Chapter 3
They went straight home afterward, in agreement on the notion that both a lunch and dinner date in the same day would overdo it, as well as their destination being back to the bedroom. The curtains were still shading the window so shadows fell over everything in a surprise relief from the sunlight of the day.
“I could put on some tea, if you’d like,” Gaara said, sitting at the foot of the bed.
Hinata stood at the bathroom door, her hand on the frame. “Maybe, but I was thinking of taking a shower and I think it’d be cold by the time I got out if you made tea for me now.”
“Oh… well, then…”
“Gaara?”
He looked up at her.
“Would you like to join me for a shower?”
“Of course.”
***
Dinner with the Hyuga typically went one of two ways that Gaara knew of—
One, with Hiashi, only with Hinata and Hanabi’s conditional blessing beforehand, at the request that he spend time with the children. Hinata thought it was important for the kids, since he was still alive and all. Hanabi thought it was more than he deserved.
Those dinners, already few and far between, were short, almost solemn, often missing a lightness that a family gathering should’ve probably had.
Dinners without him, though, were so much fun. Even Gaara gave in to its energy midway through their meal, and without even thinking about it. He’d just laughed—to himself, no less, glancing down at the top of Himawari’s dark hair where it pressed into his side at the dinner table.
They’d been there for a few hours already. He lost track of time a while back.
Gaara brought his arm around Himawari’s back and nestled her in closer to him; she responded by diving back into her food, pulling her attention away from the mobile game that flopped into her lap for the meantime. When she was done, she rested against him again.
Across the table from him, Hinata caught his eye and smiled. Boruto, next to her, had leaned into Hanabi’s side the same way.
Gaara averted his eyes, his face warm. He’d been chosen by one of the children. What an honor.
His phone went off between them right as Himawari went to pick up her mobile game again, and she glanced up at him, straightening up.
“Sorry, is that important?” she asked.
“Sorry, sunshine,” Gaara said. He dug into his pocket for his phone, checked the number—irked that family dinner would be interrupted—then held on to his heart as it reached for his throat. It was Temari. Why did it feel like he hadn’t heard from her in so long?
Hey Gaara. When are you planning on leaving? I would like to see you again before you go if you have the time.
Perfect timing, Temari. She always did have perfect timing, when it came down to it.
Gaara ruminated over his schedule for a moment then asked if he could come over tomorrow. So long as he wasn’t delaying things…
Really?
Before he could reply, Temari said again,
Tomorrow’s fine, you’ll just be dealing with a whole house if you do. Shikamaru is sick.
Sounds like fun. I’ll look forward to it.
See you soon :)
Gaara shook his head and returned to the last half of his meal that he hadn’t been able to put away before. His fingers pushed around the chopsticks that poked at salmon, rice and seaweed covered in sauce. Inside him, a yawn opened where an appetite must’ve been. Sometimes, he couldn’t tell.
But after thinking of Temari’s little :), he glanced up and met Hinata’s eyes, and it really felt okay to be okay.
So Gaara grabbed up a big bite of food with his chopsticks and enjoyed chewing it a whole bunch of times before he swallowed it down.
***
The plan was simple: He wanted to wrap up the gift that he had stashed away upstairs in the guest room (that he hadn’t been staying in since Hinata had invited him to hers and Naruto’s room that night). It hadn’t been that much of an ordeal when he’d lugged it over from Suna on the train.
But now, he wanted to make it presentable, and that was making him anxious. It had grown into an all-morning event, with him, his pipe, his tea, the decorative wrapping he’d spied earlier on in the week and his Sasori mech puppet.
Surely, Shikadai would think it was as cool as Kankuro was banking on, but Gaara needed it to be a surprise in order for him to really know.
It was for one of his kids, though—his freaking nephew. He’d get it done. He just.. needed to shake out a few more nerves first and cover the damned mech before he ended up missing the date altogether.
***
“What is that?” Temari said, as soon as she saw it.
Shikamaru snickered from where he, no doubt, lay across the couch, useless.
“It’s for Shikadai.” Gaara shrugged the gift-wrapped puppet mech over his shoulder and searched for somewhere to rest it. He swept the corridor, looking for Shikadai, as well. “Where is he?”
“On a mission, if you can believe it. Give me that creepy thing. I just know Kankuro had something to do with this, huh? I’ll put it up in his room. He may actually be back soon, if you’re lucky.” Temari took the mech, pressed a kiss to Gaara’s cheek and darted upstairs to do as she said she would.
