Inside the car, all was silent. Until Naruto turned the radio on. Gaara held back a sigh drenched with frustration and let Naruto have his own way for once. He longed for his motorbike, and the blessed roaring wind that would no doubt have shut out Naruto's loud and incessant singing and the bad taste in music that accompanied it.

He didn't mind so much though, as he was well used to his blond friends' antics and cute little singing noises. He settled into driving the beautiful silver Lotus Elise and thought about nothing more complicated that what Naruto was going to whip up for them for dinner tonight. Then he changed his mind that this was not a complicated thing to think about: Naruto, cooking? That was the most complicated thing that anybody could ever think about. Sure, the little runt could cook very well but it was the matter of the unhealthy things that he chose to cook.

Miso Ramen was a sort of back up plan for Naruto. If Gaara wouldn't cook anything, and he couldn't be bothered, Naruto would eat Ramen. If Naruto was watching a sad or romantic movie, he would eat Ramen. If Gaara was out, Ramen. If Gaara told him to go away, Ramen. If Gaara said something mean, Ramen. If Gaara did anything negative towards Naruto at all, the little blond would eat Ramen. Gaara realised that Naruto's eating habits revolved entirely around himself, and was more than a little shocked to discover that indeed, the blonds' entire life revolved around him.

Why did his sunny young friend care for him so much? He was cold, selfish and broken. The only time that Gaara ever truly expressed himself was when he and Naruto were making love, and that didn't happen so often that it was a common thing. In fact, Gaara wished that it would happen more often. When they made love, the entire world seemed to shudder in delight. Well, Gaara's entire world anyway. Seeing that look of complete rapture on Naruto's face always drove Gaara over the edge long before he had even thought about release until spotting that look.

When Naruto brushed his hand in a friendly gesture across one of Gaara's on the steering wheel and flashed him such a look of complete adoration, Gaara felt kind of strange. Why was his breath growing so erratic?

Look at the road, damnit! Look at the fucking road!

His thoughts were consumed with images of Naruto making love to him, being made love to in return, smiling, laughing, crying in his arms, snuggling against him, whispering dirty things into his ear right before the moment of climax, poking him in the arm, annoying him, eating ramen, sleeping peacefully, waking from a nightmare to be held shivering in his arms, holding Gaara as he himself woke crying, playing childish games, watching anime, staring at him with that very look filled with adoration, with longing and lust, with friendship and joy, with comfort and the ever present love for Gaara that the red-head was beginning to realise was not entirely platonic.

And as all thoughts about Neji faded, turned into thoughts about Naruto, Gaara realised that his friendly love for Naruto was not at all platonic either.

What is happening to me?!

--

Naruto first realised that something was amiss with his dearest friend when Gaara froze as he lightly touched one of the marble-like hands resting gently against the steering wheel. He brushed it off as being a memory of Neji, and continued to sing. The music was very loud, drowning out all the worries that Naruto may have had had it been low enough to concentrate on the way that Gaara's hands were shaking as they clenched the wheel so tightly.

He looked out the window, reflecting upon their fake engagement. How he wished that it wasn't all just a farce. His romantic feelings towards Gaara were growing increasingly difficult to contain, and he feared that his secret desire for Gaara to be entirely his, to be his not only in the bedroom but everywhere and in everything they did together or apart, was going to become glaringly obvious to the broken hearted native to Suna very, very soon.

Gaara was very suspicious at the worst of times, and extremely perceptive at the best. Surely he would notice the shaking in the blonde's hands as they slept next to one another, the slight blushes on his cheeks whenever their hands brushed together, the thrill of exultation that ran like shivers through his tanned body whenever their eyes met, he frequency in which they had been having sex lately, at Naruto's request. Or maybe, hopefully, he would remain blissfully unaware, happy and content with a friendship that would never satisfy the blond, but would keep his friend happy.

And then he remembered the way the red-head had frozen shortly before. What had that entailed to? Had Gaara already guessed? Was he beginning to freak out even now? Was he contemplating pulling over and chucking Naruto out of the car in disgust, wanting to break the whole fake engagement off?

But no.

What reason could he possibly have to be disgusted of Naruto? They were best friends. They were family. Of a sort. Gaara loved him, Naruto was sure of it. Just not in the way that Naruto loved Gaara. Wish as much as he would (And Naruto really had wished a whole lot) that Gaara could somehow return his feelings, his fevered lust, his want, his need…it would never happen. Naruto wasn't dense, he knew that not everything turned out fine in the end. He was content with being just friends.

He was.

Really.

But…what if…What about Gaara's little freeze before, as Naruto had touched his hand? Maybe the red-head wasn't freaking out as such, maybe he was actually feeling the same way!

I'm kidding myself, Naruto slumped in his seat, knowing that even if he pretended to be cheerful, Gaara would no doubt see through the act as he always had, I'm just hoping. It's stupid.

"What's stupid?" Gaara startled Naruto out of his reverie, and the blond realised that he must have said the last thing out loud, "Are you calling me stupid? Naruto, you should really know better than that."

When Naruto didn't answer (he was too shocked), Gaara sighed, and changed the subject. Naruto was well used to it. Gaara seemed to sigh a lot. If only he would sigh Naruto's name…

"Will you be cooking tonight? I'd…like…to try your…cooking."

