Notes: I don't own Naruto, etc. No copy-right infringements are intended.
A glance into the post-sex lives of Naruto and Gaara.
"Nggh..." The blonde coughed again, exhaling a mixture of smoke and carbon monoxide. "Seriously," he started, "smoke rings aren't all that sexy..."
Gaara only blew more smoke into his face, staring at a crack in the ceiling. "I don't recall asking you about them." he commented, the end of the cigarette getting dangerously close to his finger tips.
Sex was a sticky (pun intended) subject for the redhead. It always agitated him, and he didn't know why. Maybe it was because Naruto always knew how to moan his name the right way, and make his stomach drop and his facade fall apart. Maybe.
It was disgusting.
"I'm going to shower, then." Naruto said, rather put out by the other's "post-sex" habits.
It was disgusting.
Personally, Naruto wasn't keen on drawing his death any closer than it already was. (And that was close enough to make him sweat at night. Cold and frozen like ice, his skin would-)
"Fine."
Gaara's comment broke the silence; the train of thought that had formed and presented itself, dissuading the boy-man from standing, from going to take his shower.
Gaara gave him a look, as if to tell him to go, and so he did. Sniffing and knitting his face in a way that makes it look like a kitten's snarl. It makes Gaara quirk an eyebrowless expression, but he drops it soon enough in favor of another cigarette break.
"You better not be smoking when I get back." Naruto warns, picking up discarded cloths from the floor. Shirt, blazer, jeans, underwear. Man, they'd made a mess.
He tossed them into a corner, among other shirts, other blazers, and other boxers.