Chapter 19
Naruto has a complicated relationship with jealousy.
He understands it in terms of envy; he remembers watching his friends get picked up by their parents and older siblings after school while he remained by himself, on the outskirts, in the shadows, utterly alone. He may have been jealous of their lives, their families, but he understood them.
He does not understand the kind of jealousy that curls low and hot in his gut whenever he sees someone standing too close to Hinata, or being too physical, or watching her in any way that isn’t simply friendly. He’s never had cause to feel this way; Hinata doesn’t encourage anything untoward and she moves carefully out of reach when interested parties overstep their bounds.
Even still, jealousy burns away at him on the inside and he’s left wondering why his hands curl into fists and the monster in his mind doesn’t have Kurama’s voice but his own, and why it suddenly sounds so persuasive. How easy it would be to deter those who touch Hinata with a sneer of sharpened canines and pinprick eyes, chakra radiating.
He doesn’t do this, because he respects Hinata.
Instead, he responds to jealousy in the same way he responds to anything he doesn’t understand; he leaps headlong into the fray.
Hinata barely makes it through the door before Naruto has her pinned against the wall, hands curling possessively around her hips, lips pressing into the skin of her throat. He licks at her pulse, feels it tripping under the skin, and sucks. Hinata’s hands wind around his neck, fingers carding through his hair. Her lips press to his ear and she says, “more.”
The fire in Naruto’s belly becomes something far more enjoyable, and the static in his mind dissolves into oblivion.