"Gaara…?"
He paused, fingertips over the keyboard, and looked down at his side. Bleary black eyes gazed up at him, placed in the face of a man with an incredible case of bedhead. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"
Lee, after a second, shook his head and settled back against Gaara's thigh. "No. No, you did not. Mmm… What time is it?"
"Five in the morning."
"MMmmm… That would explain it. My internal alarm clock demands that I begin my day with full energy!" Instead of listening to his internal alarm clock, however, he clung to Gaara like he was a teddy bear and closed his eyes again. "What are you doing?"
"Lee…"
"Right, right. I understand, you can not tell me." He smiled. "What do you want for breakfast?"
~::~
Gaara had a nickname that he used whenever he went out to negotiate with other families. This name stroke fear in his foes, admiration in his allies, and, most importantly, it got his lover hot and bothered. But that third reason was beside the point at the moment.
At the moment, that second reason was the point exactly.
"Shukaku, please! Have mercy!" Gaara didn't though. He had no mercy in his heart. So he shot the man between the eyes.
Then he turned to the scum's buddy, cowering in the corner, piss in his pants, and he cocked his desert eagle. "Answer me truthfully. Did I or did I not warn you to take your business out of my territory?"
"I don't – not me! – please, don't – !" He screamed, clutching his leg, and Gaara very slowly removed his heel from the side of his knee. "Yes, you told us! Please, d-don't, don't kill me… I have a, a family too, I was j-just trying to f-feed them…"
"I've checked out your background," Gaara interrupted. "You don't have a family."
And then he killed him too.
~::~
The name "Shukaku" was at fault of his red hair. That, and his father hated him, but mostly because of his hair. Time for a lesson of the Japanese language!
"Shukaku", translated, means Lord (or Master) of Fire. Breaking it down, the prefix "Shu-" means lord or master or some form thereof. Then the suffix "-kaki" means fire. That is how we get "Shukaku".
Gaara, with his fiery red hair and attitude, was the perfect Lord of Fire.
And then there was his lover who agreed wholeheartedly.
~::~
"I want to take care of you today." Lee's eyes glistened with love and excitement as he pushed Gaara towards the bathroom. Gaara had just returned from the streets after eradicating those rats. "Shukaku-san," Lee finished in a small breath of a voice.
Gaara felt heat flash through him like a thunderbolt.
In the Yakuza, there were many, many, many secrets. The Konoha family had their fair share of dark and dirty clandestine topics. One of those topics that the Konoha family had never wanted to come to light was Rock Lee, their resident freak.
Now Lee was a freak for many things; cute, soft things like small animals, rainbows, spicy food, children who admire him… but then there was the not so cute, not so soft thing. The thing where Lee was turned on by power. And the title Shukaku was nothing if not a power play. After all, who were the people who uttered it? His enemies, who were afraid of him, and his targets, whom of which usually didn't live long after uttering it.
That secret would have been safe if Gaara had ignored, those four years ago, Lee's request to spar with him. Gaara had won and Lee had finished off the day by offering him his ass like a sacrifice because, apparently, not many people ever defeated Lee. As a matter of fact, no one had ever defeated Lee before. At least not in the long term sense as it appeared that they hadn't had him down for long. Lee had strength of will that could outlast the mountains and stretch longer than the Wall of China. And for Gaara to defeat him…
Gaara didn't usually give into the power play. But today he was wound up after dealing with those scumbags. It hadn't been drugs they had been selling to the kids under Gaara's protection, it hadn't been weapons to their parents – no, they had been selling people. And, Gaara, who had been used by his father for the first twelve years of his life, did not tolerate such activities.
So instead of chiding Lee like he usually did, because hearing the name people usually gurgled before they died come from his lover's lips could be considered less than a turn-on, he gave into it and let a dangerous smirk settle on his lips.
Lee shivered and his face turned brazen red before he went about undressing him. His fingertips traced each tattoo inked into his skin as he went.
The gory, vicious tanuki that was in the middle of his chest, its long barbed tail smashing down on his ribs… The monstrous white tiger Byakko, the celestial guardian of the West, snarled across his back, front claws embedded in his shoulder blades, and if Gaara lifted his arm, it looked like the tanuki and the guardian were glaring at each other. And then, as Lee crouched to take off his slacks, there was a bullet wound.
