Gaara wasn't fond of his heats. They were a looming dread that lingered at the back of his mind. Always there.
Usually Omegas didn't mind it - they simply stayed in bed and endured it however they wanted to, but the Kazekage didn't get such freedom.
The council sent alphas to his room when he was in heat. Some smelled okay, some scents were rather neutral and some men he never wanted to see again. They were either too rough, brutish or crass, but he doesn't get to choose them. The elders did. They always have.
Gaara wonders where they even get these alphas from, and why there are always so many . He asks before one of his heats, seated on the bed of his nesting chambers. The elder simply looks at him and answers, though it's not what Gaara expects her to tell him.
Apparently a lot of alphas want to bed the Kazekage. They volunteer.
Gaara doesn't understand why. He's not particularly enticing. But then again, he knows that most of these alphas just see him as a warm hole to stick their knot. He knows they don't give a damn who it is. Some probably like that Gaara has to accept them, and can't refuse.
He wonders if it's so normal to be so apathetic about essentially being used in such a way - by his government and the men he ultimately leads. He knows they only want him to remain Kazekage for as long as he can and leave the title to one of his children.
He doesn't think about it.
Not like it matters.
It's tradition, so he can't get out of it. His only choice is to allow whatever alpha the council sends do what they want for the night and hope they leave, and treat him well.
He just takes the small pill that the elder gives him and sips some water as she leaves with the doctors. He waits for the door to open again.
"It's been this way for centuries, right?" Gaara asks, wincing in pain and embarrassment as an attendant wipes slick and speckles of blood from his thighs. The last alpha had been unfamiliar and a bit rough. The woman is clinical and doesn't bat an eye, simply cleaning the nest and occasionally Gaara himself. He pulls his shirt back around him. The first alpha popped the buttons almost immediately. He'd have to throw it out. Gaara feels his heat just under his skin, and he wishes he was anywhere but here.
"Of course, it's always been this way." she says flippantly, "Why?"
"Did my father have to suffer this as well?" Gaara asks, frowning.
She blinks at him, "Well, no. Lord Fourth had a mate. Lady Karura. He was a special case, though."
"I see."
"No worries. One of the next alphas may be your mate! It's a wonder you haven't found one yet, but we'll keep trying and the council will be happy once you've conceived. It'll all be fine."
Gaara inwardly cringes at the thought of more alphas. More knots.
"Now, about the last one-" she starts.
"I... didn't like him."
"And why's that?" She asks, scribbling on her clipboard.
Gaara looks away, embarrassed. He hated this part. The report.
She smiles, "There's no need to be shy, Lord Gaara."
"He was too...big." Gaara says, not looking her in the eye, "It hurt."
"Alright then, we will not send him again."
She leaves shortly after, and eventually the door opens again. Gaara's heat hasn't even flared again yet, but he knows better than to refuse the man in front of him. The last time he did the angry alpha pheromones almost knocked him out completely, and suddenly he was being knotted. The council gave him a long talking to as well.
Since then he's chosen to spare himself the headache and the lectures. He simply allows the man to pin him and mouth at his collarbone before taking him. Gaara winces through the whole thing - his heat isn't strong enough at the moment for much slick to ease the entry of a knot - but he simply lays there and gazes at the ceiling, mind wandering.
When the next one comes in Gaara hasn't moved. He's still crumpled where the previous alpha left him.
He was too drained to, and sore from taking the last one's knot. Why did they insist on sending such big men? Gaara can barely take it. This new alpha is big, too. And his scent feels dangerous. The council wanted powerful children to continue the Kazekage lineage, so that probably explained it. If the alpha was outwardly strong then they had good genes, according to them. That was just how the village functioned. Gaara also has a sneaking suspicion that they choose well muscled alphas since Gaara also can't overpower them. He grimaces. He hates politics sometimes.
The man greets him politely and then parts his thighs, coated with slick and the last shinobi's release.
Gaara writhes and screams, heat coiling in his belly along with pain and something like pleasure. He isn't sure if it feels good. He doesn't know if he likes it. He doesn't think so. But he can't think at all, really.
Gaara whines and gasps when the man is deep and hard inside him, seemingly choosing to spare all pretense. Gaara doesn't know if he likes this either, but he simply gasps as the man thrusts into him so deep Gaara isn't sure he can even breathe.
The one after that is gentle and careful with him. Gaara likes him more than the last one, at least. He even gives the redhead his name when he comes in. Shira. They actually talk a bit before the alpha kisses him and presses him to the bed.
