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dayseternal-blog · 1 year

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Summary: Crushes come and go. Secret attraction can be left to fade with time. He thought they'd never meet again after high school, and that was that.

It's not always simply that.

Written for NaruHina Month 2022 Day 3: Right Person, Wrong Time.

Rated E for eventual smut.

“Closer” - Chapter 1: You can look

With a satisfying click of the lock, he pushes open the door to his godfather’s studio. He’s always known it as a rather small place, consisting of a front desk that he never sees anyone sitting at, a closet stuffed full of props and rolled-up backdrops, and a clear area already set up with lighting.

One day, he might inherit his godfather’s business, Sage Photography. His godfather has a loyal customer base after so many years. As he flicks on the lights, family portraits, high schoolers’ graduation photos, baby pictures, and even engagement photos color the walls. Dazzling smiles on close friends and family shine down on him.

Sage Photography has had a hand in capturing important moments in so many lives. Naruto is proud to learn everything he can from his godfather in capturing the beauty of humans in portraits. This year, he volunteered to be his college class’s historian and contributes images monthly to the college magazine. His work is already being viewed across the country by alumni.

Naruto’s gained a lot of confidence in his skills, and today is the first time his godfather is relying on him to complete a project by himself for Sage.

To make his role model proud of him, Naruto made sure to arrive even earlier than asked. 5:30, and the sun hasn’t yet risen. The client should arrive around 6:00.

A crazy early appointment. Naruto had no idea the old man works so hard.

While refamiliarizing himself with the studio, he recalls the phone call of a few nights ago.

“I’m sorry to drop this on you, kid, but I got double-booked for an opportunity that I can’t pass up. I’ll be out-of-town on Saturday, and I was able to reschedule my other appointments except for one.”

“You need me to help out?” he asked, already excited.

His godfather sighed. “Think of this as…an introduction to my world. You’re old enough to know.”

Now he was really intrigued.

“Listen, this client’s going to be a rising model, she’s got a lot of promise.”

“You photograph models????” He couldn’t help interrupting, even though he knows his godfather hates interruptions.

“And don’t you mess this business connection up for me! I make a lot of money from this.”

Several questions rose to Naruto’s mind, like Why did he never mention such a cool job? but he bit his tongue as his elder continued talking.

“Now I’m warning you. It’s not going to be a normal job. I’ve already told her and her manager that I’m leaving this to you, so they’ll guide you through the process as long as you don’t scare off the model. She can be a meek thing, but that’s a part of her skyrocketing popularity.”

Naruto waited a second to make sure that he was done talking. “So…where do I need to meet her?”

“At my studio, come before 6 in the morning. You’ll do the shoot upstairs.”

“Upstairs?”

“Yeah, there are staged rooms more appropriate for the sessions. Since this is still only her third magazine appearance, the theme they decided on for her is still fairly innocent.”

He never knew his godfather’s studio had an upstairs. Judging from the outside of the building, it’s obvious that there are two floors above, but he had simply assumed that those floors belonged to other businesses.

He faces a nondescript door that he had always assumed was a stuffed closet. But turning the knob and opening it, stairs climb up into a previously unknown world.

He still has time before they arrive. So he turns on the light over the stairs.

A glass chandelier casts light over white tile. He follows the stairs, curving up and up, opening onto a modern, airy hallway.

With wide eyes, he can’t wrap his mind around the stark difference from the cramped office-y atmosphere of the first floor to this.

It looks like a super nice, big house. A modernized, clean home with a kitchen, bedrooms, and a bathroom. It’s almost too nice, like the fashionable sets you see in magazines, and most people don’t live like this.

Impressed, he heads up to the third floor.

It’s completely open concept, but each section of the large room is staged totally different. The closest section is staged like a traditional house with tatami. Another like a high school classroom. Yet another with an extravagantly dark-themed bedroom. Props of all sorts of beddings and patterns are stowed into plastic containers piled on the side.

Here, a nervous itch fuzzes over his head.

He never asked what kind of model “Sunny” is.

“Sunny is her stage name. It’s a smart name, in my opinion. That kind of foreign name is exotic; it might keep her from getting stuck in one role.”

…Exotic? Adrenaline starts kicking in. Didn’t his godfather say something about him being “old enough to know”... And his last words…

“Have fun, kid, but not too much fun. You can look as much as you want, but no touching.”

He scoffed in offense. He’d never do something inappropriate like that.