Warmed by her familiarity, he wandered into the living room where Shikamaru indeed lay the entire way across the couch, looking as worthless as anything. A cold compress rested over his forehead, and it already looked like he hadn’t left his sweats in at least 3 days.
“You look good,” Gaara said.
“Do I? Then you look just—” Shikamaru gestured a grand Okay before going limp again. “Sorry. Wish I were better.”
“You’re fine any kind of way. I’m just glad to get to see you at all.”
“He speaks,” said Temari, returning from upstairs. “And blushes, too.”
“I didn’t know he was a stranger to either, Temari.”
Gaara glanced at Shikamaru; he winked, thinking nothing of coming to Gaara’s defense.
With a nod of her head, Temari shrugged once. “Hm. I noticed it is all. I like the look. Your eyes are sparkling now and whatever.” Here, she grinned at him.
“If they do,” Gaara said, “it’s only because I got it from you.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“That was pretty bad, Gaara,” Shikamaru said.
“I know, but I had to say it, at least once.”
Temari laughed. “Okay then. You’re welcome.”
“If you can say shit like that easily to Temari, why can’t you do the same thing with Naruto?” Shikamaru asked.
The mood in the room shifted. From playful to scattered. Then tense.
“What do you mean?” Gaara asked, carefully.
Shikamaru and Temari threw their hands up at the same time, though neither seemed aware of it.
“Why don’t you go to see him?” he asked.
“I thought I had,” Gaara said.
Temari said, “Try again. I have a feeling you’ll get more answers out of him this time around if you do.”
“Let's say I promise to do that, then, okay? I don't need you two hounding me over it.” Gaara groaned one good time. “I have too many concerned siblings.”
“Aw, don't be like that, little brother,” Shikamaru said. His tone dragged and teased despite the wear of exhaustion beneath it. Like it was really worth the effort to call Gaara little brother.
For him, though, it probably was.
“Yeah,” Temari said, sat on the arm of the couch. “We just want you to be happy.”
“And spending time with Naruto is supposed to do that?”
For better or worse, Temari and Shikamaru glanced at each other wearing the same puzzled expressions before turning back to Gaara.
“We kinda figured… yes?”
Temari shook her head and got to her feet as Shikamaru hid his face after smacking himself first.
“Well, you're here now, so would you like something from me?” she asked when she took Gaara's hands into hers.
“Oh, please, not another bite to eat. Maybe just some tea?”
***
Morning had been eventful. He shouldn't be here—at the doors of the Hokage office, waiting to be received by Naruto on the hope of hopes that his heart would clear up as much as his head had been lately.
But, tired as he felt, Gaara figured so long as he was out…
And Rock Lee had rung on the walk over, so there was also that to look forward to.
What a busybody he'd turned into! Social life was a second job akin to his station as Kazekage, if it kept up at this rate. Although, in a sense, much more rewarding.
Which was why he shouldn't be here right now. Naruto had work to do. Gaara was only distracting him from that, at this point.
Konohamaru swung the heavy door open, but Gaara’s eyes—quickly, sorry—swept right past him to the center of the room. To Naruto at his desk. Both hands occupied because that was Naruto's way. And his smile lit the room when it reached Gaara, looking up to meet him.
“You're here!” Naruto’s eyes were so blue, backlit by the sky behind him, that they almost glowed as he grinned. “Perfect timing, ya know. I wanted to see you.”
“Me?” Gaara said.
Konohamaru tripped over something behind him. Gaara turned to check on him, but Konohamaru waved him away, bowing as they both turned to face Naruto again.
“You're gonna do that, Lord Seventh?” Konohamaru asked. His question had the air of implication, as though he should've tacked on “what we discussed” at the end.
“I can't keep expecting him to read my mind, ya know. That's what Hinata says.”
Gaara crossed his arms. “Naruto.”
“Come out with me, Gaara. Again, I mean. Um, tonight.” He smiled, sweetly.
Of course Gaara had to be the one to ruin it.
He said, “No.”
Even Konohamaru let out a surprised cough from behind him.
Naruto didn't seem to mind, though. “Oh? Did I finally wear out my welcome?” he answered, still smiling, all foxlike.