The last one likes to kiss him. A lot. Gaara doesn't know if he likes it, but he isn't rough or careless with him. So Gaara chooses not to think about it.
Sometimes they send them in the middle of the night. Gaara is too drained to resist when he wakes up under a stranger with a scent he's never smelled before on top of him. In him. He wails, surprised by the intrusion into his body.
His heat is tearing through him, and he simply accepts that the alpha is taking what he wants. Gaara comes with the man's knot nestled inside him - the alpha's spend dripping out of him from around where he's lodged deep into his body.
The man doesn't say a thing, simply smothers Gaara with his muscled form until his knot goes down. The alpha presses him onto his stomach next, and Gaara shoves his face into the pillow, clenching his eyes shut. He just wants it to be over. For him to leave .
His head starts to hurt by the third round of the man on top of him, and when he finally leaves the doctor wants another report. He asks for painkillers and takes them as another alpha walks in. He tenses, and his head throbs.
The one alpha Gaara really likes is Naruto. The blond man came to Suna often, just to see the Kazekage in between his bouts of Hokage training. Naruto brought the sunshine that Gaara needed. He would arrive and pull the Kazekage from his work before they ran off to wherever the alpha had in mind for that day. He could forget about everything when the blond was around.
Gaara always makes sure to schedule Naruto's visits around his heats. He tries to make sure that the man isn't present until Gaara smells like himself again. He doesn't want Naruto to scent anything but Gaara's own pheromones on his skin. He didn't want to explain why he smelled like so many others after heats.
But sometimes Naruto shows up with little warning. Gaara isn't too surprised when it happens, - since Naruto is as unpredictable as ever - but once he learns the blond is here (and Gaara still smells like strange alphas) he always rushes to get clean and try to hide the other scents staining him.
But sometimes Naruto notices , and Gaara has to look away and try to not look as guilty as he feels.
He doesn't know why he feels shame, it's not like Naruto is his or anything. Gaara just felt it in general when it came to his heats, really. How many strangers have taken him? Men he doesn't even know who have knotted him? Seen him gripping sheets and gasping-
Naruto leans into him, "You always smell kinda funny after your heat, actually."
Gaara simply blinks at him, trying not to feel like he's hiding anything, "It's...normal."
Naruto didn't know about Suna's policies and traditions, and for some reason... Gaara felt hesitant to tell him. He couldn't articulate why for the life of him, though. It for some reason felt like something he had to hide. And...well, Gaara would prefer not to think about his heats and what happens during them. Especially not when he was with Naruto.
Gaara changes the subject. He doesn't want to talk about it.
When Naruto asks to spend his heat with him months later, Gaara could cry. Thankfully, he doesn't.
No more of the council's picks for him. No more strange alphas on top of him. No more soreness from careless hands. He knew Naruto. He knew the blond would be careful with him.
He loved Naruto. He has for years.
"Please." Gaara finds himself saying quietly, clutching Naruto's hand. It's almost a sob, but thankfully Naruto doesn't seem to notice, instead focusing on Gaara's acceptance.
And then he beams, bright and sunny. Gaara almost wants to push him away. He feels like a tainted, soiled thing, especially bathed in Naruto's light. But the blond looks at him with such happiness that Gaara feels his heart clench.
"Gaara? You okay?"
"Yes...I'm... I'm fine…" He says, " Thank you, Naruto."
Naruto gently leans into him and presses their foreheads together, taking Gaara's other shaking hand, "You don't have to thank me. Gaara, what's going on?"
Gaara's resolve wavers, and he briefly considers telling Naruto everything. About the strange alphas that he can't refuse because there'd be hell to pay if he did, about the secret birth control pills he takes so he doesn't conceive some stranger's baby. About the meetings where they talk about his heats and his body like he wasn't just a young man standing mortified in front of the council.
He wonders how Naruto would react.
Would he hate him? No longer want to spend his heats with him? Would he change his mind and pull away?
No. He can't. And...Gaara really doesn't want to talk about it. He can still smell all of them on him. He wants to take another shower. He wants to peel his skin off.
"Nothing. I'm alright."
"Gaara...you know you can tell me anything, right?"
"I...I'm fine."
Naruto presses a kiss to the scar on his forehead, and Gaara closes his eyes - happy for the tender treatment Naruto always shows him.
"Whenever you feel ready...I'll always listen, yanno?"
One day. One day.
Maybe.