The Hero.
Sunagakure, 13th November
Year of the Tiger.
How sand didn't get everywhere in Suna, Naruto didn't know. It was everywhere, of course, that tended to be the norm when it came to deserts, but there were places that sand wasn't meant to be, such as inside houses and on toilet seats or in refrigerators and somehow the denziens of Suna had all become wizards when it came to clearing the sand from their personal spaces. For example, despite trekking through the stuff all day long, despite finding it in his sandals, his pants, his hair, his belly-button, Naruto was surprised the Gaara's bed didn't appear to harbor a single stray grain to speak of. Not one. Perhaps he was able to use his command over the element to pull it all out of his sheets before he tucked himself in, kind of like the jutsu version of shaking out a blanket; perhaps he just managed to slough it all off before he entered his chambers and the bedroom became some sort of sand-free oasis (which, to Naruto, seemed like an oxymoron of sorts). Whatever he did, Naruto would have to ask him what the secret was, because camping in the sand sucked. He'd never known so many things to chafe before; he kind of wanted to forget.
But as tempting as it was to ask immediately, as he did with almost any question on his mind, Naruto preferred to wait in silence, watching the dawn peek through the drifting layers of muslin draped over the windows, listening to the sounds of the birds outside as they greeted the morning with a cheerful, rousing chorus. Gaara lay asleep next to him, dark-rimmed eyes closed, face relaxed; his brow having currently forgotten the set of his usual, austerity. He seemed a lot younger when he slept, rounder, smoother. That solemn, almost humorless facade that he wore as Kazekage had been abandoned at the door: when he was in this room, he was himself. When he was with Naruto, he wasn't Sabaku no Gaara, nor Kazekage of the Sand, he was just Gaara.
Which, Naruto found to be unsurprisingly similar to way he acted in most situations. Honest. Pragmatic. Serious. Sometimes a little light humor slid through, sometimes a little adolescent ignorance (artfully repurposed as nubile wonder, Gaara had the kind of grace to pull that off far more seamlessly that Naruto did), but ultimately Gaara was Gaara, no matter what form he was in. That's what Naruto liked about him; no hidden surprises, no unforeseen extras. He smiled a little as he wiggled down into the sheets, gazing at his lover's face in the brewing light. After a few silent moments, Gaara's brow twitched.
"You're watching me."
"I'm not."
"Yes you are." Gaara opened one green eye like a cat. "I can feel it. I know when those fox-eyes are on me."
"Fox eyes? I don't think he's looking at you," Naruto said at length, scratching his chin. "Dunno where he's looking, actually."
"Shukaku used to look at the world through me from time to time," Gaara reflected. "I would think Kurama might be inclined to do the same."
"What, look outta my eyes? Like… binoculars or something?" Naruto blinked, then started to pale. "Wait… do you think he saw us last night? Do you think… every ti-"
"Naruto-"
"And then, when we… God, I dunno if that's even legal. I mean… it is, but still, it shouldn't be because whoa, I'm gonna be walking weird for days. But still… Do you think he'd know that? Do you think he'd care?"
"I think you have no idea when I'm messing with you," Gaara smirked. Naruto let out a growl and swiped at him, blushing heavily. "And no, I don't think Kurama has the slightest interest in what we were doing last night. He was probably asleep, dreaming about rabbits or something."
"He prefers stoats; he thinks rabbits are cute." Naruto chuckled, then laughed harder at the look of consternation on his bedmate's face. "I know. What a softie, right?"
"I think it's nice, the relationship you have with him. I wish I'd had the same with the Ichibi."
"It took time. A lotta time." Naruto yawned. "Besides, those two aren't so super different, you probably would have if you'd been able to talk to him a little more. Have you seen him since he was freed?"
"Once. Far out in the Deserts of Solitude. I brought him fruit." Gaara said, seemingly perplexed. "Fruit. After all those years clamoring for blood, turns out he likes fruit."
"What fruit?"
"Watermelon, pomegranate." Gaara thought for a moment. "Mm, definitely pomegranate. He almost begged for it, but he was a little too self-conscious. He loves figs, but he said he was to watch the amount he eats of them or he'll be spending all day digging holes."
"What?"
"Holes. Where else are you going to go in the desert?" Gaara smiled as Naruto made a face. "Heh, you really think that's strange? It isn't as though we could install public facilities out there."
"Nope, I've pooped everywhere. Don't care about that. I was just thinking about all the sand and… nevermind." Naruto propped himself up on his elbow. "I think it's cool you visit him. I should take a detour out there, see if he wants to say hello to Kurama."
"Didn't they tend to argue?" Gaara said. "Besides, I hear your Great Peace Campaign for the Shinobi Union is keeping you busy. You might not have the time."
"Ugh, can it stop now?" Naruto moaned. "Three months of constant smiling and posing and I think my face has frozen. I thought I worked out enough to ensure my entire body is totally fit and ready for anything, but my god, my mouth… I feel like my jaw is trying to wrap itself around my nose."
"Well, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch."
"Thanks." Naruto muttered, darkly. "Anyway, it'll all be over soon and I can go back to doing what I do best. Ninja-ing and stuff. Kakashi says he's already got a few missions lined up for Team 7 when I get back."
"You're going on the road, immediately after the campaign?" Gaara offered him a sympathetic look, but Naruto waved it away.
"Nah, I don't mind - it's not far. Several of them are in Yu no Kuni - helping the Allied do some surveying around the geysers. There've been a few explosions since the earthquake and they just wanna get things settling back down. I'm not really the best at water-style, but you know… Land of Hot Springs? I'm not complaining."
