I have finally escaped from the hell that is school, which meant it was probably time to update this thing.
This chapter's going to be a bit different, seeing as it's from Gaara's point of view.
Once again, nothing belongs to me except for my questionable writing!
Gaara watched as Lee waved enthusiastically from the dingy green door of his apartment. His impassive gaze tracked the movement of the delicate tanned hand emotionlessly, finally opting to raise his pale one in acknowledgement. This seemed to satisfy the elder male as a brilliant smile lit up his beautiful features, leaving Gaara at odds with the warmth spreading in his chest. It wasn't a comfortable feeling. His raised hand dropped to rub subconsciously at the ache in his chest, cerulean eyes trained on catching the last glimpse of Lee as he disappeared behind the ugly door. The ache continued to linger long after the door had shut with a sharp snip of the lock. Despite this, none of the inner turmoil reflected on the unwavering gaze of the alabaster teen. After a prolonged moment, Gaara turned and began the long walk back to his own place of residence.
To call it a home…was unfitting. While he did consider his siblings his family (something he would only acknowledge if asked directly), any house that was owned by his bastard of a father would never be a home. Gaara didn't linger on that thought longer than it crossed his mind. It was what it was. The redhead closed his eyes as the cold night air nipped at his face, supplying the ivory skin with a light flush. The residual warmth of summer was steadily fading into the crisp autumn chill, leaving the nights just cold enough to make long walks an uncomfortable affair. Gaara preferred the cold, it drew his focus away from confusing thoughts and emotions. He reached into the large pockets of his oversized black sweater and pulled out his phone. Plugging in his earphones, the teen placed the buds in his ears hoping to drown out any remaining thoughts with his music. Gaara let out an audible sigh as the familiar notes began to filter through his ears, the previously unnoticed tension dropping off his shoulders. This was familiar. This was safe. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he made a swift left down the nearly empty street in the main part of the city heading into the upper class portion of Konoha.
Konoha was divided in to several districts, each area acting as a distinct division in the large city. Like most cities, Konoha had a marked lower class area, commonly referred to as the slum. Despite the name, the slum was a rather peaceful and crime free sector given the circumstances. Lee's apartment complex was smack dab in the middle of it, one of the better places in the overall area. Then there were the suburbs located closest to the main hustle and bustle of the city. The suburbs veined out into four areas surrounding the city, two near the downtown area and two closer to the schools. Tenten and Neji lived in two of the suburbs, Neji being closer to their high school and Tenten resting just on the outside of the downtown suburb. These sectors had the friendliest neighbourhoods, with the typical neighbourly gossip and weekly barbecues. The houses were almost a cookie cutter replica of each other, barring the richer areas such as the elaborate complex Neji lived in. Following the suburbs, the wealthiest area of Konoha rested on the outskirts of the city. Naruto, Sasuke, Hinata, and Gaara all resided in the affluent, heavily gated community. This area of Konoha housed the most elite families, all of whom were from old money with aristocratic ties. The mansions that constituted the wealthy community were far removed from one another. They were as intimidating as they were impersonal, giving the district an exceedingly opulent air. Out of all the distinguished families, the Uchiha's, Hyūga's, and Sabaku's were the most notable in all of Konoha. While Neji was also of the Hyūga clan, being Hinata's cousin, his father had become estranged from the main family following monetary disputes between his siblings after the death of the previous head of the family.
Growing up, Gaara had been given everything. He had never struggled a single day in his short life in want of anything monetary. As ideal a notion as it was, things could not replace affection or love as much as his father liked to believe. Or perhaps believe was the wrong word, because that would imply that his father had given his actions any thought. The most likely scenario was his father had very little in the way of affection for any of the three children he had no desire for, and therefore payed nanny upon nanny to watch after kids he had no need of. The stuff had come after, given by said nannies to pacify the children whom were not theirs and would never be. Gaara had no attachment to things. He didn't know he was missing anything in his life until a certain raven haired boy crash landed into his life.
