Gaara gave in.
He looked over to where Hinata was in the stands, caught her eye, and walked back out of the stands. She followed him, as he knew she would. They were alone together in a dark hallway within the stadium.
Gaara looked at Hinata, with no words or explanation for why he had wanted her to meet him here. She stared, confused and still a little angry from earlier.
"Gaara, what-" Hinata's words were stifled by the sudden pressure of rough lips against hers. They were tried and chapped, which she later realized was probably from living in the desert. At that moment in time, however, Hinata wasn't thinking quite that clearly. If she had been thinking clearly, or thinking at all, she probably would have pulled away, but Gaara was glad she didn't. She didn't even pull away when Gaara unbuttoned the thick coat she always wore. He let it fall off of her soft, pale shoulders. Hinata didn't even pull away when Gaara slid his hand underneath her shirt and felt along her fishnet top.
Hinata reached up to tangle her fingers in Gaara's hot red hair, loving the soft feel of it between her fingers. Hinata's entire body felt alive, like she could feel every inch of herself. It felt almost like the end of a hard day of training, but it felt so good nothing could compare. Hinata could feel Gaara's thick, strong hands pulling her waist as lose to him as he could. She could feel his tongue lightly grazing her lips, taunting her. She could feel his other hand hot against her theigh, feeling his way up, and up, and up…