Sand in Your Shorts

Chapter 3

.x.x.x.

Neji's kisses were intoxicating. And Gaara was addicted. Every time Neji tried to draw away, Gaara would drag him back, desperate for another mind-drugging taste. Gaara couldn't remember how they had gotten this way- nor did he care, not really. So long as Neji didn't leave. Which Neji didn't seem terribly inclined to do, so everything was good.

Was this what happiness felt like?

This wasn't the hotel room in Konoha. It wasn't Gaara's room back home either. It wasn't… it wasn't anywhere. Gaara was vaguely aware of the sand beneath him, silky and soft, shivering and sighing and aching… or maybe that was him. Hard to tell. Hard to care, really. Neji's hands felt so much better, smoothing down over Gaara's hips, the sweetest caress along his inner thigh, then touching him there, there, where the ache was the worst, the need was greatest.

Was this what pleasure felt like?

If it was, Gaara wanted to drown in it, wanted to wrap himself up in it, to never let it go. Never let Neji go. This pleasure was Gaara's, Neji was Gaara's. And then Neji was inside of Gaara, and the universe was ending. Or maybe just beginning. Or maybe turning inside out, but fuck the rest of the universe anyway, because there was no one else but the two of them. Gaara, and Neji. Together as one.

Was this what love felt like?

It felt… kind of sticky, actually.

Gaara's eyes flew open. The sun cast a hazy pattern of light across the ceiling. He recognized the ceiling; he'd spent most of the night staring at it. The blanket was tangled around his legs, and the pillows had somehow ended up on the floor. Gaara was the only one in the bed.

"What the hell was that?" Gaara demanded of the empty room.

"That," Shukaku said, "was a dream. A wet dream, if I'm not mistaken. Good morning, sunshine."

Throughout the many years of carrying the demon within him, Gaara had trained himself out of the need for sleep. When he was really in need of rest, he could usually slip into a self-aware trance-like state; not sleep, but close enough to it. Occasionally however, the true needs of his body caught up with him and sleep would overcome him. Never for very long, and the slightest shift from Shukaku would wake him. It never lasted long enough for him to dream, something he usually counted as a blessing, since he could only imagine what sort of dreams his mind would cook up for him.

But that… that certainly wasn't what he imagined.

"I… but…" Gaara frowned, setting to untangling the sheets. "How come you're still here?"

"And miss that show? Are you kidding?" Shukaku said. "If all your dreams are like that, I should really let you sleep more often."

"I hate you." Finally, that was one emotion for the morning that Gaara could understand. Because really, everything else was just too muddled and confusing. He threw the dirty sheets onto the floor and determinedly stalked into the bathroom for a shower, hoping that if he ignored the dream and its implications, then maybe it would be like it never happened.

Naturally, Gaara discovered by the time he was clean and headed down for breakfast, ignoring the dream didn't help all that much. He couldn't stop thinking about it. If Gaara believed in Fate, he would think it hated him.

"Hey Gaara," Kankuro greeted as Gaara joined him and Temari at the breakfast table. "Er… rough night?" Once, Kankuro had made the mistake of asking Gaara if he had "slept well." Gaara had broken the toaster over Kankuro's head. Temari had been pissed because her toast had gotten all bloody.

"I'm fine," Gaara answered, as he usually did. Even when he felt somewhat less than fine. Like now. Right now he was definitely, undoubtedly, one-hundred-percent not fine. But they really didn't need to know that.

"Oh. Good," Temari said. "Because tonight you're going on a date with Neji."

-Neji's hot breath on Gaara's neck, his teeth on his flesh. Gaara waiting with breathless anticipation for the bite-

Gaara willfully pushed the flash of the dream from his mind, frowning at his sister. "…so soon? We only got here yesterday."

"It has to be soon," Temari said. "We have to leave in a little over a week." She dug in her pocket for a moment, then produced their pass-port from Konoha, stating the three of them were allowed in the city for twelve days. "Bureaucracy bites, doesn't it. I was hoping for a longer pass, but since we technically don't have a legitimate reason for being here, this is the best they could give me."

"We'll make do," Gaara said. "Twelve days is long enough for a simple mission. Was there anything else you had planned for the day?"

"Yep," Temari pronounced with that grin that always made Gaara… slightly unnerved. "Today I'm taking you shopping."

.x.x.x.

Gaara had been through a lot of terrible ordeals in his lifetime. He'd been hunted, betrayed, nearly killed on an occasion or two, tortured by a demon and driven nearly to the brink of insanity. He would gladly do it all again if it would get him out of this shopping trip.