Except that last one wasn't a tattoo.
Lee hissed and pressed a kiss to it. It was just a graze, Gaara had barely taken note of it. "Did that hurt, Shukaku-san?"
"No."
"That's because you are so strong, Shukaku-san." Lee looked up at him with dilated eyes. His breathing had accelerated and Gaara watched his chest move frantically, trying to keep up with his wild heart.
"It's because it's so small."
Lee pressed another kiss to it. Licked. And then he turned around and started filling up the bath. Gaara stared at his ass, hugged by the spandex shorts he wore when he wasn't planning on going anywhere.
"Lee." He put a hand flat between Lee's shoulder blades. Beneath his touch, muscles bunched and his lover's breath caught.
"Yes, Shukaku-san…?"
"I'm going to fuck you." And it was going to hurt.
Lee knew that, but he shivered anyway and whimpered. "Understood, Shukaku-san!"
~::~
Lee had his own tattoos. The Yakuza was widely known for them.
Around his naval was the swirl-and-arrow-point design of his family. As a member, Lee took great pride in showing it off whenever he could get away with not wearing his shirt. He would die without the support of his family, not because losing it would most likely mean that there would be more than one person after his head, but because he breathed for them.
And then, across his back, was Ryu, claws digging into his shoulders, hind legs coming just short of his buttocks, and its long, long tail circling up and over to Lee's left arm, going round and round until the tip of its furred switch feathered on his wrist.
Now Ryu, like Gaara's Byakko, was a celestial guardian. Ryu was the green (or sometimes perceived as blue) dragon of the East, presiding over springtime and closely related to Sujaku, the phoenix celestial guardian of the South. Was it a coincidence?
No. Gaara had done it on purpose. He hadn't told Lee what he was planning, he had just gotten him drunk, knowing that his Id came out to play when his inhibitions were down, and then had fucked him compliant before dragging him to a tattoo parlor. It didn't matter how he felt about Lee, he wasn't about to unleash him on society shitfaced and full of energy.
The next morning, Gaara had been ready with water, medicine, and coffee. Also, he had had a birthday card. Despite his violent hangover (and back pains), Lee had been so happy about his gift that he had thanked Gaara all day long. And then he had kicked his ass for getting him drunk to begin with, but Gaara had been too lazy to care.
And then, Lee's little guilty pleasure, there was a squirrel on the inside of his right ankle. Of course it was trying to stuff an acorn in its mouth. For the record, Lee couldn't remember getting that one either and, considering that he most likely had had no one controlling him that night, Gaara felt pity for the tattoo parlor he went to.
But he really enjoyed that squirrel.
Now that all the hard fucking was over, Gaara kissed the lines of the tattoo and watched Lee from the corner of his eye. He was on the verge of sleep, boneless and appeased, and Gaara would most likely have to take him to the hospital for anal tearing. Just not at the moment. They were too content to move.
"Mmmm… Gaa-koi?"
"Yes?"
"How do you feel?"
He paused. "… Better."
"Good. Good." He stretched slowly and languidly, practically curving off the bed, and Gaara stalked his way back up the bed. "I heard about what they were doing." He wrapped his arms around Gaara's shoulders and kissed him. "I am sorry."
"Don't be."
"Gaa-koi?" Lee nuzzled into him. "I love you."
Gaara closed his eyes. "I know."
~::~
Lee used to be a delinquent. After his uncle had been killed in a shooting, he had been left to his own devices, alone in the world, and the world had chosen this particular soul to suddenly turn against. It took two years before he quit high school, took up drugs, and started fighting for the hell of it.
Naruto had been the one to put a stop to that.
"I had never been defeated before… I was so hot on my own victories, blind because of my hatred and rage, and then he was there like sunshine beating the darkness out of me. Naruto-kun looked down at me and said 'If you're going to fight, how about you fight for me and my family?' And that is how I ended up here!" Lee smiled up at the sky, cherry blossoms falling around them in an eerily romantic way. "If not for Naruto-kun, I would be in a very bad place. I owe him my life!"
But that didn't change the fact that he used to be a delinquent. Gaara even had a picture of the mean-eyed, snarling boy Lee used to be. His hair had been long, done up loosely in a braid, and he had seemed overly fond of wearing Mao suits. Of course, Lee didn't know he had it. He thought there was only one existing picture. It was in his closet for whenever he needed to be reminded of the "right path" which was the path following after Naruto.
Gaara believed that that delinquent was still alive in Lee. Somewhere. Of course, it was very far away from the part of Lee that adored soft and cute things and it was most likely small and neglected. It lived, however. How did he know?
Lee's face at the moment was a good indicator. Also, the three bodies around him were vaguely incriminating. Gaara couldn't be sure why they were there or what they had tried to do, but he felt certain they would never do it – whatever it was – again.
Then Lee, in the darkness of the parking complex, looked up and saw him. His dark expression dispelled and it was like looking into the heart of fire as Lee smiled and the emotions in his eyes softened to mush. "Gaa-koi!"
Gaara would never have to be on the other side of that delinquent glare. How did he know? Lee didn't hurt the ones he loved. And he never bothered to hide how much he loved Gaara.
~::~
Lee wasn't the only one saved by Naruto at some point in his life. However, he was the only one who still gave Naruto special privileges for it.
Lee wouldn't bow for anyone but Naruto and he didn't take orders from anyone but him unless absolutely necessary. Not even Gaara could get him to do a mission for him without going through Naruto first or get him to kneel before him. That could be the aftermath of him being a delinquent, though. Still, he treated Naruto with special care.
Gaara did not. "What the hell are you doing?"
Naruto went stiff in surprise. "Damn it, Red, when'd you get here?"
"I've been here. What are you doing?"
"How long?"
"Long enough to know that you better not be doing what it looks like you're doing." Which was very incriminating, even for a Yakuza boss.
"It's for Hinata!"
"I'm sure your wife appreciates the… effort." He eyeballed the pink splatter to his left, followed it across the floor to the red globs decorating the kitchen tiles, and then settled on the powdery form of the half-naked blonde. For one reason or another, his apron and shirt were on the floor in a charred, smoking pile.
Even while standing in the middle of a bakery disaster, Naruto and his tattoos still had a (somewhat) intimidating aura. That could be because of the snarling, terrifying nine-tailed kitsune over his midriff, tails fanning against his chest and front claws on his hips, head turned over its left leg to glare with violent red eyes up at Gaara. Or it could be the faces of the deceased that had come and go in Naruto's life over his left arm and right leg.
But then the overall affect was usually lost on the conga line of toads going down his spine. Not only that, but he was wearing a chef's hat and his boxers were begging Gaara to kiss him.
On that note, Naruto's pants were on the stove, sticky-looking and soaked with a white gooey substance.
"Where is Hinata?" Gaara finally settled for instead of saying anything on his mind.
"She's visiting her old man." Naruto turned back to his lateest concoction. Gaara edged his way close enough to glance over his shoulder. It was oil black and oozing, whatever it was. He made a slow retreat. "But she's coming back today and I thought I would surprise her with her homemade chocolates!"
"She will definitely be surprised." Hinata had spent most of her days in this room… cooking for, what Naruto affectionately termed, the family. Not that Hinata was a housewife; she was a fearsome, loyal woman and a mistress of the kyusho-jutsu fighting style (i.e., the fighting style that utilizes pressure points).
Gaara could imagine her turning her techniques on her beloved husband.
"Naruto."
"Yeah? G-uuh!" Naruto collapsed into Gaara's arms, knocked out cold, and Gaara lowered his other hand into his pocket and retrieved his phone. He went to speed dial. "Lee? ASAP, Konoha kitchen."
Later that night, Gaara watched Naruto wake up at the dining room table, looking dazed and confused and then pissed with a hint of murderous. But he was fully dressed, cleaned up, and Gaara let the kitchen door swing shut behind him as he turned back to Lee.
The kitchen was spotless, almost sparkling in its cleanliness, and Lee was at the polished counter where trays of different chocolates were aligned. He filled the last crème-filled treat and then took a step back. Standing there, proudly posed with hands on hips and a somewhat smattered pink apron asking Gaara to "kiss the cook", Gaara decided to obey the apron.
For all his hard work, Lee deserved the affection he so direly sought for.
And then Naruto charged in. "What the hell's the big idea he- well, hello~ lovey-dovey birds! What are you two getting down into?" Lee made a defenseless squeak as Naruto fixed him with that fanged, intense grin that said he would go to any lengths to embarrass them.
Gaara held up a tray of chocolates. Crisis averted.
As Naruto was busy fawning over the delicacies, Gaara pressed another kiss to Lee's cheek and scooted him out the swinging door. "He'll want to be alone with her."
Lee smiled and nodded. "The power of love is strong in him!"
~::~
Hinata was an incredibly gentle, amazingly lovely mafia wife. It was almost unbelievable that someone so unspoiled and soft could be in the Yakuza.
In the same breath, however, she was also deceptively intelligent and nearly undefeatable in her own rights.
Gaara knew the moment she edged her way into his room that this was going to be an interesting visit. Seeing as how he was naked, resting above the covers, and Lee was resting his head on his thigh, dangerously close to his half-hard member.
What could he say? With Lee's incredible mouth so dangerously close to him, he would have to be impotent not to be interested.
Hinata flushed dangerously red and redirected her gaze with great curiosity to the series of portholes lining his private quarters. "T-this is a w-wonderful home you have m-made for yourself, G-Gaara-san…"
He nodded in acknowledgment. Gaara kept it to himself that it was only a wonderful home when Lee was around. Otherwise, it was only an interesting headquarters that suited his daily needs and housed a number of his subordinates.
Lee had this habit of his of bringing a homey sensation to the hearts of anyone standing within hearing range of him. Gaara knew because he had seen his fellow yakuza react to it before.
"You're not here to talk about that." Because she wasn't. Why bother asking if he knew it to be true?
She smiled at the sunset. "I know Naruto-kun didn't make those chocolates."
Gaara wasn't prone to lying, despite his profession. He found that the truth was far more powerful, no matter the subject at hand. Hinata knew that. So he stayed quiet. What point was there in talking if he had no plan to dispute her?
This was beginning to turn into a one-sided conversation.
Hinata fidgeted. "Could you please wake Lee up so I can thank him?"
He'd rather not. "How did you narrow the search down to him?"
She smiled suddenly, dangerously. "I have ways of making my husband talk."
Clever woman.
Gaara braided his hand through Lee's incredibly soft hair. "You can thank him later."
"I would rather thank him now."
"Why?"
"I'm here now."
This was Naruto's influence on her coming out – that stubbornness, that shamelessness… this was what they got for them being high school sweethearts.
Gaara tilted his head into a clenched fist, very much aware of Lee sleep-talking against his skin with slobber-slicked lips.
"You're going to have to admit defeat," he idly told the purple-haired wife.
"You must not know my husband," she returned slyly. Then blanched, a sweat drop curling around her cheek and down her jaw. "W-what are you doing?"
Gaara was not often given to smirking. When he did, he made sure to do so with a great sense of smugness. But this time was different. He had to hide his smirk because he would be damned before he gave her the reassurance of knowing he was only… teasing her.
Teasing was not the same thing as lying.
"I'm doing as you told me to do and waking him up."
She kept her eyes determinedly out the window. Such was the joys of peripheral vision. "T-that is no good way t-to wake someone up!"
"It wakes him up just fine." He petted Lee's hair out of his face, edged his jaw up a little more, and Lee's drowsily mumbling lips grazed his erection. "I've done this before."
"I-I'll leave y-you two n-now."
Victory was sweet.
Gaara watched her quick retreat with amusement. Then he hissed. "That's a dirty trick, Lee."
"Mm mmphmd md."
~::~
Their relationship was a badly kept secret. For one, homosexuals weren't favored in the Yakuza. For another thing, they were from two different families. All around, this was not a good situation to be in.
But Lee belonged to the most powerful Yakuza family known and Gaara was boss of his own family, which had risen in rank and supremacy since he had taken over.
So, broken, unspoken rules aside, they could actually get away with it. Gaara's subordinates weren't going to turn against him anytime soon and Naruto's subordinates… Well, they would lay down their lives for their boss and for each other by extension.
As a couple in the Yakuza, they were safe.
As members of the Yakuza, they were bound to run into more than one fool who was not as foolish as they initially let on.
Gaara hadn't moved in four hours. Not since Lee had been brought to the hospital. He had no plans of going anywhere till his lover woke up either.
"Y'know, if he was awake right now, he would beat your whiny ass up." Naruto lit himself a cigarette and took a puff.
A nurse passed by the open doorway and saw this. Before she could even bother to step in and remind the Yakuza boss of the rules, a doctor had rushed up and whispered into her ear. Quick as a flash, she was scurrying away, pale in the face.
Gaara reached out and took Lee's limp hand in both of his. It was cold. Lee was never cold. He pressed his lips to Lee's knuckles, eyes sliding shut before he took his hot forehead to the cool appendage.
"Yeah, fine, whatever. Just ignore me… Asshole. OI! You're not really supposed to ignore me!"
Gaara turned a glare on him so fast, Naruto blanched. "What do you want?"
"Well, you know, the usual… World peace, ramen, friends, ramen, my wife, ramen, and for you to stop fucking moping!"
"I guess we don't all get what we want, do we?"
~::~
By the end of the third day, he was forced by his right-hand man, his brother Kankuro, to resume work under threat of his oldest sibling's retribution for forcing all of his work on her.
By the end of the second week, his five hours spent in Lee's room every day dwindled to five hours every other day.
Five weeks later, Naruto could not get him to visit Lee under threat of annihilation. His reasoning was simple. "He's not my Lee."
He wasn't, really. Lee wouldn't want him to see him so defenseless and useless, a shell of his former being.
Seven week mark, he got the phone call; three, short clipped words as if Naruto would rather not talk to him at all.
"He's awake, Red."
So he went.
Lee was sat up in his hospital bed, surrounded by small treats and balloons and Get Well cards. His sterile sheets had been exchanged with shades of green quilts and blankets. All of these reasons to be happy, but it wasn't till Lee looked up and saw him that that spark that Gaara was so familiar with entered his eyes and lit up his entire expression.
"Gaa-koi!"
"Lee…" He shoved a heart-shaped box of chocolates onto the floor to make room for himself on the gurney. He and his lover met halfway, the taste of stale breath, plastic, and most prominently poorly served chicken assaulting him but he would not move away for the life of him.
Lee moaned into his mouth and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, arching his upper body into his as cards and trinkets were carelessly pushed onto the floor. Lee was worming his way closer and Gaara wasn't doing anything to stop him. As a matter of fact, it could be said, though Gaara would not support the evidence to such, that Gaara was the one pulling him closer. The quilts and blankets fell away, the same quilts and blankets someone painstakingly brought in just for the sake of Lee's comfort.
It was still Gaara he was happiest to see, though.
And Gaara was happier for it too.
"How long have we been apart?" Lee breathed against his ear. "Gaa-koi?"
He could give the very literal answer of seven weeks, three days, seventeen hours, forty-five minutes, and seventy-six seconds to him.
But Lee had most likely already been told how long he was unconscious. So Gaara levered Lee up into his lap and grinded against him, well aware that Lee needed so many things before he needed this; a shower, physical therapy, medication, everything…
"Too long," he answered shortly. His mouth attacked Lee's as if he held him personally responsible for missed time. A part of him did. The other part didn't care.
"S-shower?" Lee panted.
"Yes," he growled.
~::~
Lee needed help standing on his own two feet at first. The nurses had taken special care to exercise with him while he was in a coma, but he had still been stationary for seven weeks.
Gaara supported him between his own body and the shower stall's wall, Lee's legs wrapped desperately around his waist as the boss plunged up into his tight, hot body.
His back was scourged with Lee's frantic clawing, nails painting his shoulders and nape angrily red, and he loved it.
Gaara loved the reminder that this was Lee and Lee was awake.
He pushed his face into Lee's throat and gave himself over to the motion of their bodies, to the hot spray of water cascading over them, to the melody of Lee's cries and groans and demands.
He forced himself to ask why the water was suddenly so salty and found that it was a question he would rather not answer.
~::~
"Oh, yes!" Lee settled contently down into the gurney, safely tucked in with his green blankets and quilts while all trinkets and candies had been tucked away into a corner. He stroked a hand through Gaara's hair, as the boss was using his shoulder for a headrest, and smiled down at him. "Happy Valentines Day, Gaa-koi!"
And what, Gaara thought to himself, a happy day it is.
Author's Note: I started this a while ago, but I finished it for Lunaka and KakaIru… Does that make sense? I hope so. Happy belated Valentines Day!
Goodness, I've done more for Valentines Day than I did for Christmas…
