Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warning: M for mature.
Please note: In this story they do not practise the use of condoms. Thankfully, they are fictional characters and so need not worry about sexually transmitted diseases, you, little children, do have to worry. So please practice safe sex. Additionally, prepping is also good. And foreplay... ... Just, don't try what you read here at home is what I'm saying.
A/N: Sorry for the delay. My classwork has really punched me in the gut this semester. Anyhow, here it is: part II.
Further, some scenes in this chapter mirror those in the NaruSasu prequel to this story. (Mainly the last few flashback scenes). The gist of what you need to know is this: Back in 2011, Sasuke was dating Naruto, but had not yet told his friends (barring Gaara), which creates an unfortunate situation when Sasuke's friends and Naruto's group decide to meet at the May festival, which Sakura is sort of hoping will lead to a date with Naruto.
That said, on with the story!
Merry-Go-Round pt. II
By: D.o.D
January, 2011: Konoha's streets.
It was the sort of dreary winter day that you always seem to forget about during summertime; a grey and soggy mess promising wet socks and cold ears. Gaara made his way through the slush, his shoulders pulled high, hands in his pockets and a miserable, whiny voice in his head going on and on about the unfairness of it all.
The voice was complaining about Neji. For the past two weeks, the older man had acted completely indifferent, as if the redhead's outburst had never happened. It wasn't fair; it was as if Gaara had no effect on the Hyuuga no matter what he did; like he was entirely powerless. He didn't like it.
What he liked even less, however, was that he cared enough to not like it.
He turned the corner and the psychologist's office came into view, making his mood darken even further. For a moment, he considered just turning around, leaving the infuriating brunet to sit around on his own for an hour whilst Gaara did something actually worthwhile.
With a disgruntled growl, he put that thought to rest and steeled himself for yet another vexing encounter.
"How have you been?" Neji asked as if he actually gave a damn. Which, Gaara was convinced, he didn't.
"Lethargic," he drawled at the older man. Neji's lilac eyes pierced into him.
"Lethargic?" He prodded.
"Lethargic," Gaara repeated.
"Gaara," Neji's tone made the redhead gnash his teeth; he sounded disappointed, "I'm-," the brunet fell abruptly silent, as if someone had slapped him. Too bad nobody had. Neji's gaze darted across Gaara's features, his expression one of intense thought. Finally, he started over:
"Gaara," this time his voice was much softer; Gaara didn't like that either, "What's wrong?" The redhead felt like a wildfire had been let loose in his chest.
"I thought you said there was 'nothing wrong' with me," he snapped back, eyes blazing. Neji seemed unperturbed.
"I did not ask what was wrong with you, I asked what was wrong," he reiterated. Gaara narrowed his eyes.
"And I told you," he replied, "I'm lethargic." For a moment, he swore he could see Neji's mask break, a myriad of emotions washing over that usually stoic face, and then they were gone.
"How does being lethargic feel?" He queried. Gaara stared at him, trying to think up an answer which would be equal parts frustrating and offensive. What ended up escaping him was the truth.
"Like I don't exist."
Neji, eyes steady, leaned forward, reached out, and clasped Gaara's hand. The redhead sat perfectly still, feeling the warmth of the other man's hand on his, feeling lost. Then:
"Also, it feels like I want to acquire an illegal firearm."
Neji retracted his hand, sighing.
"We both know that is not true," he claimed. Gaara raised one eyebrow, mimicking his best friend's signature 'you don't know me or what I'm capable of'-face. To his surprise, it worked; Neji sat up straight, eyes narrowing slightly. It didn't seem in any way voluntary or deliberate, more like a knee-jerk reaction.
'Interesting.'
As an experiment, he carefully altered his posture: back straight, shoulders relaxed, legs uncrossed, and chin slightly tilted up. He finished it off by letting his eyelids lower halfway and altering his expression from Sasuke's 'you don't know me'-raised eyebrow to Itachi's 'your disobedience is of no consequence, peasant'-raised eyebrow. The effect was immediate -and entertaining. Neji's eyes widened into a look of contained dislike, his fingers twitching ever so slightly on the desk. Gaara smirked at him. That seemed to be enough to shake him out of it, since he returned to his usual, composed posture, though his eyes still peered at Gaara with only half-veiled suspicion.
It felt like victory. Gaara relaxed back into his normal position, a sharp smile on his face.
'Well, well, well,' he mused, 'You just make enemies everywhere, don't you, Itachi?'
Meanwhile, Neji seemed to have collected himself enough to continue his endless barrage of questions.
"Why did you do that?"
"Do what?" Gaara replied, probably looking like the smug bastard he felt like.
"You know what," Neji told him, a hint of iron in his voice.
'Looks like playtime's over.' Gaara shrugged.
"I felt like testing something," he admitted.
"What?"
"You know what," he countered, relishing the karmic justice.
"Why?" Neji pressed on. Gaara paused. Why had he done it? It wasn't just to test whether Neji knew Itachi, although that bit of information would surely come in handy, nor was it just to rattle him. Gaara contemplated it for a bit.
"How do you see me?" He asked at last. Neji looked taken aback by the question. Understandable, since Gaara was slightly taken aback himself. He never willingly gave other people an opportunity to define or judge him, Sasuke excluded -though Sasuke generally didn't subject him to labelling anyway.
"How do you mean?" Neji wondered, completely side-stepping the question.
"I mean," Gaara clarified, "when you look at me, what kind of person do you see?" Neji looked as serious as the redhead had ever seen him.
"I see an intelligent, strong-willed and impressively self-sufficient young man, who in order to survive in a hostile environment has created a harsh set of rules and views to live by." Gaara clenched his jaw. The words hurt more than they should. But he had asked for them, and he wasn't about to start complaining about receiving what he had demanded. Instead, he pushed down the chilly, dark mist of insufficiency and faced Neji's gaze.
"And how did you see me just now, when I did… that?" He questioned, tilting his head to the side. Neji hesitated.
"I saw…," he faltered, as if unsure whether to continue, "someone dangerous," he made as if to go on, but seemed to stop himself. Gaara tilted his chin up, like Itachi and Sasuke always did when they felt threatened.
"And that," he stated, "is why I did it."
-X-
April 25th, 2014: The Hyuuga Clan's Cabin.
Time: 21:05
"Where are they?" Kiba whispered frantically in his ear as he was manhandled into the kitchen. Naruto shook off his best friend's claw-like grip and stepped away to look at him properly whilst the door swung shut behind them.
Kiba was about two beers and one piece of bad news away from a breakdown. His eyes -slightly unfocused thanks to the eight or so drinks he had already consumed -reminded Naruto of a picture he saw once of a rabbit about to be shot. And hadn't that exhibition been a swell way to spend a Saturday, Sasuke.
