Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, and honestly I would probably never have the creative capacity to think of something even close. Kudos to Masashi Kishimoto!
An Epilogue To Something
Revised: 5-6-06
By: Forgetmenow An Epilogue To SomethingRevised: 5-6-06
Spoilers: Post manga ch 280-ish
To my FF readers: This of course is a ff-guideline edited story…Lemony content has been removed (actually kinda making a bare skeleton of a story.) The continuity and flow aren't so great with that chunk taken out. I recommend it to be read in it's entirety if you don't mind graphic adult situations. You know where the complete story is. ;-)
Warning: If sandcest offends you, do not continue.
Story contains sandcest, OOC Gaara x Temari, they already have an established relationship. I've purposely left certain plot details vague, so you can make your own assumptions.
Temari whipped herself around to see Gaara leaning heavily against the doorframe of her room. His reddish brown hair was disheveled and askew while his clothes were rumpled and dusty. No longer the shortest of the three trio, Gaara was lean and broad shouldered.
"Welcome back Gaara. What took you so long?" Punctuality was not one of Gaara's better points. She darted towards him but halted abruptly to prevent herself from toppling him over. Concern was evident in face as her tone softened, "Are you okay? Why are you standing like that?"
He walked straight past her not even bothering to acknowledge her. His lack of response worried her. It reminded her of his younger self: the aloof and apathetic being that cared for no one other than himself. He slipped the gourd off his shoulder and unceremoniously dropped it in the middle of the room. It gently rolled back and forth on its side before coming to a stop. He made his way to a wooden chair in the corner and collapsed backwards into it. Kicking off each open-toed boots one by one, he gave a deep sigh before letting his body sag in a motion of relaxation and exhaustion. His body literally hung limp in the chair, his shoulders were slumped as he slouched, his arms hung lifelessly at his sides.
Temari had closed the door and was leaning her back against it. She was pensive and unsure. Gaara flung his head back and closed his pale turquoise eyes for a long moment, momentarily rubbing the bridge of his nose between thumb and finger. Then he opened his eyes and stared long at the ceiling before he spoke.
His voice was tight as he raised his head, "I'm okay. I just need ...some…sleep…" The word was still so foreign to him. The way the simple syllable fell from his lips seemed unnatural to him. Sleep was a still a rare luxury that he was hesitant to indulge.
Temari's voice was low and barely audible as she frowned, "sleep…"
He wants to sleep! Temari's heart skipped a beat before going into overdrive. She felt momentarily dizzy at the as the gear in hear head turned.
"You're hurt! I know it! Let me see!" Since the Akatsuki ambush, Gaara had to rely on medical nin and long-eluded sleep to recoup from injuries. The biju healing properties were no longer a primary defense. She rushed across the room, nearly tripping over the gourd, when she accidentally kicked it in her haste. Standing domineering before him, she pulled on his arms till he compliantly stood up from the chair. It creaked with the shifting weight. She roughly yanked and pulled at buckles and latches to his gourd-supporting mantle. Gaara ineffectively batted her fevered fingers away as she literally ripped his clothes off, removing his large tunic-like outer coat. Eventually, he stopped protesting and just willingly let her have free access. She didn't notice the side of his mouth quirk up. Once she had divested Gaara of his upper garments, she was greeted by unblemished, creamy pale, skin of a tone masculine chest. No bruises or hidden cuts or lesions anywhere.
"You're perfectly fine! There's nothing wrong with you!" She said accusingly as her sea green eyes scoured his upper body then met his gaze. Gaara was pleased. Her eyes were scowling as his mouth widened into a grin.
"Oy, oy, I wish you'd strip me like this more often." Gaara's voice had a faint hint of mirth.
"Jerk, don't scare me like that again!"
"Would you prefer that I didn't return unscathed?" His now serious as his eyes narrowed a bit.
"You had me so worried. Here I was, left behind, with a stack of scrolls and paperwork for missions. I can't believe I agreed to let you and Kankurou complete the mission without me. I wanted to be there with you two, like in the old days." She had fisted a hand and was hitting the area just above his heart as she pressed her face against the crook where his neck met his solid shoulders so he wouldn't see the expression on her face. The way she was hitting him was not strong enough to bruise. "If anything, I should be with you more often. You're not invincible any more. The sand doesn't protect you as well as it used to. You're more fragile than you think!" Her hot tears wetted his skin.
