“If I profane with my unworthiest hand,” he said, smiling, running his knuckles down the side of her face, “this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

They hadn’t practiced this next part. She’d wrinkled her nose in disgust and he’d simply shrugged his shoulders, saying that they’d “improvise.” Right.

Even though Ino knew it was coming, she still felt a little stunned when he leaned down and kissed her. Something hot and electric shot through her at the touch; it made her rock back on her heels with uncharacteristic unsteadiness and suddenly, inexplicably, she trespassed on the cardinal sin of theater acting: she forgot about the audience, if only for that split second. Then, belatedly, she turned her instability into a cushioning motion, before rising up to meet him, pressing her lips more firmly against his.

Finally, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers as she sucked in a breath, gathering herself. Though he was smiling tenderly, as Romeo would, she could see his characteristic mischievousness sparkling in his blue eyes.

Again, the desire to punch him in the face was almost too great, but she resisted and said, for all the world sounding like the beguiled young maiden, “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” He was going to drive her crazy with that impish look.

She smiled instead. “Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” It was easier now, that he was a little farther away, so that she couldn’t feel the heat radiating from his body. She could do this. No problem.

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.” Her lips unexpectedly felt where he brushed his thumb over them, but she discarded it as that phenomenon of being a little too in-character. She wouldn’t be the first actress to do that.

“Then have my lips the sin that they have took.” As practiced, she shifted forward, closing the distance between them again, and his hand came around to rest precariously, heavily, on the small of her back.

“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.”

This time Ino braced herself. His lips descended on hers, and she realized that she’d braced herself in vain. Warmth surged through her again, heady and insistent along with his kiss, and she wanted to scream with how unfair this really all was. Instead, a groan worked in her throat; as if sensing it, Naruto parted his lips, slightly, his tongue flicking out and silencing her. On him, she tasted coffee and something sweet, like candy, and wondered if he was going to let go of her anytime soon. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to.

His grip on her fingers tightened, briefly, and that was the only warning she had before he pulled away again. Dimly, she remembered her line.

“You kiss by the book.” Her breaths were coming in too fast, and he still hadn’t let her go. She couldn’t help but notice how his fingers felt in hers again.

The scattered students broke into polite applause, and with that as the scene’s cue to end, Naruto immediately broke out his smirk. Ino scowled at him.

“Very good, you two! I could feel the chemistry. Very passionate,” their professor trilled, but Ino was already huffing off the stage, feeling unusually frustrated, even for the times she had to work with Naruto. She grasped for reasons, that it was just because they hadn’t practiced kissing scenes before, that she hadn’t gotten laid in a while, that he was actually beyond handsome when you tilted your head a little to the side and squinted. Or whatever.

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