"Calm down," he told the brunet in a surprisingly convincing way, holding up his hands, "they're probably just running late. Maybe they stopped to eat or something?" A more likely scenario was that they had consumed a few galleons of coffee and had to stop at every gas-station along the way to use the bathroom, but whatever. Kiba stared at him, hands shaking slightly, a glimmer of hope re-entering his eyes.
"You think so?" Naruto nodded sagely, though to be honest he wasn't sure. Sasuke and Gaara was supposed to be there more than an hour ago, and had yet to appear. He had actually walked down to the main road -quite the long walk, he grumbled to himself - just so he could get reception to check his phone. There had been no messages, and when he tried to call it went straight to voicemail. Kiba closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then headed to the fridge, probably to diminish their supply of alcohol even further.
In the living-room next door the party was in full swing, with all their friends -and Neji -in differing levels of inebriation, but most -not Neji -jolly and ready for the party of their lives. Or so Naruto liked to imagine anyway, and the muffled voices certainly sounded cheerful. His own good spirits were somewhat dampened by the absence of a certain Uchiha, however, and by the increasingly irrational groom, who did not enjoy being the enter of Neji's attention one bit.
He snapped out of his musings in time to watch Kiba try to open the door using his hip, since his arms were occupied by what seemed to be a year's worth of hangovers.
'Hurry up and get here, S'uke,' he pleaded internally, before heading over to steady Kiba's wobbling tower of bottles before something truly devastating happened.
-X-
January, 2011: The office that no one want to watch on TV.
"I've thought about what you said," Gaara declared. Neji gave him an inquisitive look.
"What part?"
"About getting a girlfriend," Gaara clarified, leaning back in his chair. Neji's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.
"Really?" Gaara blinked at him.
"Well, I'm not getting a girlfriend, obviously," he amended. Neji nodded slowly.
"That's great, Gaara," he praised.
'Figures therapy would be the one place where teenagers are encouraged to have sex.' Of course, whether he was still considered a teenager was debatable, now that his 18th birthday had come and gone.
"Do you have someone special in mind?" Neji inquired. Gaara frowned. Did he? He wasn't even entirely sure why he had brought it up. Especially since he had no intention of going out into the world and finding himself a nice wholesome boy to share frappuccinos with, or whatever couples were supposed to do. He settled for:
"No." Which put a quick end to that conversation.
-X-
April 25th, 2014: Sasuke's Car.
Time: 19:11
It had taken them a good twenty minutes to calm down enough for Sasuke to be able to drive again, which was a very long time for two people who were the textbook definition of 'intimacy issues'. Back on the road, there was a sense of exhausted contentment between them which required no words. Still, the silence had to be broken at some point, and that point was when Sasuke took the exit leading into Konoha.
"I thought the cabin was in the mountains?" Gaara remarked.
"It is," Sasuke replied, making another turn towards their old neighbourhood. Gaara, apparently not feeling charitable enough to actually ask 'so why are we here?', gave him an annoyed look, which he ignored.
"Sasuke."
"We're not going to the stag-do," Sasuke admitted begrudgingly. Gaara's thin eyebrows climbed up towards his hairline.
"Why not?"
"Because," Sasuke grumbled, "the groom and the best man are idiots." Gaara stared at him.
"I'm not disagreeing with that statement," he replied carefully, "but I did come here because I was invited, and last I heard you had a bit of a… soft spot for the best man."
"Yeah," Sasuke quipped, "but not a blind one."
"Well that's debatable."
"Hyuuga is going." Gaara's head turned in Sasuke's direction so fast the Uchiha was sure he'd hear a crack. There was a beat of silence, then:
"I'm assuming you're not talking about the bride-to-be?" Sasuke simply shook his head in answer, sighing.
"I don't know what they were thinking," he lamented, "they probably have some insane and clearly unspecific plan." Gaara stared the glove compartment.
"They didn't tell you, did they?" He ventured.
"Hn."
"And they thought you wouldn't figure it out?"
"Hn," Sasuke grunted again, the ire he had been feeling the past few days swimming up towards the surface of his mind. How Naruto even imagined that this little ploy wouldn't end in disaster, he couldn't fathom; his boyfriend of three years should be well aware that the moment he stepped into that cabin and saw Hyuuga would be the start of the worst fight in both of their lives. How could he do something like that to Sasuke's best friend? He could feel the rage bubbling beneath his ribs, spreading out into his fingertips; making them itch to punch something.
And then, Gaara laughed.
Sasuke sent him a disbelieving glance, but the redhead kept laughing, and somehow, it made Sasuke laugh too. He had forgotten about this. About having a friend who laughed in the most serious situations, simply because they were so fucked up. So they kept laughing at the fact that Naruto and Kiba had invited their least favourite person to the stag-do, and that those morons had thought they could keep it from him. They laughed at how terrible it would have been, had they walked into the cabin to find Gaara's ex in there, and by the time he pulled into a parking-space outside Otogakure, they were still giggling about how much of an earful Naruto would get once he got home.
"So," Gaara was staring at the dashboard with a small smile playing in the corner of his mouth, "do you think it was a reconciliation plan?" Sasuke snorted.
"In that case, I doubt I would have been invited." Gaara gave him a questioning look, but he didn't ask. Instead, he fixed his eyes on the familiar building in front of them.
"So… coffee?" Sasuke nodded, but neither of them made to get out of the car. Not just yet. Instead they sat in silence, watching people enter and exit through the door they had pushed open so many times.
"Hey, Gaara?"
"Mm?" The redhead sounded sleepy. Or maybe just content.
"I punched Hyuuga in the face," Sasuke admitted. Gaara turned to look at him, and his aquamarine eyes seemed endless and unreadable.
"Of course you did."
-X-
February, 2011: The Rogue museum for modern art: "if you know what it's supposed to be- it's not worth seeing."
"Now this piece is from one of the most promising young artists in Konoha," declared the pretentious lady who was -apparently -the orchestrator of the show.
"Look at how the lines converge to create the illusion of entrapment," she went on, pointing to a haphazard collection of strings glued to a canvas, "the way this artist uses dimension truly conveys their motive -the individual's struggle against the norms of a euthanised society," she paused breathlessly, "Brilliant!" The crowd clapped, some of them nodding assuredly to their companions, as if to say 'yes, my thoughts precisely!'.
"This is absolute shit," Itachi mumbled into his ear, and Gaara had to bite back a snicker. They were at some fancy high-cultured exhibition named "Imagining the unimaginable", which should have served as warning enough, to be honest. One of the artists, Deidara, was a friend of Itachi's, however, and Gaara had been shanghaied to play the role of impressed youth around Deidara's sculptures, supposedly to impress the critics with his ability to reach the younger -apathetic -crowds.