It didn’t occur to him at the time that the model might be…

Images of naughty poses fill his mind.

The bell from the entrance jingles those out of his mind. He hustles down the stairs and sees two women–one older, one younger.

With silky dark hair and fair, smooth skin, almond-shaped pearly eyes, the girl’s features make sense to him in less than a second. “Hinata?!”

Her brows raise, equal shock gripping her face. “Na, Naruto-kun? What are you doing here?”

“I’m working for my godfather! Are you Sunny?”

She stares at him in continued surprise, and waves of high school nostalgia sweep over him. A sweet, pretty girl who rarely spoke to him, who was camera-shy whenever he took pictures of school events, yet who seems to always take a second to click “like” on his social media photography posts…

In an immature poll the boys made in tenth grade for the hottest girl in the class, she tied for first place with Ino…

“Yes, Hinata goes by Sunny. I’m Sarutobi Kurenai, her manager.”

He blinks.

Hinata’s suddenly looking down at her feet.

His reminiscing cut short, he remembers that he’s supposed to be representing his godfather. He shakes Kurenai’s hand, introducing himself formally, and the stress that had overcome him a minute ago releases completely as his mind returns to work. There’s no way Hinata would be asking for half-naked, bikini or lingerie photographs. She’s always so proper. He hasn’t seen her since high school graduation a year ago, but he’s pretty certain that she got good grades in all of the subjects, too.

He smiles, hoping to dispel Hinata’s unease. “This is such a nice surprise! My godfather told me I’d be working with a model today, but I had no idea it would be you, Hinata! Since when did you get into modeling?”

She’s still hiding her face from him as he ushers them to the makeup table. “W-well, I guess,” she begins, and her rarely heard, soft voice shoots a happy heat to his cheeks. “I only started this year.”

He pushes through the vestiges of his youthful crush and exclaims, “Wow, really?” He watches her take a seat.

She nods, and her manager starts opening a makeup bag.

“So now you’re modeling? I thought you got into that really smart school…?” he asks, hoping to hear more.

She fidgets, and if anything, her body language grows more closed-off. “Um, my father…he didn’t approve of my choice in studies,...I wanted to go into social work…so…”

His smile fades. So… the implications of her unfinished sentence are heavy, while not making much sense to him. Yet he nods, even though she can’t see it with her eyes closing as her manager is putting something all over her skin. “That’s so impressive, Hinata. Wow, man, you’ve always been impressive, though, so it shouldn’t be so surprising.”

“Hm?” Her voice comes out like a surprised squeak, and he grins.

“Yeah, you were so active in high school in all sorts of activities, and even now! I feel like most people our age find a job as…sales workers or in restaurants, but look at you! My godfather said that you’re already a popular model!”

“Oh, um, mmm…” Her voice trails out.

Kurenai finishes by brushing something on her eyelids. “Yes, Hinata is certainly brave. She was actually scouted by my colleague, and had it been me, I would’ve run away.” She laughs, and Hinata smiles for the first time since they stepped into the studio.

“Kakashi-san was a little scary-looking, but he was very polite and professional.”

“Well, that’s very good to know.” Kurenai hands her a lipstick, letting Hinata apply it by herself.

As Kurenai brushes her hair, from the reflection, she looks the same as in high school, but slightly different…

Even prettier.

Noticing his staring, her gaze immediately drops down. “Kurenai-san…” she practically whispers, but he can still hear her.

“Yes?”

“We couldn’t have rescheduled this to another day?”

The abrupt pain from her words lances into his chest so harshly, he stops breathing.

“I’m sorry, Hinata, but I’m booked with the other models’ appointments, so we had to do it today.”

Swallowing down his disappointment, he gathers the shards of his shattered self-confidence back together. “I might not be as experienced as my godfather, but I still have professional experience in portrait photography.” He pauses, hoping for some kind of acknowledgement from her. “Hinata, I’m here to do my best for you. I think it’s awesome that I can support an old classmate in her work.”

“Oh, I, I didn’t- I mean-” Hinata’s finally looking at him again. “It’s just…” Her brows pinch, her lips stressing into a frown. “It’s not you, Naruto-kun, I, I know that you’re a very talented photographer, but, I…”

He shifts his weight, trying to make sense of what the problem is. If it’s not an issue with his skill, then it’s…?

