WARNING!! THIS STORY CONTAINS YAOI LEMON!! AND...MASTURBATION!! DON'T LIKE, LEAVE NOW OR FOREVER HOLD THY PEACE!
AN: Alright, I posted this before I could change my mind. It's pretty bad, but I really wanted to get this idea down..well. Yeah. It's pretty much Naruto looking back on his life. I dont know how to explain what Gaara is...but I'm sure you can figure it out......
Please review and all that junk! OH and I dont know if Iruka is younger than Kakashi, but in my story, he is. So, just to clear that up, Iruka is younger than Kakashi.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto
It stared out as a normal day. I visited Sakura at the hospital after her accident on a mission; she had been sliced by a kunai on her neck, and it hit a major nerve. Stubborn as always, she wanted to be released so she could go back to her normal life, but Grandma Tsunade insisted on her staying another couple days. I hated seeing her sit, frustrated, reading a book for the fourth time. The huge pink gash was still very visible, and I wanted to reach out and touch it. Feel the stitches that stuck out from open parts, feel the sensitive flesh; I wondered if it was burning hot, like Sakura said it was. She said sometimes it was such a scorching kind of pain, she could barely stand it.
The day passed without any other happening; nobody spoke to me. I was used to that, but it still pained me when I saw everyone else talking freely with their friends while I was left to watch.
I was also immune to the teasing I obtained. Especially from Gaara. He was two years older than me, and probably the most beautiful boy at the school. With fiery red hair and kohl rimmed eyes, he was attractive in every way possible. I would occasionally catch myself staring at him during class, just gazing at his perfect face, his pale curving neck. Though, I always managed to stop myself from reaching out and touching it. I wanted to squeeze the porcelain skin, massage it until he moaned.
But he hated me with such intensity, I had to look away in sorrow whenever he caught me gaping at him.
That day, he had walked up to me as I was sitting on the ground, leaning against the brick wall. Towering over me, he smirked and crossed his arms. I stretched my back, so I was face to face with his crotch. He didn't seem to notice, but I tensed.
"Naruto," he cooed lightly, bending down to lock eyes with me. It was like I was hypnotized; the green depths bored into my skull and his lips were slightly parted. They were full and a glistening pink color, and his pearly white teeth showed. I could see his tongue.
When I didn't reply, he lifted his finger and tipped my chin up.
His touch startled me, sending an electric storm through my body. He tilted my head so he was looking down on my face. The ends of his crimson hair brushed my cheek, and I dared to stretch my arm out and stroke it.
In the back of my mind, I knew Gaara was doing this just to spite me, just to prove I would never have a chance of even becoming friends with him.
But, no matter how it would turn out, I liked to enjoy it.
"Naruto, I want you," he said roughly, his lips inches from mine. It took all my power not to crush them together.
"I…want…you," I breathed, repeating him. I liked the sound of my words mimicking his.
"You're a slut," he whispered into my ear. That wasn't entirely true, simply because I had never had sex before. But I was clueless enough to think I had. I jerked off too much and too openly. I did it leisurely, carelessly, so naturally, everyone knew about it.
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Back then, I was so confused. I was confused about sex, about whether I took an attraction to men or women, or both. I followed the crowd, doing whatever they did.
In truth, everyone hated me. Of course, the teachers didn't, only because they were required to work with me. It wasn't that I wasn't smart; in fact, I was very intelligent. I passed all my tests with flying colors, and I comprehended everything within minutes of the explanation. It's just I wasn't smart in the social subject.
Though, there was Sakura…she had stayed with me since we were little kids, ever since we overheard Kakashi and Iruka speaking behind a closed door when we were 12. We had pressed our ears to the wooden walls, straining to hear what they were saying.
They weren't really saying anything, more like screaming and moaning.
Sakura had I had argued over this for a while, debating on whether it was a medical treatment or they were having a fight.
"Go in!" She had insisted, smiling. "Find out what they're doing!"
"Why?" I had already decided I would listen to her, but I just wanted to talk to her. I craved her voice.
"I'll give you a kiss if you do it," she had promised, and I instantly jumped up to open the door. Kissing Sakura was like a long term goal for me.
While she watched from afar, I turned the knob and pushed it open. It was completely dark, the moaning still continuing. I fumbled around for the light switch, flipping it on when I found it on the wall.
What I saw, at first, I didn't understand. I gawked openly; Kakashi was sandwiched in between Iruka and the messy bed. His pale legs were hooked over Iruka's shoulders, and the scarred-nose ninja gripped his thighs tightly. The younger Jounin was on his knees, making thrusting motions with his hips. With every movement, Kakashi would shriek, bucking his waist down.
Sakura was just as dumbstruck as I; we watched like that for another five minutes. We stood rigid as they both screamed in unison and a white liquid burst from the Sharigan user's cock, and he arched his back as Iruka stiffened, fisting the sheets.
The lay there panting, until they finally realized Sakura and I had been spying.
The rest of it was just a blur. A scene where Kakashi and Iruka apologized to us repeatedly, then begged us not to say anything. We agreed reluctantly to keep their secret.
After thanking us, they fled, like nothing had ever happened.