Jean covered legs leisurely ascended immaculate kept metal stairs; their iron bars intricately woven into beautiful facades of flowers and foliage. The pale teen pushed upon familiar white doors, the gleaming surfaces making no noise as they smoothly swung on their hinges. Gaara didn't expect to see any of his siblings at the late hour he found himself home at, and was therefore intrigued to see the unmistakable silhouette of his brother shuffling into the large kitchen. Following his brother, the redhead made his way down the large hall into the main area of the house. The first floor of the house opened up from the entrance hall into a grande main area. Branching off to the left was the large dining hall and kitchen, the former rarely being used except when their father was hosting business partners. To the right was the indoor pool and gym area, not places Gaara often visited unless their group of friends insisted on coming over to swim (something that rarely happened as it was). Further to the back of the main area was the "living room". This room was more akin to a home movie theatre and was overflowing with any and every game or movie imaginable (in no small part thanks to Kankurō's obsession with games and Tenmari's love for films).Two winding staircases led up to the second floor where the sibling's bedrooms where located. Heading to the kitchen, Gaara opted to remain in the door frame, watching as his brother groggily poured himself a glass of water. Kankurō must not of heard his entrance, because upon seeing Gaara looming just outside the kitchen he let out a less than manly screech and threw the glass of water he had been holding. The younger teen watched apathetically as the glass smashed on the gleaming kitchen tiles, sending water everywhere. Kankurō didn't share the same apathy.
"What the HELL Gaara, you scared the ever loving shit out of me!" Kankurō half shouted, clearly trying not to be uproariously loud at the late hour. "Fuck, now I gotta clean this up, great."
Ignoring Kankurō's irritation, Gaara slipped into the room and lent on the wall, observing as his brother picked up the broken shards of glass. "Why are you here?"
Kankurō looked up from his crouched position, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. "Where else would I be? It's late, and I wanted some water? I dunno, where did you expect me to be?" He resumed picking up the shards, going as fast as he could without accidentally stabbing himself.
"Temari is out, I assumed you would be as well," was the flat reply supplied by Gaara. He continued to watch impassively as his brother threw away the broken glass and wiped up the water with a kitchen towel.
"Nah," Kankurō drew out as he stretched to mop up the last of the spill, "my plans fell through, didn't much feel up to leaving."
Blue eyes narrowed as Gaara assessed the forced casualness of his brother's admission. "You were worried."
"What—no, no I just wanted to stay home is all," the brunette denied far too quickly to be truthful.
"I am no longer a lost child, there is no need to wait up for me," Gaara airily informed.
"Christ Gaara," Kankurō begin as he slammed the towel down on the counter, "I know you don't need protecting or anything, i'm just—i'm your older brother okay? I care about your well being, alright!"
"Hmm," was the ambivalent response. Gaara walked over to his brother, who now seemed sheepish at his outburst as colour marred his lightly tanned skin. He picked up the towel that had been discarded in Kankurō's frustration, folding it neatly and dropping it back over the shiny rack. "While the sentiment is appreciated, it is not needed. Good night brother."
Gaara heard his brother's fond, but exasperated sigh as he headed up the stairs to his room. His bedroom was the third room on the large upper floor, the last door at the far end of the hallway. Gaara locked the door behind him as he lazily reached up to turn his lights on. The pitch black was bathed in pale light, revealing a surprisingly barren room. To the far left sat a gigantic, luxurious bed. The fluffy red comforter sat atop black satin sheets with large, shapely black pillows perched at the head of the bed. across from the foot of his bed was a door leading to a walk in closet, filled with mostly black and red clothing leaning more towards punk or goth in style. Beside the closet was a luxurious bathroom, complete with a claw footed tub and a stand alone shower. To the right of his bed there was a sleek bedside table which held his laptop, and a simple lamp. The rest of his room housed an impressive book collection, which occupied several floor to ceiling shelves. Other than that, the redhead's room was devoid of anything overly personal; no family photos or even mementoes were on display. In fact, the only photo that Gaara actually owned was secreted away in the back of the second drawer of his bedside table. If anyone were to happen upon it, they would be greeted with the image of two young boys, arms childishly thrown around each other. One could be seen beaming widely at the camera while the other stared with something akin to fondness at the former.