She takes a deep breath. “It’s just that I don’t know if I-” Her hands press into the top of her chest for emphasis. “-can do a good job…”

Kurenai puts a hand on her shoulder. “I understand how you feel, Hinata, but this is work, your photos are due next week, and Jiraiya-san needs time to get them ready for publication. You can’t choose who you work with in this industry.”

She nods, melancholy.

“Don’t think of yourself as ‘Hinata,’” her manager continues. “In front of the camera, you’re Sunny, no one else.”

She nods again, this time with seemingly greater confidence. “I’ll go get changed.” Her voice, whisper soft, rings of someone being forced to do this, and Naruto watches her pick up her tote bag and disappear up the stairs.

He knows Hinata is shy, even his godfather caught onto that fact, so all the more, he burns with curiosity.

“Is she going to be okay?” he asks aloud.

“She will be,” Kurenai sighs. “She certainly has the body to be famous, so it’s a matter of whether she can express herself more and more in front of the camera.”

Her strange wording has him turning to look at the manager.

“I gotta give you credit, Uzumaki-san, since you’re apparently her old classmate. You didn’t treat her strangely and you were extremely supportive.”

That anxiety from upstairs slithers into his gut. “Wellll, yeah, why would I treat her strangely?” He has a bad feeling.

The older woman frowns at him. “Jiraiya-san…told you, right?”

“Told me..what?”

“What magazine Sunny models for.”

He searches his memory. He might’ve mentioned the magazine name. “It was…a bunch of letters?”

“II-GR. Icha Icha Gravure Red Magazine,” she immediately supplies.

Gravure.

Meaning…meaning!!

Maybe not naked, but depending on the magazine, close enough!

Tenth grade flashes through his mind once more. That time in the boys’ locker room he was embarrassingly stubborn about Hinata being number 1 hottest girl in the class. After all, he nearly broke his nose against the pool wall from trying to sneak peeks at her too much during swimming. Besides her boobs being bigger, she was just way nicer than Ino, so in terms of overall attractiveness, he couldn’t understand why other people disagreed…

“If you can’t do this properly for Sunny, then we’ll find another photographer.”

He snaps out of his mental meltdown and drops his head into a deep bow. “No, I’m sorry! I have to do this for my godfather!”

“...She should be done changing by now. For both yours and her sake, call her Sunny, not Hinata. That’s what Jiraiya-san does.” Kurenai ignores him and starts up the stairs.

Giving him a second to sort himself out.

No fucking wonder Hinata didn’t want him to take her pictures. He can’t at all imagine making flirty, sexy faces while an ex-classmate takes pictures of him! Or even if he didn’t have to look sexy! Just having photos of him taken specifically for the opposite gender’s gaze! He’d feel so awkward and embarrassed!

So exposed!

Just like-

“Guess what, Hinata!” Kiba announced so loudly, anyone could hear.

She looked up from her desk and blinked silently at them.

“Naruto totally has it bad for you!”

One more blink, and her brows raised high on her forehead, one of the most shocked expressions he had ever seen on her.

And he couldn’t handle it, he nearly shoved Kiba into the wall. “What, NO, I don’t! Shut up! Stop making up shit!”

She quickly turned away, while Kiba laughed his ass off.

And he couldn’t hardly look at her for weeks after that.

He slaps his face, hoping to stun himself into focus.

The sun is rising, casting perfect light through the windows.

Hinata’s makeup was extremely light, too, almost as though she didn’t have any makeup on at all.

The photos will turn out natural, as long as he can get her to relax.

He lets out a quiet groan.

He’s pretty certain that he’s the one who won’t be able to relax.

The white slipdress is formfitting. The semi-sheer bodice molds to the shape of her nude-bandaged breasts, displaying the winning reason Kakashi decided to give her his business card. Tiny ribboned bows adorn the thin straps that hold the bodice up. Lace patterns wrap around her waist before cascading back into semi-sheer mesh that reaches mid-thigh.

Beneath all of that is a matching, white mesh thong that at some point during the session, will have to be slightly exposed for the camera.

For Naruto.

For her unrequited crush.

Blood rushes to her face, just imagining him seeing her like this.

His attitude, completely not embarrassed at the idea of her as an II model, was a very small comfort. She already knew she didn’t have any real effect on him. She doesn’t know whether to be appreciative or sulky about it.

But her feelings don’t matter. She needs to be successful at this job. Then she can truly be independent from her father. Then she can do what she wants.