Still, Gaara didn't really mind. He was one of very few people who actually knew Itachi and still enjoyed his company. In small doses anyway. He listened as the woman on the stage finished rambling about the selective domestic oppression of the unenlightened middle-class man, and finally managed to wrap up her introductory speech.
Freed from their roles as pretentious listeners, the crowd dispersed and started forming smaller groups of pretentious bull-shitters who floated from room to room like disabled sharks. Gaara was unceremoniously dragged into a room full of strange clay-sculptures, which he assumed to be Deidara's collection. Itachi found time to introduce him to the sculptor -a boisterous blond with an eclectic personality -before both the older men were whisked away by some socialite or other.
Being nothing if not a diligent worker, Gaara hung around for a good half hour, taking his time to study each piece in detail. To be honest, Deidara was a rather skilled artist, a lot better than the glued string guy anyway. Feeling he had honoured his end of the bargain, he drifted away to watch the rest of the exhibition; most of which was -as Itachi had put it -absolute shit.
He was trying his best not to laugh at a canvas with three red paint-splotches on it, titled "the abuse of power as seen through the eyes of a bird", when he heard his name being called by a familiar voice.
"Gaara?" The redhead turned around, and there he was, champagne-flute in hand, looking thoroughly confused and a bit wary.
"Neji," Gaara acknowledged.
"I-what are you doing here?" the Hyuuga asked, looking like he had just bumped into a camel in Siberia. Gaara didn't know whether to find it funny or infuriating.
"Appreciating the arts," he drawled, "what are you doing here?" Neji made a strange noise, almost like a small laugh.
"Touché," he replied, smiling. Gaara stared. He had never seen Neji act quite this… freely.
"I'm here supporting a friend," the brunet explained, sipping his champagne. Gaara tilted his head to the left a little, thinking.
"Me too," he murmured eventually, "in a sense." Neji blinked, and then shook his head, as if to say: 'I'm not even going to ask'.
"Well, what do you think so far?" He asked instead. Gaara smirked.
"I quite like the one over in the corner," he confided, pointing at a nook over by the fire exit, "it has glitter on it." Neji looked amused.
"Indeed? And what does it portray?"
"The unending misery of mankind through the eyes of a pretentious art-student who was high on mushrooms at the time, allegedly," Gaara rattled off.
"Seriously?"
"I might have added the last part," the redhead admitted.
"I couldn't have guessed."
"My exact thoughts when I read the name of the piece."
Neji snorted. Somehow making him laugh made Gaara feel strangely accomplished.
"So," said Neji, smiling, "are you here alone?"
Gaara shook his head 'no'.
"With a friend?" Neji inquired. Gaara thought it over. Itachi was less 'friend' and more psychotic relative.
"Not exactly," was what he settled for. Neji's expression seemed to shift slightly at this, as if Gaara had given something away. Before the brunet had the chance to reply, however, Gaara's phone buzzed. Apparently, the critics had appeared, and it was time for him to act the desensitised teen who was awoken by the questionable motifs of Deidara's art.
"I have to go," he told Neji.
"Of course," the brunet smiled, "it was nice to see you Gaara."
"Likewise."
-X-
April 25th, 2014: They Hyuuga Clan's Cabin.
Time: 22:35.
Unsurprisingly, Shikamaru was the one who finally started asking the real questions. More specifically, he ambled into the kitchen where Naruto and Kiba were once again in process of filling their hands, pockets and a plastic bag Naruto had found in the far recesses of the fridge with bottles, and -in an uncharacteristically alert voice -asked them:
"What have you managed to do now?" Kiba and Naruto both straightened up and, teetering slightly, turned to look at him.
"I… huh?" Kiba replied, unhelpfully. Shikamaru sighed.
"Look, I have nothing against Neji," he began. Naruto snorted.
'Well that would make one of you,' he thought. Neji assimilated to the group about as well a giraffe did to the arctic tundra.
"But," Shikamaru continued, sending the blond an unimpressed look, "I can't help noticing that a fair few of us didn't know he would be here, and since I did know that Gaara was going to be here, I was a bit surprised." He paused, and Naruto vaguely concluded that Shikamaru probably wasn't part of the reason why they kept having to refill the beverages.
"Surprised?" Kiba asked, looking like Shikamaru had just recited a physics theorem. To be fair though, Kiba was part of the reason they kept having to refill the beverages.
"Naruto," Shikamaru said, clearly deciding that the best man was the most likely to give him a sensible answer, "does Sasuke know that Neji is here?" Naruto gave him a confused look.
"Of course," he answered, glancing at Kiba for confirmation. The future groom looked…
'Like that time he broke my PlayStation.'
"Oh for fuck's sake," Naruto bit out, "you didn't tell him?" Kiba spun around to face him, a nervous smile on his face.
"I was… um… I was planning to," Kiba told him, clutching the beers he was holding closer to his chest. "It's just… every time I was going to, I got scared that maybe they wouldn't come if I told him and," the brunet rambled, whilst stepping back from an increasingly irate Naruto, "I was going to tell them before they came in the house, I swear."
Naruto put a hand over his eyes in a desperate attempt not to clench it and clock Kiba in the chin. Here he had been worrying about Sasuke being in some sort of accident, calming himself with thoughts that Gaara's plane was probably delayed and Sasuke's phone was dead. Wondering if maybe he should call Itachi to hear if he knew something.
"Sasuke doesn't know?" He bellowed, his hand slipping down to form a fist despite his attempts not to.
"Of course he knows," Shikamaru interjected, drawing both of their attention
"What?" Naruto felt a bit lopsided.
"They should have been here two hours ago," Shikamaru clarified, "clearly, they aren't coming, and obviously that means that Sasuke knows."
-X-
February, 2011: The office of Hyuuga Neji, as seen through the eyes of a cranky, unsociable realist.
Gaara knew the moment he stepped through the door that something was off. Over the course of the past few months, Neji and him had built a sort of understanding. A mutual sense of respect, despite Gaara being a pest and Neji being persistently nosy. Today, however, Neji seemed more of a disappointed authority than Gaara had ever experienced before. He sat down, eyeing the brunet with a sense of dread.
"Good afternoon," Neji greeted him, but his voice was cold. Gaara nodded mutely.
An oppressive silence gripped the room, sticking onto every surface like a greyish phlegm. Neji sighed.
"Gaara," he started, his voice neutral, "I feel we need to speak about this Saturday." The redhead was confused, to say the least. Saturday was the exhibition, but nothing interesting had really happened there, had it? He shifted in his seat.
"When you said that you were considering finding a boyfriend," Neji pressed on, "you said that you did not have anyone in mind. Was that true?"
Gaara felt like there was something important that he was missing, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Why would his spontaneous comment about getting a boyfriend have anything to do with the exhibition? Unable to make sense of it, he fell back on an old, useful tactic: say nothing to avoid saying something stupid or potentially damaging.