The pale teen tossed his phone carelessly on his overly large bed, pulling off his hoody offhandedly. The article of clothing landed at the foot of the bed and was quickly joined by a black t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans. Gaara rubbed a hand over his face as he stood partially naked in his room, letting himself relax fully in the familiar space. He crossed his room and went into his closet, swiftly snatching a pair of silky black pyjama bottoms. Pulling them on, Gaara made his way back over to his bed and flopped down on the plush surface. Staring at the black ceiling of his bedroom, the young male found his thoughts zeroing in on a particular male without the distraction of music or the cold night air. He recalled the events that had taken place earlier that afternoon, perfectly recreating the anguish that had overwhelmed the usually serene features of his—dare he say, best friend. Something in his chest pinched at the memory. Contrary to what others assumed, Gaara was well versed in the potential consequences of his actions. Although he still had difficulties sympathizing with others, having grown up in an arguably emotionless environment, he wasn't completely brain dead. He knew bringing up sensitive subjects would more likely than not lead to less that smooth situations. However, he also knew Lee. Endlessly kind, and abundantly insecure Lee, who continued to struggle with speaking openly about himself. That's not to say that he didn't talk about himself, because he did….when it was positive. The redhead knew that Lee grappled with opening up about his problems because of his fear of burdening people with his issues. Gaara knew that his friend sometimes needed a push, and if that often made him the "bad guy", well so be it. In his own way, he could sympathize with Lee's plight. Or, more accurately, Gaara could understand where that particular insecurity stemmed from. While Lee battled with his past and how it continued to influence his life, Gaara struggled with breaking out of the habits ingrained in him by his father. Or, rather, his lack thereof.
The apathetic teen had been an undeniably cruel child. He rarely spoke as it was now, but as a young child he had been practically mute. This in itself was manageable; the various nannies would often leave the sullen, eerily silent child to himself. When he did deign to vocalize, no one was excused from his poison tongue. Gaara was bitter, and furious —at what, he wasn't sure, being far too young to grasp his own situation fully, but he was positively vindictive. This anger would simmer, sometimes for weeks or even months, until the child reached his breaking point. When everything billed over —well, there wasn't a single nanny that had lasted past two tantrums at most. Everything changed when Gaara met Lee. He had been ramping up to another tantrum that warm summer day. In an attempt to stave off the rising anger, the current nanny had opted to take the young boy to the local city park (not the best choice for an asocial child unaccustomed to being around other children for prolonged periods of time). Gaara had sequester himself to the very outskirts of the park, having no desire to be any closer to the rambunctious children and their insufferable noise. He preferred to observe, watching almost distastefully at the merriment he had never experienced (because anger was much easier an emotion to process than sadness or jealousy). It was during this moment of mild disgust, as he continued to scan the unfamiliar scene, that he caught a glimpse of a figure slowly crumpling in upon itself. Vivid turquoise eyes snapped back to observe the outlier in the happy, domestic landscape. The boy, because despite his surprising height the figure was definitely that of an older child, seemed to be sobbing silently to himself. His thin frame shook almost violently with the force of his crying, but no one seemed to pay any mind to him. Several adults walked passed without a single hint of acknowledging the clearly distressed child. Gaara's non-existent eyebrows drew together angrily. Despite having never felt a single shred of empathy towards anyone in his short life, he could feel something stirring in him. Without giving it much thought, the redhead made his way over to the still crying child. Stopping just behind the boy, Gaara hesitated momentarily. He had no experience in comforting others. He wasn't even sure if that's what the uneasy feeling churning in his stomach was urging him to do. Haltingly, he reached out a small pale hand, resting it briefly on the others shaking shoulders. This seemed to be enough to snap the taller child out of his sobbing, as he whipped his head around to face Gaara. The alabaster child was completely unprepared for the sight that he was met with. His breath was sucker punched out of his gut in a silent gasp as he stared into large obsidian eyes wet with shed, and unshed tears alike. This is what angels look like, came the stray childish thought as Gaara continued to stare down at the shocked boy. Neither of them seemed to know what to do. Eventually the redhead opted to sit beside the raven haired boy, both of them drifting into an oddly peaceful silence. That had been the start of their unlikely friendship.