This whole job has been her own way of secret rebellion.

“Sunny”—the embodiment of fantasy, freedom, and innocence. Her past, her future, her intelligence, her accomplishments, her worries, her fears, literally no one cares.

Sunny simply exists to be a warm dream for whoever sees her.

A knock interrupts her silent pep talk. “Sunny, we’re ready to shoot.” Kurenai’s voice further grounds her.

“Okay.”

Mustering the courage she’s gained over the last few months, she opens the door and steps out.

Kurenai is standing beside Naruto, pointing out the room they’ll be using, likely going over the theme: An intimate look at Sunny who is just waking up.

He glances at her.

His gaze averts back to Kurenai just as quickly.

But it’s like he set fire to her skin within that one second, prickling self-awareness rushing hot and cold all over. She’s never felt so naked. She’s never been this bare in front of a boy her own age since high school swimming, and for it to be Naruto…

She turns and heads to the bedroom before she can overthink this.

If she just focuses on the camera and herself, and not him, if she treats this like any other photoshoot, then she should be fine. Her magazine feature can be successful, and by summer, she can have her own photobook published, and by autumn, a straight-to-DVD short film. From there, who knows? Really successful gravure models have even transitioned to acting in blockbuster movies or even children’s television shows. Maybe this can really be the path to financial freedom…

Upon reaching the white bed, she turns back around.

He’s standing at the doorway now. His brows are furrowed, his jaw set, hands gripping the camera. She’s never seen him look so serious.

She bows, realizing that he’s completely in work mode. “I’m in your care.”

“Same here.” He gives a slight bow.

She waits for his first instructions.

But his gaze lowers. Then lingers. Then lifts back up, his jaw twitching, an intensity in his eyes that she doesn’t know if she’s imagining.

Heat flushes from her face to an unwelcome ache between her thighs, and just, no. It’s not the first time she’s been looked at, but…

Jiraiya is old and silly. Vocally encouraging and loud in his compliments. It gave her flimsy self-confidence a boost, helped her to feel like a sexy bombshell “out to kill all of Japan’s virgins with her boobs.” His words. Laughter came easily, lending that young, cute, innocent type of feeling to her previous, successful photoshoots.

Today is supposed to be more of that same youthful, happy sex appeal…

“Sunny.” Kurenai’s voice brings her attention back up.

She didn’t even realize she was looking at the floor.

“Uzumaki-san is probably not used to directing this type of photoshoot. How about you start with getting in the bed?”

She nods and climbs in, Naruto’s quiet apology reminding her that this is work, this is a job, this will be over the sooner they get started.

“Hinata-”

“Please call her Sunny.”

“I mean, Sunny.” He looks worried. Nervous. Where did the couldn’t-care-less-Naruto go? He seemed perfectly fine downstairs. “Are you really okay with me taking your pictures?”

Even after a year apart, she still finds his thoughtfulness terribly charming. Her nerves feel even mushier, but there’s no way out of this. The sooner he starts, the sooner she can change back into regular clothing. “Yes, please go ahead.”

He picks up the camera higher, and with his face covered, she can breathe a little easier, focus a little better.

First, perhaps sitting up like she just awoke? Maybe hands running through her hair, gathering everything to the side will look good? She combs her hair with her fingers, gaze cast a little low on the opposite wall. She continues to play with her hair, waiting.

It’s so quiet, she glances over at Naruto.

His camera is up, but he’s not taking pictures.

“Um, I’m starting?” she hints awkwardly. “You can, um, take pictures…”

“Oh. Mm.”

With his muttered affirmation, she starts over. She fluffs her hair from behind her neck-

The first shuttering of the camera goes off, and she lets the familiar sound reassure her.

After a few more shots of running her hands through her hair, she adjusts to face the doorway. She stretches, one fisted hand reaching for the ceiling, allowing her chest to push out, a touch of heat coming to her cheeks, but she tries to ignore it.

By now, her regular photographer would probably be saying something ridiculously, over-the-top perverted like: “Yes! Yes! Push the mommy milkers out for us to see!!” Just remembering that astonishing line from last time makes her smile a little.

“Shit.”

Alarmed, her attention darts to Naruto.

“Sorry, I think I gotta change the lens.” He dashes out the door.

