I am posting all of these for the reviews, so please…review?
Disclaimer: Naruto is not, has never been, and will never be, mine. Pity.
When Sand Meets Snow
- - - - -
Loneliness.
All he had ever known, even when he was a child surrounded by people, was loneliness. Because he knew those people feared him, but he didn't know why. With a child's curiosity and need to be accepted, he asked the people he knew the most. Did he do something bad? Something unforgivable? He had asked with tear-filled eyes and a hoping heart.
He didn't have to ask those questions anymore. He knew the answer now.
He was something bad. He was something unforgivable.
All alone, in his self-created desert of a world, he lived, staring at nothing but his own reflection, living off his own shadow. Knowing only the sand that called out his name, called out for blood.
He had always answered its call. He had become as bloodthirsty as the demon inside, exchanging the love he never had for the warm, rich liquid that pumped out from the heart, for the tortured screams of the damned, for the pleas and cries that fell upon his ears like music as he squeezed the lives out of pathetic mortals who had shunned him.
And then, that unforgettable day. That day when light was brought into his world by something, by someone, so unexpected. It arrived in a glorious burst of yellow, orange and ocean blue, with words that rang in his ears and thundered in his soul. So noisy. So full of life.
But when he stretched out his sand-gritty hands to take it, it was whisked away. A shadow made of dark pain, with eyes as red as blood that bore loneliness equal to his, held the life-giving light in its arms, and the light held it back so tightly, tied together with a bond of trust, friendship, lust and love. It was not his to take after all. He was alone once more.
The sand called out to him again, called for him to become what he once was…to feel once more the pleasure of inflicting pain, of drawing blood, of killing.
He resisted, resisted for so long. Deep in his heart was the seed the light had planted, the capacity for love that he had so longed for. Never again would he be a mindless killing machine. Never again would he be used for anyone else's purposes but his own.
But oh, the music of the dark was so enticing. He longed to be once again wrapped in that blissful painlessness, to never know sadness…to never know hurt. Because he remembered what it was like to be hurt. Because he remembered that one person who he had loved, who he had admired. A person who, deep in his soul, had hated him so much. Hated him so much he had betrayed him. Had tried to kill him. Unforgivable. Unbearable.
He had tried to keep the darkness at bay. He tried what the light had once, and only once, shown him. He took both women and men to his bed. He tried to recapture that brief moment of ecstasy, of pleasure so pure and so overwhelming that it bordered on pain.
He could never find it.
And just as he was about to fall into that darkness once more, snow-white hands stretched out to catch him, and snow-white eyes captured his own, and a voice whispered to him, "Take this loneliness from me and I will do the same for you."
- - - - -
Gaara looked down with emotionless eyes at the slender body on the bed. The beautiful, naked body lying on the deep purple coverlet, pearly white skin contrasting with the ebony darkness of the hair.
He forcibly tore his eyes from the sight and looked around the room. An expensive hotel. Of course. Hyuugas only had the best, even if it was for one from the Branch Family. A half empty bottle of wine caught his eye, and he noticed another empty one lying forlornly on its side on the floor. He blinked and sighed. Now he understood.
Moving closer to the bed, he examined the flawless features. He slid a finger over one delicately muscled arm, over the firmness of a well-toned stomach and up the chest until it rested against a pair of slightly parted lips. Opaque eyes opened and looked back at him. A hand rose to tug questioningly against the firmly tied sash of his satin robe.
"Aren't you going to take it off?" the sultry voice asked.
The young man kept his closed expression and his robe as he slid into the bed, his thigh flush against the other's leg. His companion turned on his side to face him, dark locks sliding over his shoulder. ""Is there something wrong, Gaara of the Sand?"
"You're drunk." His own hand, tanned brown by the relentless sun of his country, came up to brush a stray hair away from that perfect face. "Why are you doing this?" He whispered. "You know who I am. You know how dangerous I can be. Why risk it?"
"Because." Petal soft lips brushed against his fingers and a cheek pressed against his callused palm. "Because the loneliness in your eyes is the same as mine, and I want to take it from you."
He watched, almost hypnotized, as one of his fingers slid into the warmth that mouth promised. Still, he persisted, "I do not understand. We were enemies once. Why do you do this?" A pink tongue slid up the length of his middle finger. "Why do you do this…Hyuuga Neji?"
The addressed just smiled and slid a hand over his nape. "You don't need to understand," he whispered, before pulling him down for a kiss.
Such a sweet, soft kiss it was that Gaara was shocked into stillness. Neji's mouth opened and his tongue licked over slightly chapped lips, begging for entrance. It was granted unthinkingly, and the Hyuuga swept in, coaching the dormant tongue into a dance of seduction that soon turned into one of dominance as Gaara regained his senses.
Tanned hands gripped pale forearms as the desert shinobi eased his partner down flat on the bed. Gaara couldn't think past the fact that there was a long silky body under his, moving seductively against him.
He tasted so good, so refined. There was a feel of mint and alcohol, of barely controlled lust and midnight pleasures, and a taste that was uniquely Neji, and Gaara couldn't get enough of it. His hand slid down a slim waist, caressing it.
Why did he feel so good? Why did he want him so badly?
No, he didn't care about the answers. All he knew was that he wanted Neji, and he wanted more.
There was a disappointed sound, almost a mewl, as their lips parted. The pressure on the back of his neck increased as the Hyuuga tried to make him kiss him again, but he shook his head, bending down to run his tongue along the slender neck instead. He felt the body under him shudder with pleasure. Apparently the Hyuuga's neck was particularly sensitive.
And so was his ear, Gaara found out, after gently licking the shell. The grip on his shoulder and neck perceptibly tightened and a low moan escaped from the tightly clamped lips.
Curiously, Gaara wanted to laugh at this, and he did, a low chuckle that made Neji open his eyes and smile.
And then he was flipped over.
"My turn," the genius murmured, a more sensual smile hovering around his lips.