There really was no talking Temari out of it when she decided on something like this. Gaara didn't even waste his breath trying. Instead he idly considered the many ways to murder his brother; Temari said Kankuro's fashion sense was even worse than Gaara's, and Kankuro quickly used that as an excuse not to come along. Yes, Gaara decided, Kankuro would most certainly pay for abandoning him to their sister's whims.

Gaara didn't see what was wrong with the clothes he was wearing. They were sturdy and practical, and fit comfortably. Temari said they were a crime against all gods of fashion. Whoever they were.

And so, Gaara was dragged through store after store, dutifully (though not happily) trying on whatever outfit Temari pressed upon him. Temari at least seemed to be having a good time. She was happily taking advantage of the fact that Gaara's dark glare- which was getting darker by the second- frightened most of the shopkeepers into giving them outrageous discounts. Every time Gaara looked, there seemed to be more shopping bags than there were before.

Temari hardly bothered asking what Gaara thought of the clothes she'd made him try on. It all looked the same to him. Clothes were clothes; as long as they covered the essentials, who cared what they looked like?

Luckily, Konoha was a city for shinobi, and so the clothing stores didn't carry anything truly outrageous (unless you counted some of the more brightly colored wardrobes that seemed specifically tailored for ones such as Uzumaki Naruto and Rock Lee). Gaara finally called a halt to the shopping trip after they'd accumulated more clothing than he thought they could carry back to their hometown. They returned to the hotel and Temari sent Gaara to his room to change into his new acquisitions.

Gaara dumped the bags onto the bed, frowning at the mass uncertainly. Temari had told him to change. She just hadn't specified what he was expected to change into. Gaara was pretty sure he heard Shukaku laughing at him in the back of his mind as Gaara rooted through the many bags and boxes, searching for something appropriate to wear to ask someone out on a date.

He paused as he remembered that little detail. That's what this whole ordeal had been for, hadn't it? He was trying to impress his target, Hyuuga Neji. So what would Neji like?

Unfortunately, Gaara had no idea about that either. But piece by piece, he started to select an outfit out of the pile. First came the shirt, soft and pale, almost white. It reminded him of Neji's eyes. Next came a jacket, black with nearly a dozen heavy buckles for closure. With the shirt it would make a nice contrast, like Neji's hair against his skin. After some thought, Gaara ripped the sleeves from the jacket; long sleeves would be far too hot for a desert boy like him. Even fashion had to make way for practicality.

All the pants Temari had purchased were the tiniest bit tight on him. Gaara's sister wasn't really the careless sort, so he assumed she had chosen that size on purpose. Simple dark brown pants, almost black, completed the outfit. He ignored all the shoe purchases in favor of the standard shinobi sandals. After dressing, he looked at himself critically in the mirror.

He looked… well. He looked like he usually did, only with different clothes on. Again, he didn't see the big deal in a new wardrobe. It had to be one of those things that were important to "normal" people. Well, he was dressed now, and if Temari disapproved, she could pick something else out. He gathered the gourd and left the room.

But when he returned downstairs to face her inspection, Temari nodded approvingly and proclaimed his choices "not bad, not bad at all." She passed him some money and the standard ID card Konoha required visiting shinobi to carry, and said he was ready to go.

"She's got a lot of faith in you, letting you out on your own like this," Shukaku commented idly as Gaara headed out into the city to look for his target. "This place sure would look pretty as a smoking crater. Are you sure you don't want to-?"

"No," Gaara hissed. He turned down another alley, wondering where he ought to look for Neji first. He wondered if one of the local citizens would tell him where the Hyuuga house was if he asked politely.

Shukaku laughed. "Even when you're polite, you sound like you're making threats."

Gaara ignored the demon's banter as he continued through the city. His best bet this time of day, he decided, was to find Konoha's training facilities. It was as good a place as any to look for the Hyuuga genius. He remembered most of the training area from his visit during the chuunin exams, and it was easy to find his way there.

The sparring grounds were lively at this time of the day. Several shinobi were gathered in groups, competing against one another to polish their moves. Most groups halted in mid-strike and quickly hurried out of Gaara's way as he walked through the ground. Sure enough, he spotted his target on the far end of the field, having a rather relaxed sparring match with Rock Lee. Or at least, Neji looked relaxed, his every move so smooth and poised it was like a dance. Lee fought with more exuberance, and seemed to be having a great time despite his inability to land a strike on his opponent. Neji's enjoyment of the mock battle was barely apparent; the slightest hint of a smile, the relaxation of the shoulders, the way he gently curbed his every strike to keep from winning too quickly.