Kurenai sighs. “You’re doing absolutely fine, Sunny. I know it’s quieter than you’re used to, but just so you know, most photographers are not as noisy as Jiraiya-san. Uzumaki-san could learn to give you some feedback, but as long as he takes enough pictures, Jiraiya-san can choose and edit the best ones.”

They wait for a few more moments, and Naruto comes rushing back. “Sorry, let’s continue.”

She tries different sitting positions, letting him take more shots, but as she runs out of ideas, she knows she can’t avoid it.

Lying down.

Having him hover over her.

Avoiding looking at the camera lens until she can’t anymore.

And in meeting the camera, for a second she sees his face.

She’s never seen him look so serious. Eyes dark, jaw set. So focused…

Her core pulls.

It’s unintentional, everything that follows, the shifting of her hips against the mattress, her breasts rising with the taut thread up through her belly.

The shutter of the camera responding, answering the discomfort between her thighs.

He’s watching her through the screen on his camera, she knows he’s noticing everything about her…

How if she exposes her neck more with the angle of her head…

The click of the button, the shutter of the camera. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to.

She’s hardly breathing.

She lets her fingers tease the mesh skirt, and the sound of the shot follows the motion. She’s really going to do it for him. She’s really angling her knees together to the side, pulling the nightdress up, exposing her thigh, then the thin, white elastic stretching over her hip.

He can see her.

She can see him. In the silence of his camera, in his moment of surprise, his mouth fell open, his cheeks pulled up, his eyes narrowed.

Jiraiya gave the most ungodly guttural sound, then hummed in appreciation. “One-of-a-kind figure of a WOMAN. Let the men see what they can’t touch!!” He cackled evilly as though he himself were punishing mankind for its sins.

Is it true? Can she really affect men in such a way?

He still hasn’t taken a picture, and so she whispers, “Naruto-kun…? It’s okay…”

His glance away from the screen and onto her without the barrier of his camera is too sudden, so serious, and she can’t tell if he’s upset or embarrassed or…or something else…but she fidgets under the weight of his gaze.

She nods.

His jaw sets once again.

And he takes pictures. Several pictures. Coming faster than before as she turns, allowing the tops of her squeezing thighs to be visible, the mesh triangle cloth barely covering her, straining against the opposing pull of the elastics at her hips.

Her thumbs flirt with the elastics.

Her thighs rub together.

She inhales sharply, sensing a gathering wetness there that’s never happened before on the job, her core pulling, clenching, the elastic rubbing at her folds.

But he’s still taking pictures, getting her at different angles, the shuttering of his camera encouraging her to shift for him, to slide her hand up her arm, then over, across her shoulder, across her breast, she lets her fingers tease at the lace of the bodice.

“Hinata…” Murmured low.

She freezes.

He freezes.

She bolts upright, attention zipping to her manager, who’s thankfully just leaning against the doorframe, staring at her phone. Sighing a silent breath of relief, she manages to articulate loud enough for him to hear, “That’s probably enough pictures.”

“...yeah.” His voice is just as quiet as hers, but she spares him no glance, too afraid to face that awkwardness.

She gets off the bed, bows with a few words of appreciation, and hurries to the bathroom.

He told himself it was probably wrong. If Hinata somehow found out, she’d hate him.

But there’s no way she’d ever find out.

And in a way, he’s…supporting her work.

And there’s nothing necessarily wrong with that.

With buying an II-GR magazine.

On the way home, he stops at the convenience store.

Back at the dorm, his roommate Sora is dead-asleep. He himself would still be asleep, too, if not for the job. It’s still before 8:00, and the two of them usually wake closer to 10 on a Saturday morning like today. Or sometimes 11.

So he has privacy.

Hiding himself behind his desk, he quietly pulls the magazine out of the plastic bag.

A fashionable girl in a strappy white bikini pouts at him on the cover. He’s seen porn online before, but somehow, the suggestiveness so publicly displayed here feels even more shameful, like he’s really entering a world of sexual gratification.

The magazine doesn’t have very many words besides a special feature on an idol he assumes must be popular right now. Every page is of pictures of girls.

Girls pouting or smiling at him.

Playing with feather boas, stuffed animals, inflatable balls, or their hair.

A part of him can’t help critiquing the camerawork. Some of the shots look awkward, especially ones where the camera is obviously trying to get a shot below the skirt, a staged situation but pretending not to be. It’s so blatantly perverted that he feels uncomfortable about it, but he supposes that some men must be into upskirt shots.

He flips past it, finally finding her.