Naruto laughed, "You'd do that to yourself?"

Though Gaara remained silent, staring ever ahead, Naruto was able to tell –easily- that his friend was trying very hard not to roll his eyes.

"Oh, come on," Naruto snorted when Gaara didn't bother answering, "Like you could possibly offer me that without wanting something in return. Badly. Very badly, if you'd let me poison you with home made ramen. With leeks. You don't like leeks."

"I don't recall telling you that." Was his only reply.

Naruto sighed, looked out the window. "You didn't have to, ya damn idiotic…idiot."

Gaara raised what would have been an eyebrow if he'd had any, "I didn't have to say? So you just…magically knew. Somehow."

Naruto sighed again, wondering how he was going to refrain from pouncing on the jade-eyed Suna native, and sighed once more before he bothered speaking. "…Gaara. Seriously. We've been friends for…forever, and you think I haven't figured out-of all things- that you don't like leeks? Like hell, moron! You think I wouldn't notice? Ha! Like I didn't notice when you almost murdered that waiter for giving you leek soup instead of lentil! Or, when we pass that vegetable patch on the way to the milk bar, and you always look at it with disgust because its got a whole patch of leeks?"

"I don't hate them…" Gaara replied, "I just don't like them. A lot."

"Gaara."

"Okay, at all."

Smiling self-satisfactorily, Naruto leant his head on his hand, and continued looking out the window, watching not the scenery go by, but the reflection on the window of Gaara's porcelain face.

--

They arrived home shortly after the…leek discussion. The house was dark, empty. Ominous. Gaara was glad that he now had his dearest friend with whom he could share it with. Said blond was currently getting out of the car, and Gaara couldn't help but notice that Naruto looked less cheerful that he usually did. There was something…sombre about him. Something that made Gaara very, very worried.

As soon as the red-head had looked up, however, Naruto reverted back to his normal, cheery self. Except it was a fake, normal, cheery Naruto. And Gaara didn't want to interfere. Whatever it was that was bugging the usually bouncy young man, Naruto would tell him sooner or later. And Gaara would deal with whatever it was then. That didn't mean, however, that the usually stoic red-head wouldn't worry his ass of about it. Silently.

He continued his thoughts in a huffed state as he made dinner (Naruto didn't feel like making it that night), and didn't see Naruto until he had called him to eat. The blond had retreated into their room with a small "see you at dinner!" that sounded too merry to be real.

Sighing, he turned the heat off, served the soup into two bowls and called Naruto out of the room.

Dinner was eaten in silence. Naruto went to their room to bed early. In silence. Gaara watched some television. In silence. When he retreated to their room late at night, it was, predictably, in silence.

Used to Naruto's usually very noisy, tossing, mumbling was of sleeping, Gaara was not accustomed to the quiet unmoving version. Something must be very wrong indeed. And Gaara was going to find out. Not silently.

---

Naruto hummed to himself as he pulled his jumper over his head. Hair still damp from a long, hot shower, he padded into the kitchen to find a not-so-cheery Gaara fuming silently (ironically) over a cup of tea. Unfazed by his friend's sudden and by now well accustomed to, vicarious mood swings, Naruto plopped down beside the redhead, and grinned stupidly at him.

"What's for breakfast then, husband?" Naruto sidled up to Gaara, sliding his chair over the floor with a loud screech, "Be nice if it was you!"

Gaara looked over at Naruto blankly, still grumpy at Naruto's strange behaviour from night before. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his drink, and looked up with lidded eyes, "Nothing. Make it yourself."

Slightly affronted, Naruto swiped a hand through his still damp hair in a nervous gesture, scowled a little, pushed his chair back in a huff of his own, and stalked out of the room. Gaara took another sip of tea, and turned his attention to the wall in front of him.

Meanwhile, Naruto had walked briskly to the bathroom, snatched his body spray from the vanity and proceeded to spray profuse amounts into the bedroom air. Gaara had expressed his dislike for this scent a few nights before, in the way of sneezing all over Naruto's freshly washed face. Naruto thought that it was high time he pay the red-head back. Let's see him sneeze over this! All over his own things!

When the can had reached its dregs, the blond tossed it aside (making sure the leaking bottle landed on Gaara's pillow), and walked back into the kitchen, freshly positive and satisfied. Taking a packet of cereal out of the cupboard, with an exaggerated flourish and a little violent wrenching motion, Naruto began to make his own breakfast. He was a little peeved upon the realisation that Gaara hadn't been paying any attention to him.

Positively storming over to the table, he flung his bowl onto the table, effectively spilling milk everywhere, and shoved some cereal into his mouth with a spoon bent from his clenching fist. Blue eyes flashed into unresponsive green, and Naruto crunched his cereal unnecessarily aggressively. However, when Gaara's eyes focused on him, he ceased all action.

Jade eyes were now focused intently on his face, and Naruto couldn't help but shiver.

Gaara didn't say anything, didn't do anything really, except walk off. And even then, he wasn't angry about it. Just sort of…uncaring. Naruto smiled slightly. He was in the clear!

That's what he thought, until he heard his new stereo being thrown out the window.

Naruto's reaction to this?

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

--