She hadn't even realized she was crying until he held her chin between his fingers and tipped her face up, and kissed away the trail of tears. Temari sniffled. What was wrong with her? She never cried. What kind of nin was she to shed tears so easily? She hadn't cried with grief when she was crouched over Gaara's lifeless body. She didn't even cry with happiness when Chiyo-ba had given Gaara's empty vessel new life. But since that time, the notion of losing Gaara presently struck a nerve more sharply. His value and presence meant much more to her now than it had in the past.
Gaara wiped the remaining salty residue away with the pad of his thumb. There were those dark times in his past when he felt he wasn't needed by anyone is this world. He had felt like an outcast -- a monster -- an unwanted creature. Yet, when Gaara looked down into Temari shimmering green eyes, his chest squeezed in an odd manner... It was one of those strange sensations that he had just until recently begun to get accustomed to -- To be wanted by someone -- To actually feel important to another being for reasons more than just as a tool or weapon.
To be loved.
He pressed his face against the side of her sunflower head, and found that his arms had wrapped around Temari. With Temari's proximity, the scent of dessert lilies and jasmine flooded his senses. He inhaled the aroma of Temari's perfumed hair. His arms tightened even more fiercely. He again turned her face up to his and lightly kissed Temari's lips. The contact wetted his appetite to taste the sweetness of Temari's mouth open and pliant beneath his. It reminded him of why he had been so eager to return. Homesickness had become associated with Temari. He felt longing and outcasted when distanced too long. Where ever she was, he wanted to be there as well.
"You make me sound like a glass vase that'll crack at the slightest touch. I can assure you, I'm made of stronger stuff than that." The last part he spoke huskily into her ear. "Care to feel?" Before she could even reply, Gaara had gently taken her hand which she had just used moments before to pound his chest. He slid her hand down over the fabric of his pants until it rested above a sudden growing hardness. Her breath hitched as she took an intake of air.
"I thought you said you wanted some sleep…" Temari said in a shaky breath. A tiny spark of excitement ignited craving to be built into firey passion. She could already feel the desire building in the pit of her stomach at his blatant offer.
The bandages she used to bind her breasts down became evidently more constrictive as the sensitivity of her nipples heightened. Temari felt the concept of a brasserie was hindering to shinobi duties by accentuating her breast size and shape. However, occasionally, she would indulge Gaara by wearing silky and lacy lingerie beneath her clothes. He was a tits-man as opposed to ass. He was mesmerized by the curves and feminity of those soft globes. She always found his reaction flattering.
Temari felt herself blushed pink in the face at the thought of Gaara's hands cupping and squeezing her breasts.
"Hai… I did, demo…" Gaara's voiced was seductively deeper and enthralling , "I've found something I want more…Onee-chan."
He used the title of their kinship as an endearment, though their relationship had escalated to something beyond the normal accepted boundaries between a brother and sister. It was how he initially knew Temari. Their past was already written and could not be altered. Despite the manner Temari had known Gaara while she was growing up; she had stopped feeling guilty once the revolutionary change in their roles had changed. The transformation was unexpected, yet she embraced the new path that their current bond was leading. He had been her brother, but now, he was her lover. He was the sand nin that craved love only for himself, but now he shared it with her. Now he only wanted to love her and be loved in return.
"Kiss me, Temari. Show me how much you've missed me." He leaned his face close to hers so their breaths mingled as he guided her hand to caress the stiffness between his legs. Gaara kissed the side of her mouth, trying to draw a reciprocated reaction from Temari. She closed the gap and eagerly met her lips to his. As their lips danced, his tongue coaxed her mouth open, inviting hers to mingle with his. Temari turned her head to deepened and extended the lip numbing contact.
(Censored right here.)
Once the coherent thought returned to Gaara as well as the strength in his legs, he carried Temari to the bed, eager for his turn to show her how much he missed her, all the while, never severing the connection between their joined bodies. He wasn't willing to let the reason for his existence slip far from him.