Dormancy
Gaara woke up, unsurprisingly, in the middle of the day. He got out of bed, following his morning routine out of exhausted habit, it was almost as if last night hadn’t happened at all. He was able to live in that fantasy until he saw his phone on the coffee table in the living room, right where he’d left it when he had Lee inside, when he had been rejected. The burn of the truth slapping him over the head was more than he would have ever expected.
His mood dropped, sudden and harsh, and it was all he could do to keep from dropping to his knees. He felt tears pricking his eyes, he hated it. He hated that he had let someone in and he ended up feeling like this, that he was capable of feeling like this. He sat down on the couch, glaring at his phone like it was what had made everything go so wrong with Lee instead of his fucked up brain and self destructive tendencies.
He laid down on the couch, squeezing his eyes closed so as to not give himself the slightest chance of crying. He wouldn’t cry over someone like Lee, hell, he hadn’t even wanted to be his friend in the first place. He was a weirdo who didn’t know how to dress, never used contractions, was stupidly focused on everyone getting the chance to enjoy their youth, and seemingly had never done anything wrong in his life like some sort of fucking saint, he dressed oddly too, like a fucking aerobics instructor from the 80s.
He had no redeeming qualities that someone like Gaara should have enjoyed, he wasn’t handsome in that odd way that really came out when he wore those stupid muscle tees, he wasn’t generous to a fault in a way that made Gaara’s heart melt, and he wasn’t one of the best things that had happened in his life, not by a long shot. He was a stupid jock dork who had talked to Gaara about getting adult braces because he had always needed one to correct his bite like some sort of nerd. Gaara should have hated Lee-no, he did hate Lee, even if all he wanted was to text him-to tell him that he was so sorry for being so erratic and ruining things and he still wanted to be friends even if Lee felt awkward about the confession, but he was supposed to hate him. He couldn’t want to feel the heat and weight of Lee’s body pressed against him or listen to his speedy breathing when they watched a horror movie together, he couldn’t want Lee to praise how he ate or talk about different students in all of his classes. There were so many aspects of Lee that he could deny himself- deny made him feel practically worthy to be alive, and all those things were so succinctly boiled down into just Rock Lee being himself. Gaara couldn’t like Lee because every part of him made him feel so warm, so good, and he now knew that no matter how much he wanted that goodness, he could never have it, because he didn’t deserve it.
By then he was in tears, curled up on their tiny couch and pressing his face into the fabric that smelled even older than him. He lie like that for a while, silently letting his face get wetter and wetter as a greater sense of agonizing pain pooled in his chest, only to be discovered by Kankurou.
Out of everyone in their little family, Kankurou was probably worse at handling the emotions of others than Gaara, not because he couldn’t understand them well (Gaara’s problem) or even that he was too pushy when it came to comfort (A mode of action that had gotten Temari her lazy boyfriend) but instead, Kankurou liked to make jokes. Gaara had many a memory of Kankurou’s puppets being broken by both him and their sister when he made some sort of ill placed comment and busted out laughing. This time though, Kankurou seemed to understand the severity of what was happening, if only because it was Gaara who was in tears. Rather than approaching with the sympathetic softness he gave Temari, he was hard edged and angry looking. Gaara wiped his face, already on guard for what Kankurou would say next.
What happened
His voice was gruffer than usually, like the one he put on to scare guys off when they were all out in public together.
Gaara sniffed, staring at him for a long moment before letting out a shaky sigh. He had promised to be better, and part of being better was honesty, at least, that’s what he thought. Wiping his face one more time just for the assurance that it was entirely dry, he spoke.
Lee and I-
What the hell did that bastard do?! Did he try something inappropriate?! I swear Gaara I’ll beat the kid’s ass if he even dared to fuck with you!
Gaara shot Kankurou a dirty look, a silent demand for him to shut his fucking mouth so Gaara could explained and Kankurou managed to indeed shut the fuck up.
Gaara cleared his throat.
Lee and I got into a fight.
No way. From everything Temari’s said sounds like you two are the picture of a happy couple
Gaara flushed then, his face red hot all the way down to his neck. He couldn’t resist the urge to kick Kankurou, leading to a loud whine that sent Temari running from her room, concerned about Gaara having maybe, finally, murdered Kankurou. Instead she was met with Gaara’s bony toes digging into Kankurou’s kidney and Kankurou whimpering for Gaara to stop.
Gaara only pulled away when Temari asked him to, curling up into the tight ball he had been in before. It wasn’t at all difficult for her to notice his puffy face and red cheeks, Gaara was terribly easy to read when he was upset like this, he supposed. Temari made him talk about it, with both her and Kankurou and even talked about him doing more than group. Once again, if not for the pleading look on her face, he would’ve said no. Instead, the afternoon and late night was spent making phone calls, doing internet research, and watching horror movies as a family, they even ordered almost a buffet’s worth of chinese food to gorge themselves on, though it was mostly Gaara who did the gorging.
By the end of the night, Gaara was squished between a sleeping Temari and Kankurou, both warm and sturdy against him. It felt nice, knowing that they were willing to do something like this for him.