Gaara rolled onto his side as his thoughts continued to cycle around Lee. They had been inseparable from then on, at least when they could be together. Gaara had found in Lee everything that had been lacking in his life; he finally had true companionship and genuine affection. They had only grown closer as time went on, and slowly the solemn child learned to move beyond the emotionless shell of his youth into a level headed teen. Darkly rimmed eyes narrowed as Gaara rubbed at his chest once again. The uncomfortable warmth spread anew from his sternum through his upper body. The warmth seemed to linger whenever he thought of his best friend. It wasn't a new feeling, not by far. He had been experiencing the very same sensation since around the age of fourteen when Lee had given him a chaste kiss on the cheek in a moment of excitement. Although he had become more perceptive of emotions in others, he still struggled with his own. Gaara was a truthful person in general; he saw no purpose in lying or deceiving, preferring to be straightforward. He applied this to himself as well. So it wasn't for lack of trying to decipher the feelings he experienced, but more a matter of not knowing what these feelings translated to. It was simple for Gaara to acknowledge he was physically attracted to the raven haired male. Having accepted his own sexuality early as well, it was second nature to recognize that his friend was undeniably beautiful and something that Gaara could take pleasure in watching. All silky hair, and smooth tanned skin, with perfectly adorable features as well as a lithe body; Gaara would be an idiot not to find allure in Lee. He knew he wasn't the only one who took note of Lee's natural appeal, if the halting looks of Neji and Sasuke were anything to go by. As he grew into a teenager, it was unavoidable to notice how his body began to respond to his best friend. Gaara had never been shy or ashamed of his reactions, it was just a natural part of getting older. His siblings, having grown attuned to Gaara, knew instantly of his affection for Lee. Kankurō and Temari liked to tease him in their own way, slipping in mention of the tanned teen during conversations to try and get a reaction out of him (it never did outrightly, though the steady increase of his heart rate begged to differ). However, that didn't stop him from hiding from Lee. He could sense the raven haired male's struggle with his own self, and had no desire to contribute to his turmoil if he had anything to say on the subject. So Gaara made sure to school his actions, which honestly didn't take much considering he wasn't the most outwardly affectionate person in the first place. He was quick to monitor how long his gaze would linger on Lee, taking care to be nothing but friendly (or as friendly as he could be). And perhaps, a small part of Gaara acknowledged, his actions were as much for his benefit as Lee's. The longer he could put off asking for assistance in working out his emotions, the longer he could put off being under his siblings thumbs (because he knew the teasing would be relentless). Gaara knew objectively what love was. He found love in the kindness of his friends and their desire to be around one another as often as possible. He found love in his siblings, as Kankurō actions that night more than proved. He could even reciprocate the love of friendship and family that was given to him. He, however, did not know what it meant to be in love. As he thought once again of Lee— his breathtaking smiles that continued to grow more sincere as the days went on, his soft laughter that could draw Gaara from his distant exterior, and his kindness that extended to all he touched— he thought, that perhaps, he was beginning to understand.
And there you have it, one more chapter to this little fic. I needed to take a break from Lee's point of view, mainly because I needed to actually move the plot along but also because I was stuck on how to keep this going. Do not fret (not that any of you are, mind) i'm not going to abandon this story! I have every single intention to see this thing to the end, i'm just worried it might become boring. Alas, I shall try my best.
Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to read this story and even leave a comment. As much as I say I don't mind either way, I really enjoy hearing what you guys have to say about this story and it warms me to see even the smallest comment!