If only such a thing were possible. Gaara would welcome a reprieve from his obsession with this life that had so many facets of him in it.
In fact, learning that Naruto wanted to see Gaara again made him feel all strange and stirred up on the inside in a way that he could really get used to. Hinata had already been spoiling him rotten the past few days, and now this, so openly and often…
He wanted to grab at any chance he could get, to be honest, but he had to turn Naruto down—tonight, he was seeing Rock Lee and Metal for a quick catch-up dinner.
“You have my number, right?” he asked Naruto, instead of answering him.
“Of course,” Naruto said.
“Just try to reach me before I go. I do live at your house in the meantime, after all.”
They could exist in the same space every night if they wanted to. For a few days.
Naruto began to reply but then stopped, nodding. His eyes wandered over Gaara's form for a long, long minute. “How's Hinata been?” he asked suddenly.
Gaara's mouth opened, but it didn't produce any sound until he clamped it back shut.
Their eyes focused on each other.
“I'm taking care of her.”
“Thank you. I hope she's taking care of you, too.”
“She is. You know that already, though, because she would've told you.”
“What can I say? She's my trusted partner.”
Gaara nodded, glancing down.
“Gaara…” Naruto's chair shifted as his body moved away from the desk and toward Gaara in the center of the office. “You're not worrying again, are you? I've got it on pretty good faith that you're all lit up around the village, and if you return with that look on your face after visiting me, everyone's going to know it's my fault you're upset, ya know.” And at the end, a smile, of course.
Gaara still hadn't decided on if Naruto's babbling was characteristic or calculated when they came face to face with each other.
“So have a good time on your date with Lee and Metal, and I'll see you at home later,” Naruto said carefully. His hands cupped around Gaara's elbows, though his grip remained firm enough to ground Gaara. Naruto searched his eyes. “Is that good?”
“Yes, that's good,” Gaara said.
Konohamaru offered to walk home with him, since Mirai Sarutobi—Konohamaru’s cousin and Naruto's Captain of the Guard—showed up to trade places. She greeted Gaara cheerfully with her wide, red eyes squinting over a smile so warm, it shone; when she was done with Gaara, she launched into a quick but deep talk with Konohamaru before they left the office.
Outside, the stairs leading away from the Hokage Office wound their way down the side of the building. Gaara and Konohamaru walked side by side in companionable silence on their descent. It was breezy tonight, balmy.
“Thanks for walking me home,” Gaara said once they were about halfway to the Uzumaki's. “You seemed busy in there. Do you have plans for after?”
“Ah, I was already on my way out, kore. Next shift's Mirai's, as you saw. I am actually on my way to see Hanabi and the rest of the kids for some dinner. The teams have been working their butts off. They deserve a little celebration on us, kore!” So much pride emanated from Konohamaru that Gaara could almost mistake himself for being proud of some Leaf ninja of his own.
Having jonin leaders like Konohamaru, with such transparent faith and confidence in the new ninja system, be in charge of the next generation made Gaara hopeful for further progress.
Thinking in this vein always took him back to his duties and responsibilities as Kazekage back home, so he didn't allow himself to dwell for too long, otherwise the urge to plan new phases of living, training and mission cycles would strike. Kankuro had made him that irksome promise to keep away from work for this one week that he was away from everything else, too, and while it had seemed like such a bright idea at the time…
Although, it would be rude to pull out his phone right now and text Kankuro or anybody in his office, wouldn't it?
“That's good,” Gaara said, still pondering Konohamaru's pride over his shinobi team. “Shinki talks highly of Boruto, and Yodo and Araya want to meet Sarada and Mitsuki again. Maybe we could arrange something next time you have downtime scheduled. Or even a trip to the Hidden Sand village like we did for the kids when they were in school? I wonder if I could ask Anko-sensei…”
Konohamaru blinked, and Gaara blinked back, realizing just then that they had come to a stop underneath the shade of a tree. Speckles of sunlight streamed across Konohamaru's face and blue grey eyes.
“Eh?”
“I think it's an invaluable idea, Konohamaru.” Gaara slipped out his phone. “I have your number already, I think. Yes, from Naruto. So, is that okay? The children would benefit from it, too, but more than that, it's bound to be fun, right?”
Konohamaru finally recovered himself. Shook his head, scratched at the back of his neck when it became apparent that he grew nervous. “Sorry. I just—I don't think you've ever asked a personal favor like that of me before, Lord Gaara.”