It made him feel loved.
The following days were horrible, as Gaara began to notice all the places Lee had infected his life. The patch of apricot mallows he had so been doting after had been something Lee was seemingly as invested as Gaara in them, now though, he couldn’t tell him how well they were doing. He couldn’t text Lee on his ride to or from work, and when he wanted to go to a nice trail to stare at the fauna for a few hours before going home, he couldn’t get a seal of approval from someone he trusted. There was also the issue of group, to go or not to go? That was the question. Gaara decided he’d wait, see if Lee asked him if he was going like he always did. That would be his answer as to whether or not he should go.
Gaara sat around at work, waiting, hoping that he would get a text from Lee, even if they were in a fight, even if Gaara had been so ridiculous the last time they were together. Instead, by the time Gaara got off of work at four, he was met with nothing but a broken heart yet again.
He didn’t need to go back anyway, he would just go to regular therapy.
Regular therapy was shit.
He hated his therapist, how each session felt impersonal and as if his therapist already had preconceived notions on what was wrong with him that were based off of only the blueprint of someone with his litany of mental disorders and the constant malfunction of synapses in his brain that made him act as embarrassing as he was. Each conversation was cold and quiet on Gaara’s end, and the whole time he sat there all he could think of was Lee.
Lee would have never made him feel that way, Lee always made sure he was comfortable and happy to share. He was reliable and honest and never looked at Gaara like he was something to be hyper analyzed then thrown to the side.
He hated himself for what he did, for how horribly he had fucked things up. It had only been ten days and Gaara missed Lee terribly. He was no longer in that stupid state of denial he had been in, he couldn’t even claim to hate him anymore.
He just wanted Lee back.
Whether he liked-loved-him or not, it didn’t matter anymore because he had fallen in love with Lee because of their friendship and that friendship meant the world to him.
He agonized constantly over what the hell to do to give Lee a proper apology for what he had done. He considered getting him a pair of thermal leggings he saw in a department store with Temari once, but he worried that it would come off wrong, like he was refusing Lee’s rejection by giving him such a personal gift. He thought about buying him a new set of sweatbands, he had seen the ratty things Lee wore when Gaara caught him after a workout and they were utterly appalling. Once again, he dropped the idea, they seemed almost too impersonal now, like Gaara hadn’t once paid any sort of attention to what Lee actually liked and cared about and instead went for practicality, though Lee was a practical guy. Finally, the idea came to him, strangely enough, while third wheeling with Kankurou and his weird friend who was covered in dog hair.
The three of them had been wandering through a music store, Kankurou trying to sell some old CDs he didn’t want anymore while his pseudo-boyfriend looked around for some weird obscure album, something about it being mountain singers that helped him relax. Gaara stood off to the side, watching as the two of them went along like the merry fools they were. He wouldn’t admit that he was sort of jealous, especially when he saw how Kankurou helped him find things or laughed at him when Kiba seemed startled by a particularly intense song that he was shown. It hurt very distinctly to see, he remembered that feeling, and he hated that he could remember it so well. He had admitted to himself before that his feelings for Lee were, of course, that of a romantic nature, but it hurt even more to realize now, particularly that he was gone, that he was in love with Lee. Totally head over heels for him like one of those stupid leads in one of Lee’s stupid cheesy romance movies that Gaara missed watching, and what would one of those sappy idiots do? Plan a grand gesture.
Of course, Gaara wasn’t the type to scream his love from the rooftops or go to Lee’s job to try to make up, hell, Gaara couldn’t even confess because he had already and that had been a bust. Instead, Gaara would have to apologize properly, in a way that words alone wouldn’t be able to convey. He remembered something Lee had said, so petty and small that he had forgotten until being in that store.
It is always very awkward when I have new friends in my car, they often want to connect their bluetooth but all I can play is cds
His laugh had been a little tense, anxious even, then because Gaara wasn’t talking or even properly looking at him. Gaara knew now that it was because Lee couldn’t handle his tense silence, and when he got nervous he talked a lot, even too much. Gaara decided then he would figure out a way to make Lee a CD he could play in his car. He didn’t know how the hell to do something like that, but if it meant winning Lee back, he would do whatever it took.
He went home with a renewed sense of determination and a Kankurou whose makeup was smudged because he had spent the entire bus ride home making out with an idiot who didn’t understand the concept of an inside voice. Specifically, an idiot who didn’t know that Gaara could hear himself be called A poor, sulky emo kid, but like, not in the hot way. . He had wanted to punch him, but instead focused on making a playlist of songs he knew Lee liked and would convey how Gaara felt.
He stole Temari’s laptop to make it, and a CD he knew Kankurou never listened to anymore. It took work to clean it, trying his best to get rid of all of the scratches and old artwork. Then, he set to burning the three and a half hour long dramatic, for him, spectacle he had created within the past several hours.
By the time he finished, it was around four am and all he had to do was write a title. He went for something simple and straight to the point. In his very own brand of chicken scratch, Gaara wrote,
I’m Sorry.
Now, he just had to get the courage to give it to Lee.