She’s wrapped in a thick, white towel in a bathroom. Two pages of one large photo and various smaller ones of her smiling and laughing and looking adorable and like that towel could so easily slip off and reveal more of her creamy skin.

His consciousness doesn’t let him linger on the perfect line of cleavage, instead he averts his eyes to read her stats.

Sunny. 18 years old. J-Cup. 163 cm. 46 kg.

He doesn’t know much about bra sizes, but a J-cup sounds huge if it all starts from A.

His mind flits back to that morning’s photography session, the moment she stretched for his camera, her breasts straining at the bodice of her lingerie… His self-restraint so severely tested, the blood rushed to his dick so fast when she smiled, he had to leave the room to adjust his hard-on so that it wasn’t obviously tenting his pants.

He doesn’t think she noticed. He hopes she didn’t notice.

And in comparison to his own height and weight, she’s tiny, light, small. The way she curled up her legs in the bed, showing him how her fair skin stretched smoothly over her hips toward her flat stomach…

Gut tightening at the memory, he focuses back on the way she’s sitting on the bath stool, holding the shower head close to her breasts, one hand gripping the handle, the other hand suggestively touching the top.

She knows, right? What men do when they look at her pictures.

Unbuttoning and unzipping, he shifts his pants and boxers down his thighs.

He glances at her cheerful expression, her light eyes bright, looking right at him.

He brushes his erection, waiting for guilt, shame to make him turn away.

She’s smiling, teasing him with shapely, bare legs, happy that he’s looking at her. She plays with the shower head, showing him what she would do to him if he were there with her.

If I'd been there…

If he had been the one taking her pictures!

His focus shifts to the most risqué one. Her body’s turned away, she’s looking at the camera over her shoulder while her towel falls low. Her shoulder blade, the dip of her spine, the slightest peek of ass cheek!

He gulps down a groan as his grip tightens and tugs at his cock. The heavy pressure in his gut soothed then lit into crackling heat that flares up his body.

Exhaling almost painfully, he gives himself one last chance to stop.

This is Hinata! Hyuuga Hinata. The really, exceptionally nice girl with an angel’s face…who’s apparently got shit going down at home.

He studies the main photograph that takes up nearly both pages, the curve of her smile and light eyes, the soft slope of her fair cheek, down to her bared, slender neck.

So, so pretty.

He used to stare at photos that he managed to take of her with her friends when they were in high school. He had such a crush on her, and now it’s back full-force.

But his feelings aren’t special. Nearly half the guys in his grade had a crush on her in high school.

Because…

He squeezes his dick, slowly releasing waves of pleasure, as he takes in the fair swells of perfect skin pushing against her towel.

What wouldn't he give to adore those tits, breathe kisses into her skin and shove himself deep into her body. The way she showed him her thighs and tiny panty had his piece straining against the button of his pants, and he’s been suffering ever since.

He closes his eyes, willing himself to give into temptation.

She was a girlfriend fantasy for him and so many others. She turned down daring classmates of his one after another, and so he knew it was fruitless to “shoot his shot,” and it was getting to the point where all the guys knew that she wasn’t one to date around.

And what’s worse, she’d purposely avoid guys who asked her out. She turned really cold to them, even classmates she used to bless with habitual greetings, but he’s pretty sure she actually felt guilty about rejecting them. She didn't mind looking like a bitch if it softened the blow.

But he’d rather just look at her with appreciation than be a bother to her.

He’d rather she acknowledge his presence as a classmate or acquaintance than never look at him again.

He can’t believe she’s a nearly-nude gravure model now.

What circumstances at home pushed her to such an occupation?

He presses his forehead against the magazine in frustration. He’s so pent-up from this morning’s work. He can’t find blame in himself for trying to give outlet to his attraction, but another part of him doesn’t want this to be it.

Will he ever see her again?

Under different circumstances, one that didn’t involve lingerie and a camera, could he have tried to strike up a closer friendship with her? Had they met by chance somewhere else, could he have asked for her number or LINE, at least to just stay in touch?

His own cheek on the magazine, he slides his finger down her smooth, paper cheek. His other hand's still gripping his hard-on.

Hinata, sorry.

#thank you for reading!#nhmonth2022 #naruhina fanfiction #bunny reminded me that this is slightly inspired from My Dress-Up Darling!#I saw it all over my dashboard but never watched it #i feel like i did though

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