"Are you just going to stand there drooling," Shukaku broke through Gaara's thoughts, "or are you going to go talk to him?"

Gaara was generally not one to hesitate. Ever. Over anything. Still… maybe he ought to come back a little later, when Neji was less occupied…

"Oi, Gaara!" Lee called, spotting him. "I didn't know you were in town! Want to have a spar after I'm done beating Neji?"

It was funny, how Lee could forgive people who had at one point in their life tried to kill him. Gaara didn't think he would ever understand people. "No. I came to talk to Neji."

Neji paused, straightening from his stance and turning that intense gaze of his on Gaara. Out of habit, Gaara stared right back, and… promptly forgot whatever it was he'd planned to say. Neji really did have the most intriguing eyes up close. They weren't the smooth, milky white Gaara had once thought. They had the slightest hint of blue, with tiny sizzles of iridescence, like fine opals gleaming in the sunlight.

Neji turned his gaze away to murmur something to Lee, and Gaara quickly shook his thoughts out of their reverie. It was stupid to be distracted by Neji's eyes, no matter how intriguing they were. He had to keep focused on the mission.

Gaara and Neji moved off to the side of the training ground, where it was a little quieter. Though Rock Lee was quick to forgive Gaara's past transgressions, it seemed that Neji had a bit more caution than that. He didn't sound hostile, but Neji's tone was undeniably wary.

"What do you want, Gaara?"

"You," Shukaku silently answered for Gaara. Gaara could just tell that the demon was grinning.

It really didn't help that Neji was… looking at him like that. Like he was looking right through Gaara, right down to the dark hidden places Gaara never revealed to anyone. Vaguely, Gaara wondered if Neji could see Shukaku trapped within him. If he could see the barely contained chaos that sometimes threatened to overwhelm Gaara's very being.

What also didn't help were the remnants of Shukaku's whispered words, the flashes of memory from Gaara's dream. Wondering if Neji really kissed the way Gaara had imagined it. If Neji's skin was really so soft, so sensitive along his inner thighs, or the small of his back. If Neji would ever really look at him with such affection, such desire…

"Gaara?" Neji's voice interrupted his thoughts. "What are you doing?"

Gaara blinking, suddenly realizing Neji was no longer looking at him. Neji was looking down at his feet. Gaara looked down as well. A thick coil of sand was weaving around Neji's feet, rubbing against his ankles like an affectionate cat.

The sand was almost an entity unto itself, but it was eternally obedient to the whims of Gaara's subconscious. Therefore, if Gaara wanted Neji, so did the sands. Gaara quickly called the sand back to its gourd, giving the cork a quick thump back into place.

Neji was watching Gaara now with quiet curiosity. "Sometimes it leaks," Gaara explained softly. So much for making a good impression, letting blood-and-chakra-rich sand run around loose!

"What do you want?" Neji asked again. But his voice was softer now, almost puzzled.

"Dinner," Gaara answered.

Neji pointed back the way he had come. "Restaurant district is that way-"

"…with you. As company," Gaara clarified. "Like a date."

Neji stared at him. "A date?" he echoed faintly.

Gaara frowned. Hadn't Neji ever been asked on a date before? Or maybe it was that Neji didn't like boys… after all, Temari and Kankuro had both been quite surprised when Gaara had picked Neji over the girls they had pointed out. Or maybe Neji was just surprised that it was Gaara, specifically, that was asking him out. Gaara really should have given more thought to this part of the mission…

Neji's intense gaze swept over Gaara again, as if to ascertain that this was, in fact, really Gaara and not some prankster pulling a transformation jutsu. Apparently satisfied with whatever he saw, Neji finally shrugged absently. "Well. I suppose it wouldn't hurt anything…"

"What he means by that is, he's afraid of that damage you'll cause if he says no," Shukaku said gleefully.

"Lee wanted to finish our sparring," Neji continued. "Do you mind waiting for a bit?"

Gaara shook his head. Neji gave him another of those long, indecipherable stares, before returning back to the training field where Lee was waiting. Gaara let out his breath in a gentle sigh, leaning back against the wall. Well. He supposed that had gone well enough.

"Celebrate you minor victories while you can," Shukaku said sagely. "The date hasn't even started yet. There's still plenty of time for you to screw up."