"Well, you put in a lot of work, advertising the success of the Shinobi Union," Gaara nodded. "Visiting the remaining hidden villages, extending gratitude to the Kages-"
"And a little extra gratitude to my favourite Kages." Naruto grinned. "By that, I mean you. And you know… all the shag-"
"Your ability to euphemize does work; you don't need to elaborate." Gaara told him. He rolled up, letting the blankets cascade down his body as he stretched. The fox watched hungrily, moving closer, but Gaara shook his head. "And I enjoy our trysts. But you must understand, that's all they are."
"What, you mean like… we're not boyfriends?" Naruto frowned a little. "Yeah, I know that. It's ok, right?"
"Of course. And I hope to see you again. Many times until we find that this arrangement either goes further, or we drift towards someone else, exclusively. I hope you have other partners. There's a lot you have to give, Naruto. I don't think it's fair to claim all of it myself."
"I might be wrong, but isn't that what a relationship kinda….is?"
"Naruto, we're not in a relationship. Not the way that you think." Gaara added quickly, as Naruto balked. "We talked about this many times, remember; we agreed that it was best to keep things open, see other people, experiment. But that we also had each other to come back to as well."
"Yeah I know." Naruto mumbled. He watched as Gaara slid out of bed, padding toward the window - his pale, creamy skin tinted gold by the morning light. He was as he always was: still much shorter than his lover, slight, his red hair curling a little, mussed by sleep. A new feature of the seemingly unchanging Kazekage, apart from a rather unnoteworthy growth spurt which added a mere inch and a half to his stature, was the addition of a large, intricate tattoo which began at the base of his spine and curled up his back - a beautiful illustration of the nine tailed beasts leaping animatedly within an incredibly detailed artist's' depiction of the countries of the world. Gaara had wanted to balance his learning of physical pleasure, with a new respect for physical pain, and had enlisted the best tattoo artist in Suna to create "something which celebrates the unique foundation by which peace was attained in the ninja world." Temari told him he ought to have gotten a unicorn.
The body art was well received, however, first by Gaara, who gave himself entirely to the skillful artisan and used the time and the pain to grow accustomed and respectful to the feeling of it. Suna just seemed to appreciate the fact that it make their Kazekage even cooler. Killer Bee began calling Gaara "One Bad Ass Lookin' Sunnavabitch", and A rather grudgingly approved. Onoki thought it was audacious, yet impressive, though he was quick to point out that Deidara would have done a better job. Gaara agreed, though he also noted that he probably wouldn't have wanted to explode once the piece was finished.
"And you know as well as I," Gaara continued, quietly. "That I am not the one you really want."
Naruto was quiet then, and his good humour dropped almost as fast as the words left Gaara's mouth. Blue eyes glanced over the pillow, the empty sheets, suddenly cold.
"We don't talk about that one," he replied, sullenly. Gaara smiled, turning back to face his lover, regarding him for a few moments before he made his way back to the bed.
"We don't have to talk at all."
Sasuke sneezed once, loudly as he perched on the river's edge, one foot dangling in the water while he scrubbed his kimono clean, using the sap from the wild gourd fruit as a natural soap. It wasn't as good as laundry detergent, but it was easy to find and had a sharp, earthy smell that tended to detract from the nose of his own sweat and Mikoto's many outgoings.
He cast a glance at the fishing lines by his knee, ensuring to give each one an experimental tug for the benefit of his riverside companion, who had promised a fish from his catch if Sasuke minded the lines while he rushed into the trees to "give nature a call". It was a generous offer - enough that Sasuke felt a little wary - but his worries were put to rest when the man shot away, barely glancing at him before dashing into the bushes. He wondered if perhaps he shouldn't accept the fish after all.
But the cleaning was done now, and all he had to do was wait until his clothes and the nappies dried and he could be on his way again. The couple at his last residence - an elderly cheesemaker and his wife who lived on a small farm at the base of the mountains - had been kind enough to gift him a good wad of absorbent muslin for Mikoto's diapers, and a warm, heavy kimono that would help keep the both of them warm. It was old, worn, but still as beautiful as must have been the day it had been bought. Sasuke had been taught by Fugaku on how to appreciate a quality kimono, and he'd been sure to turn the collar over when he was presented with the outfit, expressing his gratitude and awe at the quality of the dye, which could still be seen close to the stitching where the lining joined the fabric. It was a respectful thing to do, but Sasuke was a little surprised when the woman smiled at him, tearfully, and explained that it was her late daughter's work. She was happy it was going with him.
The cheesecloth was far superior to the rags Sasuke had been using to clothe his daughter, and when washed, would dry within half an hour in the sun. This expedience bought him the advantage of time and he found himself worrying less about Mikoto when he knew she was dry and comfortable. There was still a great deal of things to worry about, of course, but a damp, unhappy baby wasn't one of them.
The line at his knee twitched, but there were no bites yet. Sasuke sighed as he remembered the way he'd been able to fish in the past: one quick katon, and the river simply offered up handfuls of trout, no question. But now, with no katon, no Chidori, nothing, he was back to lines and patience. It made him wonder what kind of job he might have to acquire later on when he would need more to support himself and his daughter than just milk and muslin. It would have to be something solitary; something he was able to perform without too many people watching him. If possible, something that allowed him to bring Mikoto with him as well as there was no leaving her behind, not with strangers.
Sasuke ran his fingers through his hair as he pondered, letting Mikoto grip his finger and pull it toward her mouth, gurgling. He wouldn't have to worry about it yet, but it would be something to consider along the way. A job. A real job, not just the occasional domestic slave labor he used to perform as a genin. Real work. Real paychecks. And a real problem, because apart from being a top-class ninja, what on earth could he do?
A/N: Naruto says he isn't funny looking, but he will settle for "interestingly rougish"
Sasuke says he's asking enough already with "interesting".