"Gaara," Neji said gravely, "I want you to be completely honest with me," he paused, "are you involved with Uchiha Itachi?"
For a moment, Gaara thought he would have a laughing fit, but it passed quite quickly. The pieces started to arrange themselves in his head, though to him the evidence were far from as damning as Neji made them out to be. He leant back in his chair, observing Neji closely. What interested him wasn't why Neji would arrive at such a ridiculous conclusion, but why he would be so obviously perturbed by it.
"Would that be a problem?" He asked smoothly. Neji's eyes widened, apparently taking Gaara's words for affirmation. His expression tightened.
"Gaara, I don't know how you met him, but I can tell you with certainty that he is not a good man."
'You're telling me,' Gaara thought sardonically, 'The man is friends with my sister, and that is its own blaring warning sign.'
"Your point?" He inquired. Neji's fingers twitched slightly.
"My point is that I-," he stopped abruptly, "that you should stay away from people like him." Gaara's eyebrows shot up.
"People like him?" Neji closed his eyes, clearly frustrated.
"Bad people," he explained.
"Why?" Gaara countered, just for the hell of it.
"Because," Neji shot back, "they will hurt you."
Gaara stared at him, shocked. This whole conversation had taken a turn he had never even imagined. In fact, this entire relationship had taken a turn somewhere along the way and he didn't quite know where they stood anymore.
How had that even happened anyway? One moment Neji was his enemy and all was right with the world, and the next he's making small talk with the man at exhibitions and feeling neglected when he wasn't noticed enough.
The whole world seemed to teeter. Incensed at feeling so unravelled, he reached for the one thing that always helped. Cold analytics. He closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts into neat patterns and then opened them again. It was surprisingly easy to take back the control he had lost a good while ago; the process of doing so had started the moment he stepped into the room. He looked over at Neji with cold eyes. Control was easy, he remembered, after all; he had learned to face his enemies a long time ago.
'Except,' the newly returned voice of reason in his mind stated, 'he's not your enemy, is he?' It wasn't the first time Gaara had wished he could punch the voices in his head. He sometimes thought of them as the Gaara to his Sasuke; infuriating, but mostly correct. He considered this new idea; but if Neji wasn't the enemy then what was he?
He reviewed his behaviour over the past months: outbursts, pining, moping around and a general lack of control over himself and his relations with Neji. It did seem to point in a certain direction.
'Though not one I'm fond of,' he muttered internally. Neji was looking straight at him still, waiting for some recognition that he had heard him. Gaara gathered up his wits. 'Time to see just how deep this rabbit-hole is.'
"You seem pretty certain that Itachi would hurt me," he observed.
"I am," Neji replied tersely. Gaara tilted his head to the left.
"Is there some other reason I shouldn't be involved with him?" He queried. Neji paused for a moment.
"He's older than you."
"I'm eighteen."
"Still, there's a difference in maturity." Gaara's slowly, and deliberately, raised one eyebrow. Neji's eye twitched.
"And?"
"And," Neji's jaw clenched, "most importantly, Uchiha Itachi will use you and discard you without a second thought."
"So if it were someone else, it'd be fine?" Gaara asked slowly. Neji straightened.
"Of course."
"Like if I was dating Deidara, the sculptor from the exhibition?" He ventured, watching Neji like a hawk. Neji's expression wavered.
"Are you?" He asked harshly.
"Would that be a problem?" Gaara prodded. Neji furrowed his brow.
"He's also older than you," he began, but Gaara interrupted him:
"He's nineteen." Neji fell silent, looking like he was furiously trying to think of something.
"Here's what I'm hearing," Gaara drawled, "I'm not allowed to date Itachi, because he is a bad man, and older than me, and I'm not allowed to date Deidara because…?" Neji shook his head.
"Of course you can date Deidara." He stated, unconvincingly.
"Mm," Gaara responded, feeling the adrenaline rush he always felt before the killing blow, "see, there's still one problem," he told the brunet, "your professional role does in no way give you any authority to decide who I do or do not date." He watched as that statement hit home, Neji's lilac eyes widening in surprise and then flickering down to his desk in thought, only to refocus on his when Gaara stood up from his seat.
"In fact, that you would even try to enforce that kind of judgement on my life suggests that you were acting in another capacity than that of a therapist," he continued languidly as he walked over to stand by the desk, "now tell me, Neji," he leaned down until they were eye to eye, faces only centimetres apart, "what sort of relationship would allow you a say in someone's love life?"
For a moment, they stared at one another, completely still. Up close, Neji's eyes were endless swirling pools of purplish blue. So carefully it felt like he was doing it in slow-motion; Gaara tilted his head to the side. Neji's hand came up, lightning fast, and grabbed onto his hair, a pair of lips met his -and then, all hell broke loose.
Somehow, Neji managed to pull Gaara across to his side of the desk, eliminating any space between them. Gaara dug his fingers into Neji's auburn hair and pulled him closer. Neji didn't seem to mind as he kissed the redhead over and over, pausing only to trail kisses and bites down his neck. Gaara wrapped his legs around the older man, his nails desperately gripping at his back.
It was desperate and unrefined; teeth clashing, hands gripping and pulling. At some point, Gaara lost his shirt, and Neji's was untucked and ripped open so the buttons scattered across the floor. He could feel Neji's warm hands fumbling to open his jeans, and somewhere in his mind he knew that he should probably stop to think about this, but he didn't want to. Right then, he was so hot and hard and desperate, and he craved it, needed it. He freed one of his hands from where it had been gripping at Neji's silky hair, and relocated it to help unbutton his trousers.
Soon, there was nothing between them at all, and it felt so good. He could hear Neji's voice right by his ear, asking, and then his own voice, answering him: "yesyesyesyes". And then Neji was in him, and it was glorious; a mixture of pain and pleasure that made him bury his teeth in Neji's shoulder to stop from screaming out loud. It was fast and uncivilised; Neji finished first, closing his strong, warm hand around Gaara to bring him over the edge.
The aftermath was far less exciting. When Neji's eyes cleared for the first time since Gaara had stepped in through the door, there was an unbridled panic in them. He stepped back, staring wildly at the redhead, who calmly stooped down to pull his jeans back up. When he straightened, Neji had gotten dressed as well, though his shirt was beyond rescue, hanging open. Gaara watched as he gripped his head, staring unseeingly at the floor.
"Oh god what have I done what have I done," the words were rushed out, his voice small and helpless. For the first time, Gaara realised that Neji and Sasuke were actually quite similar. That thought brought with it a course of action; he knew how to handle Sasuke, so why not simply apply the same formula to Neji?
He walked over to the brunet, stepping over his shirt along the way, and gripped Neji's wrists firmly, staring into violet eyes.
