would lick her lips and imagine the feel of Anko's breath soft against her mouth just before she kissed her.

Mostly though, it was the smell of her. Anko smelled sweet and light like honey under the darker smell of leather and blood. Kurenai had discovered this oddly feminine secret as she'd half carried the other woman home to her tiny apartment that was littered with dirty clothes and parchments. Anko wasn't neat. She didn't believe in cleaning unless it was necessary. She didn't fold her uniforms; she didn't hang her pants or jackets, but left them strewn haphazardly over the sparse furniture as she shed them. Kurenai had watched in shameful fascination as a drunken Anko had slowly stripped out of her clothes, unabashed around another woman and proceeded to give a rousing slurred lecture on the proper use of kunai and just where Kakashi could stick his. Kurenai had nodded and blushed, ducking her chin quickly to keep herself from staring outright at the soft pale skin of Anko's breasts. She'd shifted, a sweet heat throbbing suddenly between her thighs and laughed roughly, forcing it past the catching thrum of her desire.

It was several breaths and a stern cough from Anko before Kurenai realized she'd missed the question and turned timid eyes to where the other woman was standing, hands on hips, waiting for a reply.

"Ummm..."

Anko rolled her eyes and flopped onto the couch where Kurenai was shifting uncomfortably. "I thought we'd gotten past this point in our relationship."

Kurenai turned and made a studious effort of straightening her small sliver of upholstery.

"Oi." Anko said suddenly, voice sounding less brassy and more muted like a slow moan. Kurenai's breath shook out of her and she turned her eyes slowly to where Anko was fiddling with her cuticles and visibly half naked.

Kurenai didn't stop her hand. She'd wondered for months and now her opportunity was there, practically in her lap. She touched the cow licked strands, catching the ends against her fingertips and rubbing slowly. Anko blinked and tilted her head back, arching slightly as she gazed curiously to where Kurenai was studiously touching just the ends of her hair.

"I don't bite yanno." Anko said slowly, spine flopping back against the couch with a soft heave of breast that made Kurenai shift harder, thighs rubbing together for a delicious almost taboo friction.

"I know." She heard herself answer, and blinked. She could feel the tension in her body now, had been so nervous, so unaware of just how acutely Anko's presence made her skin twitch. She felt like she was able to pick out each individual hair as it brushed against her forearm. That if she closed her eyes, the heat between them alone would be enough. Anko was like slipping into a hot bath that left her flush and her skin tingling.

Anko closed her eyes, wiggling infinitesimally closer, just enough that her head was resting against Kurenai's thigh. "Good."

"I'm not fragile." Kurenai blurted into the sudden quiet. It felt like a secret, something that needed to be shared.

Anko opened her eyes and caught Kurenai with a soft amused look. "I know."

"Good." Kurenai breathed, pushing her fingers into the warm heat of Anko's hair and smiling quietly. Later, Anko asleep against her thigh, she'd dared to reach and touch the soft bow of Anko's bottom lip. It wasn't rough, or chapped, just soft and smooth to her touch and Kurenai had hurriedly stood, covering her friend and wandered home. That night she couldn't let Asuma kiss her.

*****

"Do you think Anko is pretty?" Kurenai had asked quietly, panting into the soothing afterglow against Asuma's broad chest days later. Her fingers worked in a slow semi-circle through his chest hair, stroking against his sun dark skin.

"Is this a trick question?" He had rumbled, voice muffled around a cigarette he'd reached for in a liquid ripple of muscle that had her smiling against his skin.

"I don't think so." Kurenai stated, picking her hair from her mouth and curling closer to the heat of him.

Asuma ashed quietly, hand smoothing along her shoulder and down her waist to her hip, petting her in a possessive way that made her shiver happily somewhere just under her stomach. "I guess." He hedged, pushing a bristly kiss against her forehead. "Course, she doesn't hold a candle to you."

Kurenai secretly disagreed with him. Anko was beautiful. She didn't have to pause in her estimation. She tapped her thoughts wordlessly against his breastbone with pale fingers. She felt him breathe, the rough whistling catch of a longtime smoker and smiled. He was hers.

Asuma's arm tightened and he lifted his head slightly. "What brought this on?"

Kurenai smiled, and shook her head, "No reason."

Asuma had lifted one skeptical eyebrow and said nothing, letting his breath curl in smoky spirals to the ceiling as she fell asleep so soft against him.

*****

Kurenai had a plan: a tenuous plan, but a plan.

She checked over her apartment after Asuma left, pushing small trinkets back into their spaces, straightening the parchments on their kitchen table. She was rinsing Asuma's coffee mug when she heard Anko at the stairs. She smiled into the running water and turned her head, blowing the errant curls out of her eyes with a hurried puff of breath. The knock came a heartbeat later.

