Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Warning: adult themes
AN: Please review for this one, I need feedback on how the... romantic scenes... are received.
Chapter 10: Oblivion (word count: 1193)
Saka-machi was a ghost town.
Some decades prior, the mining village had been a thriving little place with a reputation for the quality of its marble and the exceptional sculptures crafted by the local artists. It was a point of pride that the local craftsmen had been commissioned to build the Daimyo's mansion and that their works adorned the halls of two great shinobi clans. Out of a thousand people, over a quarter had been wealthy merchants and artisans of the Traders' Guild while the rest had been well-paid - and reasonably content - miners.
But, as things are wont to pass, bandits saw the rich civilians as the perfect meal ticket and began carrying out frequent and brutal raids against the people of Saka. At first, the locals tried negotiating with the criminals but bribes lasted only until the bandits' ever-increasing greed smothered the memories of any and all written agreements. Next, the hapless commoners hired guards. These men were either killed or surrendered their morals to avarice and turned on their patrons. With the Second Shinobi War in progress, Iwa had had no warriors to spare for 'simple bodyguard duties'.
What had been built by generations of hard-working men was destroyed in less than a decade. All that remained of the once proud town were two streets of run-down houses and an inn that had seen better days.
Inside, in the darkest corner of the bar, Gaara was sipping from a large mug of watered-down spirits. His eyes stung from the smoke, his throat burned from the alcohol and he was nursing a terrible headache. Kokuo had been less than pleased by their return to civilization and had retreated to a corner of their mind, leaving Gaara to deal with the rabble of the tavern by himself. So far, he had been propositioned no less than seven times and had had to gently let down a drunk and very insistent fellow, by breaking his nose.
He briefly considered retreating to the blessed solitude of his rented room but the mug of alcohol held the vague promise of a night free from the usual nightmares. As he lowered his head to take another sip of the foul brew, he sensed yet another person coming near. This time however, to his surprise, it was one of the young servants.
'Miko-sama' the boy said in a low, quavering voice 'the men'll be getting rowdy. Please consider retiring to your chambers.'
'When I paid for the lodgings, I was told that the room had yet to be cleaned. Has the task been completed?' Gaara asked, tilting his head minutely.
'I did it myself hours ago. It's all proper now. I'll show you now if you'd like.' the young man answered and, as he made no move to leave, Gaara found himself acquiescing to his covert demand. After all, five hours free of nightmares were hardly worth being harassed by lecherous men and the servant surely knew his fellows best.
After escorting the miko, Hiroya caught himself staring at the white-haired girl, hesitant to leave. He was full of bold questions about the miko trade, about Gaara's exotic coloring and her purpose in coming to Saka.
He shouldn't have lingered. The alcohol, the heartache, the young man's own subtle beauty - and perhaps a touch of lust, of daring or madness - had led Gaara to close the door before he could leave.
The other commoners had been disgusting, Gaara mused, but there was something different about this one. Perhaps he found his shyness endearing or perhaps his body was just the right touch of small and lithe, his features soft and fresh-faced.
'So innocent', Gaara thought with a pang. '...even at his age and in a place such as this one. How long until he would grow into just another tired brute...'
There was no mistaking the curiosity on Hiroya's face, the open fascination with the beautiful woman in front of him and, from such an innocent young man, Gaara found the admiration surprisingly flattering, arousing.
Wrapping his arms around Hiroya, Gaara leaned to whisper in his ear. 'Don't leave. Tonight, I would taste a different kind of oblivion.' The boy trembled as the hot breath brushed against his ear, but turned around in the miko's embrace, accepting the unspoken request.
In the candlelight, the shadows danced on Hiroya's face, highlighting his hesitation. Keeping their gazes locked, Gaara leaned in for a kiss. Up close, Hiroya could feel the aura of tightly restrained power brushing against his skin, forceful, compelling and pure. The allure wrapped around him like velvet chains, muting his uncertainty and, when a small tongue brushed against his lips, he daringly sent his own to dance with hers.
Trailing his hands upwards, Gaara dragged Hiroya's shirt as he went. As the young man's lightly flushed frame was revealed, Gaara bit his lip to stifle a moan. The boy was gorgeous. The slender, lightly muscled chest narrowed into a flat stomach and lean hips and a thin line of soft-looking hairs followed a downward path from his belly button, to hide in his linen breeches.
Dropping his greedy gaze, Gaara lowered his mouth to the boy's neck. He placed delicate, feather-light kisses on his collarbone and slow, trailing licks that elicited tiny shivers and small, delicious whimpers. Slowly, so as not to frighten him, questing fingers glided to the trousers' drawstrings, untying them and making the garment fall by the brown shirt on the floor.
A hand wrapped tightly around heated flesh and started pumping the shaft with hard, even strokes, smearing pre-cum across the rigid length. His fingers squeezed and pulled at the straining hardness and all the while Gaara guided Hiroya towards the bed. Meanwhile, with his other hand, Gaara deftly undid the knot of his own hakama and shook them off.
A light push and he had the slightly bewildered boy on his back, reeling from the loss of the miko's touch before his gaze was inescapably drawn to the the curly mound peeking from under the shifting haori. With a slow, languid movement Gaara straddled Hiroya and, holding his gaze, guided the young man in, inch by glorious inch.
Hiroya groaned, bucking his hips at the sudden scorching tightness, his hands grabbing onto the miko's hips with a bruising grip.
'Miko-sama' he moaned, thrusting as much as the submissive position allowed. Lazily, Gaara arched his back, bending to take him even deeper. With his eyes closed and mouth open lightly in silent bliss, he steadily began riding Hiroya, clenching his warmth on each slow, upwards move and relaxing it on every brutal downwards push.
The rhythm ebbed and flowed to Gaara's own desire, but the amazing friction against his cock and the incredible sight of the priestess lost to her own gratification had Hiroya breathing erratically, his eyes glazed in pleasure, desperately close to release.
In the course of time Gaara's breathing grew labored and he shuddered, his pulsating core holding Hiroya's shaft in a vice. 'Come.' he hissed between short, harsh gasps and Hiroya spilled himself with a deep cry.
AN1: Tch, I could have ended it sooner, to keep with the 300-1000 limit, but I think it would have been cruel to leave out the final 200 words ;) I really hope the pronouns weren't too confusing. I kept the same format: female pronouns when others talk or think about Gaara, male pronouns when he talks or thinks about himself. :-s
AN2: And here it was, the final chapter of Arc I. Arc II coming up, Tetsu!