"Calm down," he murmured, voice soft but determined. Neji's hands relaxed, and he let them fall down to hang by the brunet's side. Neji looked into his eyes, searching.
"Gaara," he whispered shakily, "I am so sorry." Gaara stared up at him, unimpressed, shook his head, and stepped in to wrap his arms around the taller man's torso.
Slowly, gently, Neji's arms closed around him, one hand creeping into Gaara's hair. They stood like that for some time, Gaara listening as Neji's breathing slowed down into a calm, regular hum. He stepped back, looking up into a far calmer pair of violet eyes.
"You didn't do anything wrong," he assured the brunet. Neji shook his head.
"But I did. As your therapist I am in a power position-"
Gaara snorted.
"Yeah, you were just oozing power and authority today, weren't you?" Neji narrowed his eyes.
"It's my fault that I let you take control like that-," he started. Gaara sighed.
"After all these months," he drawled, "I'd have thought you knew that taking that kind of responsibility for what happens with me is as pointless as it is conceited." Neji didn't look convinced.
"Listen," he said, trying to think of something that could assuage the older man, "I know that you like to think of me as a vulnerable victim," Neji's lips quirked upwards, telling Gaara that at least that wasn't true, "but you should remember that I once got into a fight with Uchiha Itachi, and I won." Neji's eyes widened and he took a step back, ending their physical contact.
"Oh god," he whispered, "I completely forgot about…"
It took Gaara a few seconds to catch on to what he was talking about, and when he did, he felt the urge to slap himself.
"About that," he let his gaze fall down to stare at his fingernails, feeling a little guilty, "I'm not actually dating Itachi. Or Deidara." He heard clothes rustling as Neji shifted. He looked up to see that Neji looked wholly unsurprised. "You already knew," he accused. Neji smiled drily:
"I deduced as much," he paused, before conceding: "eventually." Gaara couldn't even muster up some irritation at that, he was mostly relieved at not having to spend half an hour convincing Neji that he wasn't in fact diddling his best friend's brother.
"Which begs the question," Neji continued, crossing his arms, "how do you know him?" Gaara was momentarily distracted by Neji's flexing muscles, and came to realise that this whole sex thing might put a damper on his ordinarily sharp mind.
"How do you know him?" He retorted. Neji looked thoroughly amused.
"The Uchihas and the Hyuugas are both part of the same social circles," he explained, as if Gaara didn't know that already, "If I'm lucky, I only run into him a few times a year, but even then… he rubs me the wrong way," Neji's eyes turned cold, "he likes playing with people."
"Mm," Gaara hummed in agreement, "he always was a bit of a psychopath."
"And you would know that because?" Neji implored. Gaara gave him a sharp smile.
"Remember that ally I have?"
"Oh please dear god," Neji said suspiciously, "tell me it's not him." Gaara laughed.
"No," he admitted, watching Neji relax, "it's his little brother." He watched as Neji's features morphed into surprised interest at that entirely new piece of information.
"And have you actually won a fight with him?" he asked.
"Several," Gaara affirmed, "though a lot of them were when we were kids." Neji watched him curiously.
"I don't think I have ever seen someone win a fight with Itachi," he mused, watching Gaara like he was some strange puzzle where none of the pieces where even slightly alike. Gaara shrugged.
"I told you, I'm not exactly brittle," he remarked dryly. Immediately, Neji became serious again. He stepped forward, and pulled Gaara into his chest, strong arms circling him. A soft kiss was placed on top of his head.
"Nevertheless," Neji murmured, "this can't happen again."
"Mm," Gaara hummed into his chest, "we'll see about that."
-X-
April 25th, 2014: The Hyuuga Clan's Cabin.
Time: 22:38
"Alright, I need to get to Sasuke now," Naruto announced, glaring at Kiba, who at least had the decency to look contrite.
"Yeah… yeah of course," Kiba replied hurriedly, "You can take my car… only…", he faltered.
"Only what?" Naruto thundered.
"Only none of us can drive," Shikamaru explained.
"Yeah…", Kiba agreed, the bastard.
"Well then fix it," Naruto hissed at him. Kiba glanced around the kitchen, as if expecting the designated driver fairy to pop out of cupboard.
"How?" He asked, and normally Naruto would be placated by his best friend's demure tone, but not tonight. He levelled the brunet with an icy stare he had learned from Sasuke.
"You fuck it. You fix it." He growled.
Kiba looked like he was in a horror film, and not in the good part at the start where everyone is happily unaware of their imminent deaths. He glanced at Naruto, who had taken up post leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glaring. Apparently, he looked sufficiently dangerous, because Kiba seemed to steel himself and, only slightly shivering, turned to face their little gathering.
"Uhm," he started, proving once more why he got a D in public speaking, "guys?"
The group fell silent.
"What's going on?" Sai inquired, his normally searching gaze now markedly unfocussed.
"Uhm," Kiba repeated, "well, uh, Naruto," he glanced at the blond again, "needs to get back to the city. So… is anyone sober enough to drive?"
Sai giggled. Shino, Lee and Chouji looked at the future groom with palpable confusion. Neji was making a convincing impersonation of Sasuke; one eyebrow raised.
"Oh," said Chouji, face suddenly morphing into one of understanding, "are you picking up Sasuke?" Kiba seemed stunned.
"Uh… yeah?" He replied. Shikamaru sighed from over by the sofa where he had been watching this train-wreck of a conversation unfold. Kiba eyes shifted to him for a moment.
"I mean," the brunet tried again, "Naruto needs to get into town to see Sasuke, like, right now. Because… well, it's complicated. Point is, are any of you sober?" He looked imploringly at them, obviously expecting the answer they all knew were coming: no, of course no one is sober; this is a stag-do you idiot.
"I am," a cool collected voice announced. Naruto's gaze flickered over to Neji. Seriously? Hyuuga fucking Neji would be the hero of the day? Kiba looked even more dumbfounded than Naruto felt, peering disbelievingly at Neji across the room.
"Really?" Kiba's face regained some colour for the first time since Shikamaru walked into the kitchen, probably at the prospect of taking out two frightening birds with one car. Feeling quite finished with Kiba's unimpressive negotiating skills, Naruto stepped forward.
"Could you take me into the city?" He asked, looking straight into Neji's eyes. Neji nodded:
"Certainly."
For the first time ever, Naruto entertained the thought that maybe, maybe, Neji wasn't such a bad guy after all.
-X-
April, 2011: The house of horrors; Gaara's room.
The clock on the wall showed 03:43 AM and Gaara lay, sprawled out on his bedroom floor, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling. Things were complicated.
He had a nagging feeling that life hadn't always been this befuddling, but he couldn't quite remember how that felt. Instead, he kept getting stuck on things in his head.
The Adonis boyfriend that Sasuke had tripped over a few weeks back didn't seem to be this complicated.
'He also isn't Sasuke's therapist,' said his annoyingly rational inner voice.
'Shut up,' he told it, feeling spiteful.
Sadly, he was starting to realise himself that what he and Neji were doing was anything but healthy. They would carry on as usual, pretending to be perfectly average people, have their meetings where Neji badgered him about his feelings and Gaara maintained he didn't have any, and Gaara would meet with Sasuke, do his homework, avoid his father. And at the same time, he would knock on Neji's apartment-door at night and it would open to a completely different reality, where no one else even existed.
He would have been perfectly fine with that, barring Neji's moments of self-deprecation (something about ethics or whatever), except now, the secret world was bleeding into his real one. Or maybe it was the other way around?
Wherever he went, whatever he did, Neji seemed to be hovering right on the edges of his thoughts, like a persistent fly. He didn't mind daydreaming about sex -because honestly, who did? -but this was different. Secret Neji kept popping up at the most inconvenient times. He would be talking to Sasuke, a without a warning, Neji smiling down at him in bed would emerge on the big screen in his mind and render him positively useless.
Thankfully, Sasuke spent most of his time watching his own mind-theatre and hadn't really seemed to notice. Though Gaara suspected he had some inkling, but left it well alone like the champ of a best friend he was.
He sighed into the empty room.
'Ugh. Who is this moping loser?' he chided himself, 'enough of this.'
With the willpower of a thousand Greek soldiers, he got up and found his phone.
You up? He typed in and pressed 'send'. After a few minutes his phone buzzed.
No.
He smiled.
Can I come over? He replied.
A minute. His phone buzzed.
If you must
Feeling better already, he slipped the phone into his pocket and headed over to Sasuke's house. He let himself in, trusting that only Sasuke was home anyway, and sneaked up the familiar stairs and into his best friend's room. Sasuke glared at him through one, half-closed eye, the other part of his face buried in the pillow. Gaara sent him an apologetic look and tip-toed over to the dresser to pull out some spare pyjamas. A few minutes later, he lay burrowed down under the extra duvet, listening to Sasuke's rhythmic breathing. Gaara closed his eyes and, finally, felt sleep was within his reach.
-X-
April 25th, 2014: Neji's car.
Time: 22:57.
"So, do you want to tell me what all of this is about?" Neji asked evenly, gaze still on the road in front of them. Naruto blamed the alcohol for realising only just at that moment who exactly he was embarking on this adventure with. He stared ahead, mulling over his answer. He highly doubted that Neji would buy some half-baked excuse, the man was a prodigy after all. Telling the truth, however, might end with Naruto alone by the side of the road halfway up a mountain, which didn't really seem like a good option either.
"There was a… misunderstanding," was what he finally chose to say, "due to lacking communication-skills."
"A misunderstanding?" Neji queried, voice still calm and neutral.
"Yeah," Naruto affirmed. Mostly because he couldn't think of anything else to say. Neji was quiet for a while, and Naruto took the opportunity to focus on the road -or at least the small piece of it that the headlights were illuminating in an otherwise pitch-black world -in an attempt to quell his slight nausea.
"It must be some misunderstanding," Neji commented at last. Naruto sent him a look.
"Nothing major," he replied, convincing no one. Neji's lips quirked into what could as easily be a smirk as a smile.
"Major enough to make you leave your best friend's stag do," he noted, "and since I didn't see your car by the cabin, I can only assume that Sasuke has it, and that he could have easily driven up to see you." Naruto wanted to punch Neji's stupid face in, the way that Sasuke had done two years ago. Neji looked over at him, looking surprisingly considerate.
"Naruto," he said solemnly, "I will not force you to speak about it," he paused, "but, if you want to, I will listen."
Naruto didn't quite know to feel. He had always known Neji to be kind of a prick, and this entire evening was starting to make him question whether Neji was being possessed.
'Then again,' he mused, looking over at the brunet, 'he is a psychologist.' That fact had been somewhat of a paradox to him over the years, but now he could -for the first time -see how the man and the profession went together.
'Well,' he thought, 'it's not like he won't figure it out anyway.'
"Kiba were supposed to tell Sasuke that you were coming tonight, and he didn't," he explained, "so Sasuke is mad." Mad was probably understatement of the year, but 'Sasuke's going to kill me and dance on my corpse' sounded excessively dramatic.
"I do not understand," Neji told him, eyes still on the road, "I know Sasuke and I don't exactly get along, but this seems uncharacteristically melodramatic."
And that was it, really. There was no explaining this story without using all the pieces. Naruto steeled himself, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.
"Kiba invited Gaara," he admitted.
The silence that followed was very different from the previous ones; colder, tenser and far less understanding.
"I see," Neji remarked eventually, his voice slightly strained. Naruto looked over at him. His face seemed less relaxed too.
"Look, Neji…", he started, "We should have told you." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." Neji nodded stiffly.
"Sasuke was upset that you would try to lure his best friend there under false circumstances," he concluded. Naruto nodded.
"Just to make this clear," Neji said quietly, "we are driving to town to find Sasuke so you can make up," he looked over at Naruto, "and that means seeing… someone else as well."
Naruto didn't know how to answer that. That afternoon he had been feeling like the best person in the world. Now, he was starting to wonder whether he might be the worst.
-X-
May, 2011: Otogakure.
Gaara felt like he was walking around in a mist of sedatives; numb, incoherent and half-blind. He didn't remember leaving Neji's office yesterday, nor coming home. He just remembered Neji telling him that they should stop seeing each-other completely. In and out of the office. A clean cut straight through his defences.
He stared into his cup of coffee, wishing Sasuke would show up. Somehow, he knew, Sasuke would make it better. When his friend finally slid down onto the seat next to him, he had an inkling that maybe, Sasuke's life wasn't all peaches and rainbows at the moment either. His friend looked desolate, lost and very small. Gaara didn't like it one bit.
"I haven't seen the two of you look like that for years," Orochimaru remarked, "it seems like two good stories untold." Gaara glanced up at him. Strangely, Orochimaru's presence comforted him. He was another ally, one Neji knew nothing about. He felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he had talked about Sasuke, something he swore he would never do in therapy. Glancing at this friend, he noted that it looked like Sasuke was over his head all on his own at the moment, no extra fuck-ups required.
"You first," he told his best friend, in a voice that sounded entirely unlike him.
It took some time, but Sasuke eventually managed to lay out his problems, the boyfriend and the friends, the lies and the misunderstandings, all built upon a foundation as old as Sasuke himself: self-doubt. Gaara had a hard time understanding how people could miss the fact that Sasuke was plagued by diminutive self-esteem, fear of failure and a firm belief that he was never good enough. Now, he saw old ghosts come alive again, as the shadow of Itachi tried to swallow his best friend into darkness. He firmly believed that Sasuke would emerge victorious from this particular battle, but it hurt to see him suffer nonetheless.
As Sasuke finished up his tale, Gaara downed a large swallow from his cup, and considered how distil the important points of his problem into a comprehensible narrative.
"About seven months ago," he started, "My psychologist retired, and his successor adopted my case." That was the beginning of it. Now all he needed was to convey a middle, and an end.
"Little more than three months ago," he went on, "I slept with him." Even telling the story, he felt numb.
"Continue," Orochimaru encouraged softly, refilling his cup. Gaara shrugged.
"These last few months he's been struggling with the patient-doctor dilemma or whatever and yesterday he… ended it," Gaara paused, it felt strange, saying it out loud, "He's relinquishing my case and said it's better if we never see each other again," he continued, "He's quite new, only 24 years old, and has a lot of reputation and stuff at stake…," he sipped his coffee, "only problem seems to be that I…," he faltered, glancing at Sasuke, trying to amass the courage to admit this final piece of the story -the one he hadn't even told himself, "…seem to have fallen in love with him."
Having finished his tale, he watched cautiously for Sasuke's reaction. He honestly didn't know what to expect; disapproval? Disgust? He caught snippets of raw emotion as they danced across Sasuke's features: sadness, he was sure he identified correctly. Soon, however, they melted away and, in their place, a singular, fully-formed emotion burst forth. Frozen fury solidified in Sasuke's dark eyes, a voiceless promise of painful death.
Gaara knew that look. It was the same one Sasuke had had when he stepped between Gaara and his father. Twelve years old, Sasuke had stared into the eyes of the Sabaku patriarch with icy rage in his features and a vow of vengeance on his tongue.
Those were the eyes he was looking into now; eyes that could make a strong man shiver, and a confident one surrender. To anyone else, that rage would be terrifying, but to Gaara, it was the most precious thing he had. Someone who would fight for him, no matter the consequences, no matter the circumstances, no matter the cost. Fight for him. That fiery rage was what had kept him warm through many cold and lonely nights, had lit up his road when he was lost.
Seeing it burn in Sasuke's eyes, just as clear and strong and unconditional as it had been six years ago, made him feel like himself again. Which was exactly why he told his best friend to do nothing. That fire reminded him that he was never alone in the dark, and it uncovered an old truth, one that had seen him through many worse things than this; an undisputable fact that he carried as both an armour and a sword:
'My allies are better than yours.'
Even as Orochimaru warned him to keep his options open, to not get fixated on revenge, he could still feel the fire burning in his chest, brighter by the minute.
'My allies are better than yours.'
'My allies are better than yours.'
'My allies are better than yours, Hyuuga Neji.'
-X-
April 25th, 2014: Otogakure.
Time: 20:43.
"Shouldn't you check your phone?" Gaara asked him, taking a sip of his fourth cup of coffee. Sasuke raised an eyebrow.
"I turned it off," he replied offhandedly. The redhead looked amused.
"Isn't he going to worry?" he queried, his voice just this side of mocking. Naruto's worrying, emotional side had a tendency to befuddle Gaara, much like it had Sasuke initially. Sasuke shrugged.
"Worst case scenario, he spends the whole evening worrying that I got into an accident," he stated neutrally. Gaara raised his eyebrows, smirking.
"And best case?" He prodded.
"Best case scenario," Sasuke said, mimicking his best friend's smirk, "he gets so worried he calls Itachi." Gaara laughed.
"You really are royally pissed off, aren't you?" He commented, every bit as smug about it as Sasuke would want him to be.
"Considering how terrified he is of Itachi, I'd say somewhere between furious and caustic," Sasuke concluded, entirely unempathetic towards his boyfriend's plight.
"To be fair," Gaara said, not looking like he wanted to be fair at all, "Itachi probably has a bullet somewhere with Naruto's name engraved on it." Sasuke snorted.
"It wouldn't surprise me if Itachi has a weapon silo with 'the world' painted on the hatch in calligraphy," he retorted. Gaara gave him a look that was half exasperation and half amusement.
"Sasuke," he said evenly, "someday someone is going to break one of your nails, and Itachi is going to nuke them. He is the most ridiculously over-protective brother I have ever met." Sasuke glared at him. If there was one thing he certainly hadn't missed it was Gaara's incessant claims that Itachi doted on him, despite all the evidence that his brother was an arrogant, self-centred bastard.
'And besides,' Sasuke thought vehemently, 'I'm not the only focal point for Itachi's weird emotional displays.' He narrowed his eyes.
"Well at least Naruto doesn't leave the room every time Itachi comes in," 'though he does usually hover very close to me,' he added to himself. Gaara's brow furrowed.
"Who does?" He questioned. Sasuke teetered momentarily, wondering if he should just lie. Then again, Gaara would see through that faster than Shikamaru fell asleep in class.
"Hyuuga," he admitted, "ever since you left for Europe." Gaara considered this for a while.
"That's strange." He observed. Sasuke couldn't help but agree.
"I asked aniki about it," he told the redhead, "and all he would say was that Hyuuga was 'afraid of hard facts', whatever that means." Sasuke had actually spent a good amount of time trying to figure that out. Obviously, whatever his big brother had done scared Hyuuga far more than a fist to the face and a few death threats.
"Hm," Gaara voiced, looking out the window with unseeing eyes, "sounds like Itachi and I have a few things to discuss." Had Sasuke been a lesser man -or at least a man who didn't know the two as well -he would have shivered. Gaara and Itachi had always had a strange, and to Sasuke incomprehensible, relationship, based on some -to him -unknown understanding.
"Anyway," Sasuke said, deciding to steer away from the somewhat inflammatory topic of Hyuuga and Itachi, "Naruto will probably show up tomorrow when that lot is sober enough to drive." Gaara gave him a look that told Sasuke that this little segue had fooled no one.
"As long as Neji isn't with him," he shrugged. Sasuke smirked.
"That's only slightly more likely than him bringing Itachi along," he assured his friend, "Naruto would rather ride in a car with a rabid possum."
-X-
May, 2011: The May Festival.
Gaara ambled along behind the group, vaguely aware of the fact that Sasuke still hadn't told his friends about Naruto. The past few days had been a study in Sasuke's exceptional ability to create chaos by irrationally fearing even the slightest moment of doubt or failure.
Whatever, that was Sasuke's mess, he had his own problems to deal with. Primarily, how to catch a Hyuuga. In the days since his and Sasuke's heart to heart at Otogakure, he had spent a great deal of time pondering what to do. In part, he wanted to exact horrendous vengeance upon the man who hurt him (feat. Uchiha Sasuke: murder-accomplice extraordinaire), however, he also found himself considering Orochimaru's advice. Was it possible for him to emerge from this having restored some sort of relationship with Neji?
Hence, why he was trotting along the celebratory streets of Konoha, glowering at random children as they ran past. True, he had agreed to come as moral support for Sasuke -because facing people who liked you was such a difficult experience, apparently -but he was hoping that something else might be resolved as well. He knew that Neji was going, so he might run into him. Though exactly what the plan was from there, he didn't know, but Gaara had always been an excellent improviser, as Itachi could attest to after the water-balloon-war of '03.
He wasn't paying much attention to Sasuke's group of friends, instead scanning the crowds, looking for that familiar head of hair. He did, however, notice when the pink-haired one yelled out "Naruto!" like the blond was going out of style. He glanced at the group, quickly identifying that a) another group had appeared, including Sasuke's ridiculously good-looking boyfriend, b) Sasuke still hadn't told his friend's about said boyfriend, and c) this was about to get very uncomfortable, very soon.
Still searching the crowds, he could feel Sasuke going into panic-mode next to him. He snorted into his fist. At any other point in time, this would have been prime-time entertainment for him. Even more so when Mr blond and bountiful swept down to bestow Sasuke with a ridiculously theatrical kiss. He couldn't stop an amused smile from surfacing as the voices behind him turned increasingly incredulous; this was hilarious. A flash of auburn hair quickly wiped that little subplot from his mind, however, as he finally laid eyes on the man he was here to see.
Neji was standing over by the lemonade stands, stooping down to talk to someone who was hidden by the crowds. Whoever it was left, and Neji straightened up. In a few moments, he would turn -the redhead was sure of it -and spot Gaara. Time seemed to slow down as his mind kicked into action. This moment was make or break, and he didn't really have much on hand to make sure it turned in his favour… except-
Without losing sight of his target, he reached out, finding Sasuke's arm exactly where he knew it would be, and spun his best friend around to face him. Sasuke looked slightly alarmed, but Gaara really didn't have time for that right now.
"Help me out for a sec'," he conveyed softly, before kissing him. When he pulled back, his ears were roaring with the adrenaline of victory. 'Take that, Hyuuga', he cheered triumphantly.
"Well," he declared smugly, "I'm off to buy some lemonade." He was already strolling towards Neji, when Sasuke apparently woke up.
"The hell you are!" The Uchiha barked at him. "Get. Back. Here. Now." From the sounds of it, he was pretty irate. Gaara turned to face him.
"All is fair…," he quoted to his best friend, hoping to relay the necessity for what was normally a not very nice thing to do. He turned to Sasuke's boyfriend, who seemed so torn between emotions he somehow managed to look constipated. Sensing that laughing would be quite unwise in this situation, he settled for a brief overview of the facts:
"It was a ruse," he explained, "no need to overreact."
Feeling like he had done quite enough, and anxious get on with it before Neji vanished, he turned and ambled away.
The more socially apt part of him confided that he probably hadn't done enough and that Sasuke would be more than a little bit furious at him for it, but he ignored it. He had a battle to win.
With careful precision, he strolled towards the lemonade stand, decisively not looking at anyone. He knew that Neji had seen him, the only question was: would he take the bait? The answer became clear as he was paying for his lemonade, only to have a graceful, long-fingered hand reach past him to pay. Slowly, he lifted his gaze and found pools of purple fire boring into him. He smiled and tilted his head to the left. A muscle twitched in Neji's temple. He opened his mouth to greet the older man, but was interrupted.
"Not here."
And so, he was unceremoniously dragged, lemonade in hand, to a back alley behind some booths, where he stood, blinking up at what he was quickly realising was a rather angry Hyuuga Neji. He took a sip from his plastic cup, never breaking eye-contact.
"Well?" He prodded, tilting his head to the left. "What do you want?" He swore he could see Neji's whole face twitch.
"You-," Neji cut himself off, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath before opening them again. "Insufferable," he bit out.
That hurt. More than he'd like to admit. He let his gaze drop to the ground on his left.
"If you dragged me here to yell abuse at me-," he said, and then he couldn't talk anymore because he was being thoroughly kissed and hoisted up against the brick wall, his lemonade tossed aside. He wound his legs around that familiar waist, grinding his crotch into Neji's. the brunet groaned into his mouth, pushing closer.
Gaara was on fire. Every inch of his skin burning from Neji's touch, every part of him craving. Even if the police had showed up right then, he couldn't have stopped what he was doing.
"Neji," he whined, sounding every inch as desperate as he was. Neji growled. And if that wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever experienced-
"Fuck," the brunet rumbled, grinding into him, "you-," he stopped talking to bury his teeth in Gaara's neck. Gaara moaned, eyes falling shut, he loved when Neji bit him. The brunet came back up and fixed him with a stare.
"You really are impossible," he breathed. Gaara smirked at him through half-lidded eyes and reached forward to cradle Neji's face in his hands, leaning in close so he could whisper in his ear:
"Then punish me."
Neji went completely still, breathing heavily, and then Gaara was put down on the ground, wobbling slightly. He looked up into usually familiar eyes, now completely different.
"You have twenty seconds to get those jeans off," Neji informed him, "or they won't exist anymore." Gaara wasn't about to argue with that. Not right now, anyhow. In less than twenty seconds he was back against the wall, legs lifted high. He wove his hands into that lovely auburn hair and fixed Neji with his gaze.
"Please," he murmured, "just fuck me already."
Neji obliged, thrusting into him as if they only had one shag left before Armageddon, all need and desperation. It was hard and fast and magnificent, and he couldn't get enough. Every thrust felt like it might bring him over the edge, every possessive growl made him clutch his lover tighter. He was vaguely aware that he was talking, babbling the same words on a loop 'faster…harder…please…Neji…please…faster'.
When Neji came, he dug his teeth into Gaara's shoulder, and that was enough to push him over the edge. He collapsed against his lover, impressed that Neji could still carry his own weight, much less Gaara's.
"Shit," Neji mumbled in his ear, "so much for a clean break." Gaara giggled, lifting his head enough to peer into Neji's eyes.
"So what do you suggest?" He asked languidly. Neji mulled it over for a second.
"Well, firstly we get our clothes back on before we get arrested," he advised, "and then we get out of here, so I can fuck you in a proper bed, how does that sound?" Gaara smiled.
"Sounds perfect."
A/N: Well, there we are. Just one chapter left. Now, I realise that the smut in this chapter is slightly less graphic than what I usually write *takes a moment to reevaluate the decisions I've made in my life* and that's mostly because it didn't feel right for the characters or the plot at this point to delve deep into smutville.
Also, I might make some changes/ fix things in this chapter since it's very late here and I'm sure some mistakes have slipped through, if you find any, please let me know.
That's all. The last chapter will be up as soon as I have the time and energy to proof it. Until then, please do let me know what you think.
Lot's o' love,
D.o.D