"It's open!" She called, voice feeling overly loud and she turned back to the sink, unwilling to notice her own overcompensation.

Anko plowed in the door, chattering almost immediately on what had become their favorite subject lately- her team of kids. Anko had been crowing with happiness when Kurenai had been nominated to train the genin three man team. She'd talked half the night, rousing stories about her youth and then grown somber and quiet. Kurenai had felt her heart pound faster in her chest as Anko spoke of Orochimaru. It felt like something prized and heavy, this confidence.

Kurenai didn't stiffen as Anko flopped against her, propping her pointed chin against her shoulder and peering through her hair into the sink. "Whatcha doin'?" Anko hissed, as if the thought of housework terrified her.

"Rinsing." Kurenai replied evenly, ducking out from under Anko's chin to settle the mug into the drainer.

Anko's nose wrinkled in distaste and her mouth curled up. "Eww."

"We're staying in tonight." Kurenai announced, before Anko could launch into a one sided diatribe against the evils of housework and the subversive nature of "womanly" duties.

Anko blinked. "We are?"

"We are."

Anko darted a strange look around the apartment before taking a short sucking breath and shrugging. The normal impish grin slipped over her face and she scrubbed at her hair. "Your stuff gets trashed, not my fault."

Later, as Anko lay with her head in Kurenai's lap, eyes closed with a contented purr, Kurenai threaded fingers into her hair and against her scalp. Anko's eyes slitted open, curving into a slight grin.

"D'ya love him?"

Kurenai didn't register the question for a moment before turning quizzical eyes down to where Anko was sprawled. "Umm."

"Not a trick question."

Kurenai licked her lips quickly and ran fingers through her hair, taking time to look at all the pictures around the room. They were slightly fuzzed from the sake they'd been sipping most of the evening and even now she could smell that soft smoke scent that was purely Asuma. "Yes."

Anko nodded like she'd already known the answer and sat up, wobbling slightly.

Kurenai's lap felt cold and she rubbed her palms over the red marks on her skin where Anko's hair had been pressing against her thighs.

"Leaving?" She asked quietly, not quite able to look up.

"Yea," Anko drawled, swiping at the flat spot at the back of her hair.

"You don't have to, you could crash here."

"Think I'm gonna get mugged?" Anko laughed, but it was cut off abruptly when she swayed and threw a hand out for balance, blinking owlishly at her traitorous feet.

Kurenai shook her head.

"Good, cuz I'm not. I'mma ninja!" Anko threw a threatening glance at the floor and turned in a slow overly careful pirouette to the door. Kurenai watched as Anko trailed cautious fingers along the wall for direction and could feel a sinking desperation rising in her chest, matched by the sudden staccato of her heart.

She glanced at the pictures, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. Asuma smiled out at her, safe, male, rough and callused. She looked back to where Anko's slim soft fingers were pressing against the wall. She could almost hear the sound of her skin sliding over the paint. She could feel the awkward pressure of Asuma's cigarettes settling against her like a nicotine stain. She could feel all the rough whiskered kisses she would ever have all of her life. She felt like she was about to lose a race.

That same desperate burst of speed that pushed a runner over a finish line is what pushed her to her feet. A blink and she was in front of Anko.

"Ummm..."

"I'm tired of this game." Anko slurred, looking up at her with dark eyes that narrowed with conviction.

"Then let's stop playing." Kurenai said quickly, barely pushing the words past her lips as she followed the soft consonants forward. She paused, a sudden striking electric fear holding her still, millimeters from Anko's face. She could feel the hot damp breaths, sense the shaking promise of hands against skin.

And there it was, all in that flash of stilled time. Anko pressed into the soft mattress, hair wild and staticy against her pillow. The way she'd arch and moan with each delicate questing kiss against her skin. Skin so soft and fragile Kurenai understood Asuma's gentleness. She'd count each rib, placing her hands into the soft furrows between each. Feel the swell and heat of her breasts, the way the nipples would harden accompanied by a chorus of soft aching moans. She'd taste her, the electric copper penny taste wet and fluid against her tongue as she pressed; holding writhing hips steady with hard fingers. They'd fuck like friends. They'd fuck like they knew instinctively what to do. They'd kiss and touch and stroke and lead each other to wild honeysweet bliss. She'd watch Anko shake and shiver and turn dark liquid eyes, full of sex and promises, back on her. She'd have all of her.

"Kurenai." Anko breathed.

Kurenai was shaking suddenly with the thick erotic weight of this moment; she couldn't answer as Anko pulled away slightly, watching her with soft sad eyes and brushed back the thick wavy mass of hair.

"Kurenai, make someone else your unknowing fool." Anko whispered. "I won't be the one to break this."

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