They avoided us. Whenever they'd pass us in the halls, they'd immediately turn around and run in the other direction. Neither me nor Sakura could see why they were so ashamed of what they'd done.
"Maybe it's because they're both men," Sakura had shrugged. But I still couldn't grasp what difference that made. I wondered what it was like to be entered by another person, and a week after that incident, I put my fingers in myself for the first time.
When I remember all this, I'm embarrassed. I was hopelessly running through a maze that I couldn't find the end of.
And the worst part was that Sakura never gave me that kiss.
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"I-I'm a slut…" I copied. In the distance, I saw a group of other boys studying us, laughing. Gaara was always like this. He'd sweet talk me, pretend he actually did want me, until I ended up jerking off in front of him. That's what he enjoyed. He was known as the pervert who'd slept with everyone; I guess I was his last target, his last victim. He was like some sort of sick sex expert, and he was so serious about it that it was frightening.
He was respected amongst the students, so people would agree to do whatever he wanted so he could survey it. If they would kiss, he'd lean in close and notice where their tongues went, what their hands did, every little detail was happily scrutinized by the deranged red-head.
I was suddenly snapped back into the situation as Gaara's breath sent burning sensations around my chest. It was just then I realized he had taken my shirt off.
There were whoops and cheers coming from the gathering crowd as Gaara left smarting bite marks on my neck.
I was the bug squished under the microscope.
Gaara took my left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and gently sucking.
I moaned easily, and the image of Kakashi flashed before my eyes as I arched my back.
"You're so easy," he voiced my own thoughts as he continued to bite and nip until the nub became hard. Switching to the right nipple, he preoccupied his other hand by slipping it down my pants.
The throng of people erupted in applause, as he gripped my extremely hard member and I screamed. It wasn't unusual for me to become aroused so quickly, and my erection was quickly getting painful.
"Play with yourself," he commanded, removing his hand and sitting back on his haunches. "I want to watch what you do." The crowd suddenly went silent; he was in one of his experimental moods.
I hastily stood up and slid my pants down to my ankles, not batting an eyelash as everyone gasped as my cock was unleashed. It throbbed with need, precum dripping from the tip.
Gaara's expression told me he had forgotten everyone else was there, for he observed me unblinkingly, sincerely interested.
I grabbed my length and pumped it furiously; I had done it so many times I knew exactly where my hand was supposed to go. Gaara remained unfazed as he put his chin in his hands and viewed me with curiosity. It was a habit of his.
I noticed with fascination the sizable bulge that was forming in his pants, but I had seen it before. He said I was easy, when he himself had become aroused during all of his own "sessions."
Without warning, I shoved a finger deep inside myself and dug around. It was second nature to me as I inserted three more fingers at once, shifting them in and out.
The mass of students crept closer to beware me like I was a piece of meat.
I riskily beckoned Gaara over, inviting him to come closer. He instantly obeyed, and I felt powerful at the thought that he did what I told him to do.
When I did this, it was like I became a different person. I fell into another world and I acted impulsively. It would always come back to haunt me.
Gaara crawled on his hands and knees over to me, meowing like a cat. It excited me beyond my day dreams.
Still mewling, he got so close to me I could feel his breath on my shaft.
"Use only your right hand," he instructed. I snatched my fingers out of my entrance, gaining a disbelieving cry from the other students.
I removed my left hand, placing it on Gaara's head and tangling it in his short hair to hold myself up. He let me, as I viciously pumped myself with only my right hand. He watched intently, looking for the reaction that I gave with just one hand.
I was feeling my much-needed release approaching me with speed, but I nervous of coming in front of so many people.
Nevertheless, I couldn't hold it anymore, and I exploded into my hand, the liquid splashing my chest. Gaara sat back, amused, as I slowly let my grip fall from his head. He stood up, looking me up and down as he did, and dryly handed me my shirt. I swiftly redressed, waiting for him to say something.
"Whore," he spat at me, turning around to join his friends, all of them laughing uncontrollably.
Then, I started crying. It wasn't unusual, I cried a lot. I heard footsteps coming towards me, and I instantly knew it was Sakura. I could smell the faint odor of vanilla and hospital bandages.
She bent down and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, helping me up and guiding me back to my apartment.
"W-whore…" I whimpered, and she balanced me by tightening a grip around my waist. Somehow, I knew she had been watching. I could feel her disappointed stare the whole time.
"It's not your fault," she said hotly. "It's that fucking pervert! Using you like that…" She continued to rant, pausing every now and then to wipe a tear from my cheek.
Her body was warm against my side, and I felt myself hardening. Her chest was pressed against my ribs, and I saw how short she was.
She dropped me off at my door awkwardly, shuffling her feet.
"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked one final time, noticing the significant amount of wetness over the protruding knot in my pants. I realized I hadn't fully cleaned myself up after my encounter with Gaara.
I looked away, embarrassed.
"Stay home tomorrow," she ordered without waiting for my answer. "Just…be careful, okay?" I nodded, but she didn't seem satisfied. I followed her with my eyes as she became a pink speck in the distance, then disappeared.
But before I could even turn around, a hand was placed delicately on my shoulder.
"What do we have here?" A velvety voice whispered, and my heart stopped.