“You don't really have to call me that…” It made him blush when his friends addressed him by his title. Like he wasn't a grown, desert dwelling man.
“Sorry!” Konohamaru blushed, too, looking younger than before. “But now that you mention it, the team has been looking for a good opportunity to visit other villages. I can't believe it's taken this long to get to Suna, kore!” His blush grew into a glow under the afternoon sun spots that dotted his face. “I can't wait to tell them about this,” he finished excitedly.
Gaara let out a short laugh. In that moment, Konohamaru's youth showed through more than ever. He could see the enthusiastic 14-year-old who'd run around Konoha recording greetings for Naruto and Hinata's wedding day. The little brother to the world hero.
“Glad to hear it. Thanks, again, for taking me home, Konohamaru. Enjoy your evening with your teams.”
Gaara unlocked the gate and waved one last time before entering the house, taking off his shoes. “Hinata?” he called out, albeit hesitantly.
Nothing answered him back.
He migrated into the kitchen to start on some tea before dinner. It hadn't necessarily been a long time since he'd seen Rock Lee and Metal—especially considering the hot spring adventure just the other day—but he always worried about being good with Metal. The gift he'd bought this time around was a gold filigreed bow made to fit around his waist in the dragon influenced style he favored. Gaara hoped the attention to detail made up for the simplicity of the gift, but in the end, dinner went along so pleasantly that Gaara smiled all night.
***
It was the morning that made everything seem sluggish and slow again, like a dismal layer of ice had poured down low over the world around them. Maybe it had to do with the shift in weather—a storm front was passing by just south of them—but either way, Gaara's lightness of mood had dissolved during his sleep.
Only bitterness remained.
He remembered his smiles from last night's dinner, and Metal's grin when he'd gotten his gift, and Lee's little flush whenever Gaara had embraced him throughout the night. He remembered snuggling into bed—the way that he was right now—except he had been happy about it, then. Now, he just felt listless and depressed, as though the past few days had all been for nothing.
(And, the way things were going, he didn’t have the wherewithal to remember that it actually wasn’t.)
Lee's room smelled of body wash and incense, and Gaara got a big noseful when he planted his face in the pillow between his arms from where he lay belly down in bed. Lee was close to him but not touching under the covers, bare chested. If the light gently glowing blue outside the window turned any brighter, Lee would wake up to it.
And Gaara would be just there, looking at him, foul mood and all.
That really was the last thing he wanted to do. Lee was an early riser, though, and there was no way Gaara could even feign sleep at this point. So, hopefully before Lee woke up, he could get his mood under control.
He didn't know what had done it. Maybe he'd been overtaxing himself—but that sounded like such an excuse, a cop out, that Gaara immediately dismissed it. Maybe he just wasn't built for this and had been kidding himself all along? That seemed way more likely, right?
Anyway, as fun as it was to indulge in tempting self-pity, Gaara deserted those thoughts as soon as they surfaced. They served no purpose other than to hurt him, anyway. So he caressed each one as it left, but he emptied himself of negativity, then tried to actively think of good things instead.
After a moment of coming up blank, Gaara settled on thoughts of dinner with Naruto.
***
Not long after that, Lee woke up.
“Gaara,” he said, first thing in the morning, and Gaara tried not to place any deeper meaning or implication to that fact. “You are awake.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I had a bad dream that I couldn't shake.” Gaara readjusted the way his face fell across his arms as he met Lee's eyes from across the bed. They were bright and sunny eyes, ready to take on the world despite having just woken up. “I didn't wake you up, did I?” Gaara asked.
“No, not at all,” Lee answered, carefully from his pillow. “Can I ask you about your dream?”
To be honest, all he could recall anymore was sand and blood. Like a bad story, all he had were the worst parts to tell. Flashes of the nightmare.
Slowly, Gaara shook his head.
Lee tilted his head in understanding. “Then I have a better idea. For my morning workout, I have a trip to the dojo planned. I think you should come with me, Gaara.”
“Oh, Lee.”
How did he know? How did he always know? Rock Lee was a mastermind at perspicacity—something like a run or a usual intense workout routine would send Gaara screaming for the closet; however, a trip to the dojo always destressed him when he was feeling out of sorts. It was foolproof, by this point.
Lee let out a subdued morning laugh that Gaara watched with wonder. “Can I take that as a yes?” he asked.
Gaara measured out the stickiness of his mood and decided he'd let it stand for the time being. If he couldn't get it together for Lee, he kind of was hopeless.
But he was Kazekage of the Sand, so of course he could do something like this even at his worst. He'd been doing it all his life. That wasn't the point.
Gaara gazed into Lee's eyes. He loved how dark they were. Black truly was a beautiful color. “I don't have an overnight bag with me, Lee,” he said. “Would it be okay if I use your things to get ready?”
“Of course. We are leaving together, so we should get ready together. Right?”
“Right. Well. Then can I join you for your shower, too? Um, please?”
It killed Gaara to not be able to fidget, but he wanted to say this without giving too much of himself away outside of what he had already given by asking. Lee would know, anyway—because Lee always did. No reason to parade it around like he had a fucking air horn with him or anything.
Not in the middle of the early morning, anyhow. Not these days.
If asked, he couldn’t say what he was expecting, lying stock still in bed, facing Lee as he waited for an answer. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the gentle smile that softened Lee’s expression and tightened a line all the way down his body in the same sweep.
“You are the boss, Gaara. Except for breakfast, if you do not mind me taking the reins on that one. I have it covered,” he said, then smiled, eyes closing over it.
Best smile in the world, at that moment.
***
“Do you still do that?” Lee asked as he gulped at his morning tea at the dining table with Gaara, later. He nodded to the pipe Gaara held to his lips, poised with his thumb at the carb and a lighter in the opposite hand, ready to light the bowl.
Gaara raised his brow slightly, hit the pipe then passed it to Lee. “It’s the only thing that helps, sometimes,” he said, only after Lee took it.
“Does eggs and toast sound manageable, Gaara?” Lee asked, and got to his feet. He passed the pipe back and made his way to the kitchen. The morning still kept its early coolness and slowness that Lee nevertheless defied, as usual.
“I guess,” Gaara said. He took a sip of Lee’s tea.
***
The walk to the dojo was better. After showering, Gaara's mood had sobered a little bit, at least, so there was that. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to stomach anything more than a slice of toast, tea and a few hits off his pipe, but the healing presence of Metal's hand slipped right into his as they walked along in the morning heat, and that made him so, so happy.
When they arrived at the dojo, Metal situated himself aside, prepared to watch, which surprised Gaara—knowing how much like Lee he'd grown to be, how dedicated to training—until he noticed the figure of another shinobi enter the dojo just after they had. Another friend he hadn't seen in too long.
Tenten.
She twisted her brown hair up neat and wore work out clothes fit to let her move easily—and sheathe deadly weaponry. Even in unarmed combat, she made room for her specialty, should the need ever arise. A professional through and through.
Of course, among friends—and such capable, trusted ones, at that—it was not as though anyone expected anything like that. Tenten just loved to fight. She and Lee were so alike in that way.
Oh. That was probably why she chose to be his training partner this morning.
Gaara studied her face as she greeted him with both hands waving his way, squinting with a grin that she then turned on Rock Lee. It shifted to something slier.
She was on fire. Ready to go.
Gaara went to go sit next to Metal and watched as Tenten squared off with Lee in the center of the dojo. They were mesmerizing to watch. Anyone could tell they had been partners and close friends for longer than not, the way they pushed and pulled at each other with their moves. Every execution happened on a perfect beat that led to the next in perfect sync.
(Gaara frowned when they finished, realizing he wanted to watch more. Then he snapped out of that. They were his friends—not a movie.)
Tenten, towel draped over her shoulders, made her way over to Gaara the same time that he stood and gravitated toward her. She had the poise of high level shinobi, with her hair still carefully tamed in twin buns and her breathing already returned to normal.
“So nice to see you again,” she said to Gaara, hugging him. “You look good.”
“So do you.” Gaara hesitated for only a second before he wrapped his arms around her back.
She pushed away. “Sorry about that, Kazekage. It's just been so long. And you're finally here. How you been?” she asked, sizing him up gently.
He crossed his arms. “I've been well.” The lie felt stale in his mouth. He hated lying, and he wondered why he'd decided to do it all of a sudden. Especially since he wasn't much good at it—he'd said it all wrong and stilted, practically gave himself away.
He tried to clear his throat of it on the low, and attempted some normal conversation. “I have a date later.”
Tenten's eyebrows went way up. “You really are well.”
“It's with Ino and Sai. Actually, um, I was meaning to ask you to join me with them.”
“It would be better than going alone, huh?” Tenten thought over it, rubbing sweat out of her eyes. Splotches of red began to bloom across her cheeks and neck as she did.
“That's one way of putting it.”
Tenten grinned again, a light. “I'd be honored. When is it?”
“Oh, tonight.”
“Aw, damn it. That's my one like, obligation. If you would've said any other time—”
“No, it's fine. It's not anyone's fault. Thanks for even considering it in the first place.” Gaara laughed once to test it out, see if he could, and it turned out just fine. Most things did. He was learning that.
Tenten laughed along with him. “Now I kind of want to cancel my plans and take you up on yours.”
“Oh don't make me out to be the bad guy.”
“Wouldn't dream of it. See you around, then?”
“If it means I get the pleasure of watching you beat Rock Lee into the ground like you did just now, you will see me all the time, if you're not careful.”
Tenten held her sides as she laughed it out. “You’re in a mood, this morning. I love it. I really have missed having you around. It’s been forever. Come by more often, huh? Hey, Lee, what’d you do to him last night?”
Lee looked up from where he was showing Metal a technique. “Nothing, Tenten—I just fed him!”
***
He did feel better—that was true—but that didn’t mean the first thing Gaara wanted when he made it home was anything other than a nap. As fulfilling as it had been to see everyone and do everything, the morning had already been eventful, and it was only 9.
“Hello?” he called into the house, walking into the kitchen. Tea, first. He smoked as he prepared it, too.
It was later in the day, and the weed was taking its inevitable effect, but by the time he got hungry enough to do anything about it, the tea had finished steeping, so Gaara just drank that and climbed back upstairs to sleep. Lit, sleepy, sad; dazed, to an extent.
He just went wherever his body sent him.
***
The first thing he noticed about his dream that pulled him right out of it was that blood was hot—not warm, like this, like a hug, like a smile. Those things didn’t belong in his rancid nightmare realm where only bad memories terrorized him.
So, naturally, Gaara woke straight out of it and into reality—the reason he’d felt such warmth in the first place when he had been expecting the heat of spilled blood, instead. He blinked hard to orient himself a few times then settled.
Instantly, he knew. It was Naruto’s warmth. Only half on top of him, a furnace of natural radiance that Gaara had yet to match (except, maybe, by none other than his partner, of course, shewould—), but it burned him up all the same.
Gaara groaned. He ran a hand across over his forehead, hair curling from sweat under his fingers.
Speaking of Hinata, she wasn’t home. Gaara and Naruto were alone in bed without her for the first time in—who had the brain power to process how long it had been?—and Naruto’s weight over the half of Gaara that he’d blessed him with held back a sudden, striking panic that scared Gaara for a half second.
It was the middle of the day now. If Hinata wasn’t home, hopefully that meant she was with a friend, but since he hadn’t touched bases with her all day, Gaara just decided to text her quickly. He had that much energy since his heart had gone into overdrive a minute ago over nothing. Luckily, Naruto was only lying on half of him, so Gaara could still move the other half of his body that reached his phone at the bedside table.
You okay? It’s late.
He didn’t anticipate an immediate response, and he didn’t get one, but only a few minutes passed before Hinata replied:
With Ino. I’m fine, I promise. Are you?
Gaara made a face at that question. He wanted to know if she was well, not get her all concerned about him, damn.
I am. Will you be staying at Ino’s for dinner tonight?
She answered faster, this time. I’m afraid not. Sorry.
Gaara glanced down at the head of blond hair planted in the center of his chest and thought he might understand at least part of the reason she would rather take care of things at home.
I helped cook though :) I’ll see you later :)
It seemed pretty clear that she was preoccupied, so Gaara replaced his phone on the dresser, brushed his fingers through Naruto’s hair once then snuggled back down to sleep a little more while his heart still stayed calm enough to rest.
***
“Oh? You awake, Gaara?” Naruto said. His voice seemed to come from every corner of the room, with as tired as Gaara still was, but he moved closer into view until everything solidified in its proper, singular place.
“Naruto?” Gaara said.
He was a bright spot against the grey of the surrounding walls—shock of orange and black, blond and blue. His voice sounded normal, announcing the late hour—exactly how late?
“Yeah, