Part Two

The temperature had dropped significantly during the walk from Speakeasy and into the Inuzuka community. At this hour, they were the only people roaming about. The dirt paths leading into the widespread neighborhood were quiet, save crickets hiding in surrounding fields. Gaara's elbow brushed her as she swayed while trying not to trip over rocks in her haze of intoxication. Twice she caught herself staring at his profile. Her cheeks grew hot as she blinked and looked away before he saw her. By the time they reached her temporarily rented house, the roles were reversed. Naoko hadn't missed his glances, modest though they were. When the two stopped at the foot of her porch, Naoko sighed and rubbed her neck. She stared at his feet. Her mind drifted drunkenly.

She and five others had gone into halves together and rented the one level cabin in Konoha. Covered in kudzu, surrounded by dead trees and sprinkled with orange and brown leaves. Behind it, a backdrop of mountains and forest. None of the lights were on. She couldn't sense anyone inside. Miles away, the homecoming party was likely at an end. Her bet was that those she'd traveled with were passed out and wouldn't be home until morning.

"You know," Naoko said softly, "you didn't have to walk me home."

"Clearly you aren't able to care for yourself," Gaara bit teasingly without pause.

She blanched before they shared a daunting look. "That's not fair," she quipped, "they were using forbidden jutsu. You said so yourself," shoving him slightly, then laughing at his surprise. The sand reaching up and grabbing her ankles didn't go ignored. "Wow," she breathed, cupping her mouth and lifting a foot from his grasp. Studying him, she said, "Not the playful type?"

"Hardly," he said, releasing her legs. The sand settled back to the pathway, knocking a few rocks around.

Tucking a piece of her hair behind an ear, Naoko apologized. She hoped he wasn't insulted because she certainly hadn't meant to offend him, possibly making him leave. If anything, she was dreading the loss of company. His had been very intriguing. Maybe it was the alcohol, but Naoko didn't care. She didn't want this enigma of a man to leave her. Gaara, desert weapon, feared Kazekage, hadn't been anything she could have expected. How much of him was merely an inebriated representation didn't matter. It was Naoko's firm belief that booze mostly brought out the truth in everyone. A sloshed and sometimes sloppy, sometimes scary truth. But honesty nonetheless. Gaara wasn't sloppy or scary. Just pleasant. A nice change to the company she usually hailed from.

Steeling herself, she smiled up at him and knew maybe she was being stupid. "If you want," she started and there was no going back, "you can come in."

"I should head back," Gaara said, but he didn't move.

Naoko rolled her eyes. Before her drunken mind fired off warning signs, her hand reached out and tentatively touched Gaara's sleeve. Still he didn't move, and this time sand didn't raise to grip her legs. "Oh come on," she grouched quietly, perhaps a bit pleading. "I haven't had a good conversation in a long time," she continued, stopping herself and losing her train of thought in his intense eyes. Finally she said, "I like your company, Gaara. Please stay a little longer."

This was dangerous. Naoko, if that was in fact her name, was testing uncharted waters. And here he was, going along with. . .whatever this was. Gaara was no stranger to attraction; however, he certainly hadn't ever placed himself in such a vulnerable position with the fairer sex. Had he wanted to? Yes. He was human and had needs just like any other person. And he was not ignorant to what Naoko was attempting. With that said, her confession was true for him as well, about both conversation and company. Hers was oddly relaxing. So, despite his better sense peeking through, Gaara let Naoko lead him into the dark cabin. When she flipped on the light, Gaara winced at the brightness, made an involuntary croak in his throat.

"Sorry for the mess," she commented, stepping around him.

The living room, connected with an open-end kitchen and dining area, was littered with suitcases. Some opened, belongings spilling out onto the blue carpet. He looked over this, watched Naoko head for the kitchen. Hesitant to make himself at home, Gaara watched her from the entryway. She withdrew a small wine bottle and two glasses, kicked her shoes off before stepping back into the living room. Their eyes danced around each other curiously. Gaara's lips tugged into a small, bemused grin at her hushed laughter. She made her way to the sofa and patted the cushion beside her. Unsure, Gaara pulled his eyes away from her and looked at the door.

"Don't even think about it," Naoko laughed playfully, narrowing her eyes in his direction.

Somehow they'd gone from sitting far part on the sofa to being in the floor, knees touching and backs against the furniture. Naoko rested an elbow behind her, staring at a half empty wine glass. Plastered wasn't a strong enough word. Likely for either of them. She looked up from the glass and at his alcohol flushed face, turned slightly towards her own. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her body hummed warmly. Like a coil wound up, her pulse thumped between her legs. Before he could grab her wrist and stop her, Naoko placed her hand against Gaara's cheek. He was warm. His eyes swung down, stared at her hand. She could tell he was nervous. His quickened breathing and tense shoulders gave Gaara away. Inches from him now, she felt his breath ghost her lips and closed the gap.

His lips were dry, chapped, and tasted of sake. The kiss lasted only a brief beat before she was torn away. Confused, she frowned down at his hand on her shoulder, holding her back. At his other hand clinging defensively to her wrist, now pulled from his face. His face didn't show anger, but doubt and distrust. It occurred to her then that's she'd been presumptuous. Biased because of her own loss of innocence at a young age. He'd never done this before. It wasn't that surprising. He was barely an adult, Kage or no. Naoko wasn't sure what to say now. None of this made her want to stop; she was far too fueled by booze and lust.

They sat there facing one another, unmoving. His eyes bore into her and she lost herself wondering what was going through his mind. Would he push further from her and see himself out?

Shock and relief overcame her when the hand pressing into her shoulder lifted, traced her neck and cupped her chin. Sent a shiver down her spine and broke her out in goose flesh. Firm but not forceful he pulled her back to him, covered her mouth with is own. She moaned into the tentative kiss. And when he freed her hand, she bravely brushed her fingers into his thick hair. It was coarse, a little gritty.

If he'd never kissed someone before, the fact surprised her. His tongue pushed at hers and he gently sucked her bottom lip. When they broke apart, Naoko clung to him still, panting softly.

Was she really about to bed the Kazekage of Wind Country? It would seem so.

Sure of herself, Naoko let go of his hair and used both hands to fiddle with the buttons on Gaara's dress shirt. She shifted her body, allowing him access to her waist. His hands were hot even through her thick blouse. They laid against her sides, not shaking, just thoughtful, before Gaara tugged at the material. He untucked her shirt, thumbs stroking her stomach as he did so.

"Lift up," Gaara asked of her, hushed and breathy.

When she'd finished unbuttoning his top, she lifted her arms obediently and chewed her lips as he tossed her shirt away. She sat in her bra before him, feeling unashamed and needy. Bent forward, leaning against him, and kissed him again. Snake like, she pushed at his sleeves, bearing his torso. Both of them were slightly sweaty and so their skin stuck together as she hugged herself to him. This time, when the kiss broke, their foreheads touching, Gaara distanced her only a little. Fingers fluttering over the bend of her elbow, up her arm, he toyed with her bra strap. Then traced the swell of her breast, tickled her sternum, and popped the front clasp. The bra slid off on it's own while Naoko busied herself with the hem of Gaara's pants.

Friction burned Naoko's forehead as Gaara moved to help her get the pants and his underwear off. Their motions going by in a blur.

Naked, he was a sight to behold. Opposite her dark brown skin, his was milky and unscarred. His taut abdomen twitched as Naoko ran her hand down his body and made a move for his erect penis. He gasped when she grabbed it, and closed his bruised eyes breathing in ecstasy as she stroked him.

Naoko parted their foreheads and placed a gentle kiss on Gaara's cheek before taking his mouth into her own hungrily. He kissed her back, only messy this time, clearly near climax. She kept on, squeezing as she massaged him. And felt her lips pull back in a smile against his moaning mouth when he came into her hand.

Catching his breathing, Gaara pulled away, blushing and brow draw together. He looked apologetic. Naoko smiled, eyes lidded at him. She pressed a finger to his mouth before he could speak. She already knew what he was going to say. She'd been with a virgin before. All men had this impossible idea that they had to last even on their first try.

"You've never done this," she stated reassuringly, "That happens. It's fine." More of a whisper.

Gaara looked her over, his own eyes heavy. Whatever he was thinking, she couldn't read him. But Naoko cupped his cheek and moved forward in their act, hoping he was going to keep this going. She stood and watched him. His eyes followed her hands to the button of her shorts. She undid the button, admittedly too drunk to do so without disrupting their heated gaze to watch her own hands, focused. And let out a surprised breath when Gaara rose to his knees and brushed her hands aside. She brought her arms up, watching him and holding her stomach. He looked up at her as if assessing whether she was going along or scared. Naoko grinned at his irrational paranoia.

He hummed, grinning softly back at her before staring at her hips. Agonizingly slow, Gaara pulled her shorts to her ankles before she stepped out of them. She held to his shoulders, balancing herself and kicking the garment aside. His hands ran up her thighs, fingers hooking into the hem of her panties.

Surely she had never had a man undress her so tenderly. Sex was typically more of a sloppy, rushed act for her. Though Naoko hadn't had more than three partners, they'd all been rough and to the point. Even her last. He'd been just as new to the act as Gaara. Only he'd ended up fucking her quick and pretending it hadn't happened the next morning. They'd only been running a mission together for a few weeks, basically strangers. But yet Gaara was a stranger to her as well, and here he was, making her hot and shy like some unused schoolgirl. She chuckled, then shook her head at him when Gaara looked back up at her curiously. Silently telling him to ignore her.

"Hey," she said, weaving her fingers through his hair again, "come with me."

He stood as she pulled his arm, followed her into a bedroom down the hall.

Still wearing only her panties, Naoko sat on the bed, holding Gaara's hand. He stood in front of her and she looked up at him and kissed his fingers. Gingerly, Gaara wrapped his hand along the side of her neck. He leaned over her and laid her back, pressing his lips to her throat. He trailed over her body with his mouth and Naoko shut her eyes, wiggling her hips against him, trying to relieve the pressure between her legs. She nearly reached down and pleasured herself before finding it unnecessary. Her breath left her when Gaara's lips kissed above her sex, against the cloth of her underwear. Hard, she gripped the blankets under her in anticipation. Gaara pulled the panties from her quickly. One man had done her this service before. But his kiss against her slit had not been so careful as the Kazekage's. She moaned when Gaara's tongue pushed into her. Bucked her hips, rocking into him. Strong, Gaara held her hips and licked her. Sucked her. Dipped his tongue into her hole. With one hand Naoko held the bed, with the other she pulled his hair. Moaned his name.

But she whined when he stopped, so close to release. Opened her eyes and stared into his as Gaara placed himself over her. Dripping, Naoko lifted her legs around his waist and wrapped her hands around his back. He kissed the crook of her neck and she panted. His dick rested firmly against her thigh and without thought, Naoko let go of Gaara's back with one arm and gripped him, helped him find her entrance. She cried out quietly when he entered her. Ragged against her neck, Gaara panted. His movements were slow at first. Soon enough he gained confidence. The sex was steady and good. Naoko writhed beneath him, pulling him close as if to meld herself into his burning flesh.

When Gaara came into her, she held his hair with both hands and kissed his forehead. Holding himself up on his fists, Gaara looked down at her flushed face and captured her lips. She kissed him, still with need. For Naoko, she could never quite finish when a man penetrated her. This was always left unfinished. Perhaps all women had this conflict, their partners blissfully unaware unless told. She sighed against Gaara's cheek. How was he to know. She'd never been able to voice that fact to any of her lovers.

As he kissed her again and pulled his spent dick from her, Naoko put her arm between them and touched herself. Truthfully, she'd never forgotten herself and done that until previous partners left her side. She blamed the booze and didn't think Gaara noticed. Until his hand gripped around hers, forcing it away from her fold, not caring that her fingers rubbed both their fluids against his skin. Caught off guard, Naoko met his stare with parted lips and wide eyes. They quickly closed and she moaned. He rubbed a finger into her, circling her clit. Rocked his hand in motion with the swirl of her hips. Naoko gasped, cried out and pushed her face into his neck.

He smelled of sweat and booze. Musky.

She came hard, bucking into the orgasm that rocked her body and panted while he continued to rub her still. Buzzing and too sensitive once the release was over, Naoko grabbed for Gaara's stroking hand and forced it to stop. She touched his face when he pulled back and looked down at her. Traced the scar on his temple. Love, it said.

The couple shared no words when he rolled off and wiped his forehead. Content and happy, Naoko scooted against his side, rested a hand on Gaara's chest. She had little doubt he would be gone when she woke. Sleep took her.

Gaara stared at the ceiling, too hot for her to lay against him but too tired to tell her no. He let her fall asleep before he removed Naoko's arm and stood from her bed. Eyes tracing over her, Gaara sighed. Funny. He'd always thought this type of intimacy would never happen for him. Now that it had, he felt somehow sated. Relieved.

Naoko's soft snore filled the room and she shivered. Leaning over her, Gaara draped the comforter over her before exiting the room.

Sex and love were not necessarily related and this had definitely not been an act of love on either part. Did he care to know this girl? Possibly. Part of Gaara felt sick with how much he wanted to pick her brain. But the more sensible half of him, the now sobering half, told him to let it go. They'd been two drunk, horny strangers who would probably never cross paths again. Especially since he was leaving for Suna tomorrow and she'd obviously lied about herself. He'd known that from the moment she opened her pretty mouth.

This night. It wasn't at all like him.

Naoko had kept anything about herself shrouded in secrecy all night. Even her name was a possible lie. Though Gaara thought maybe she'd been honest about that. Not that it mattered. He could piece together at least some form of backstory based on subtle things. Her headband, now laying on the coffee table, was slashed through. Naoko was exiled. That or she had run off of her own volition. She didn't belong to the Hidden Leaf Village, but apparently Amegakure. And judging by her need to reveal nothing about herself personally, Gaara knew she was on the run. She seemed too warm spirited to be a criminal. But looks and actions were often deceiving. For all he knew, he'd just went to bed with a class A murder. Which couldn't be true. Gaara knew a thing or two about cold blooded killers. He'd been one. Whatever she was running from, whatever her true identity, Naoko was a small-time criminal at best. And judging by the state of this cabin, she was laying low.

Gaara dressed himself and exited the cabin. By all accounts, he should turn her into the Konohagakure authorities.

But he wouldn't.