He had no idea how he wound up like this.

Part of him questioned whether or not he was truly present in his own body, if the essence that made him who he was had been tossed out and given a bird's-eye view of the empty vessel that remained. It wasn't his mouth making those sounds - lewd and wanton, terms he never associated with himself because he simply wasn't inclined toward physical manifestations of desire. It wasn't his hand that reached desperately behind him; those weren't his fingers clutching at whatever part of Naruto he could find from such a precarious angle. It wasn't his back pressed against Naruto's warm chest, so warm he could feel it through the fabric of his jacket. Those weren't his bare legs spread wide over Naruto's thighs, feet curled around the backs of Naruto's shins.

He did not recognize the creature he had become.

I want. A tiny ember sparked, caught fire, blazed and raged and grew bigger, hotter. I want, I want, I want. This is me, and I want.

His eyes slid halfway shut when Naruto grazed his teeth along his neck and kissed his way up again, stopping just below Gaara's ear, where he licked and nipped and sucked and Gaara's breath rushed out in a thin, needy whimper, already overstimulated by all the attention Naruto was paying to his cock, by each steady, powerful thrust that felt like a hundred little deaths punched straight through the core of him. He wasn't a child, nor was he as sheltered as some may have believed, but he was an innocent to this kind of pleasure, wholly unprepared for the way it would ravage every part of his body (his body, his).

"Naruto," he gasped, fingers twisted up in Naruto's hair, gripping tightly, and Naruto smiled, dragged his tongue around the shell of Gaara's ear, brought his lips to it.

"I love the way you sound right now," he whispered, between moans - he was an exuberant person by nature, so it stood to reason he'd be, well, noisy. He slid his arm across Gaara's still-clothed chest, held him in place. "You're so good, Gaara, look at you - "

A lump rose in Gaara's throat; he was a hair's breadth from sobbing, which he couldn't explain, couldn't even try. "Don't, he grated out, his voice hoarse, foreign. "Don't say that - " He clawed at Naruto's head, frantic, covered Naruto's arm with his, laced his fingers through Naruto's and squeezed, all while a bandaged hand worked on him, while the thrusts continued, unrelenting, taking him apart from the inside out.

He felt vulnerable, raw, exposed.

He had no idea how he wound up like this.

Of his own volition, he would not have sought any sort of intimate entanglements. He had a boundless capacity to love - he wouldn't have donned the Kazekage mantle otherwise, and sometimes he wondered if he loved too fiercely - but there were some forms of love he couldn't wrap his head around, despite his research on the topic, and he was more than content to let others explore those avenues instead. He did, after all, have a village to watch over.

Except -

It was always different with Naruto. They'd forged a connection when he pulled Gaara, bloody and broken, out of his rage, his selfishness, his pain, his loneliness. They understood each other. They knew each other. The entire course of Gaara's life changed because of him, and he wasn't so certain Naruto realized just how much that meant, the lengths Gaara would be willing to go for him. (He went to war.) Gaara wasn't so certain he realized, himself.

Uzumaki Naruto was -

(Everything.)

- His first friend. His dearest friend.

"Move with me," Naruto urged him, and kissed his cheek, a startlingly tender gesture that sent his thoughts scattering.

Though it cost him dearly, he forced his beleaguered body to comply, rocked his hips in time with Naruto's thrusts, and the slight adjustment alone produced such intense results that they both howled. There was no point in being self-conscious, he supposed, not when he was so wracked with pleasure he was almost delirious and unable to breathe in a way that wasn't inherently sexual - the entire concept overwhelmed him, the act itself overwhelmed him. He couldn't do this with anybody else; Naruto was the only person he trusted enough. And his heart sundered, knit together, sundered again because there was no telling what the aftermath would look like, no telling how high the cost of his reckless abandon would soar. Because of how easily, how readily he'd tossed aside rational thought and drowned himself when Naruto looked at him slantwise, the pair of them hurtling toward each other like meteors; the inevitable crash left a crater so vast it stretched for miles.

Maybe he'd been drowning a long time.

"It's too much," he said, in a voice not his own, "Naruto, it's too much." He arched his back, his neck, head pressed to Naruto's shoulder, as if he could somehow escape the onslaught, shove it away from him. Except he still clung, still fought to keep Naruto close.

"Does it feel good? Tell me it feels good, Gaara, tell me - "

"Yes," he practically snarled, incapable of lying to this man who destroyed him with one hand and built him up with the other. He gritted his teeth. "End it. End it, you fucking bastard, just let me - I can't - " He didn't know what he was saying anymore, he was always so careful with his words, rarely driven to profanity; maybe this, he thought, was what happened when you were deconstructed down to your base self.

Naruto chuckled low in his throat, brought his mouth back to Gaara's ear. "Come for me," he murmured, and Gaara was helpless, he'd do anything, anything -

And then the angle changed, and then Naruto stroked him just the right way, and he cried out, flew over the edge, hard and sudden and violent, the violence of it made him shudder, tremble. But it was not unwelcome. Violence, he could parse, even if he chose not to seek it actively like he once did.

"Shit - " Naruto slammed in deep when he came, and Gaara closed his eyes, held on to him.

For a while, the only sounds in the room were their in-drawn breaths, their shaky exhales.

"There's no one else like you," Naruto said, quietly, so quietly it was almost as if he hadn't spoken at all. "There's no one - "

"Stop." His heart sundered again. He had a feeling it wouldn't knit together, not now. "Please...don't."

Naruto's kiss was the worst little death of all.

the idea for this beat me over the head until I wrote it that's all I have to say for myself. I GUESS I SHIP IT. MAYBE. (I do.)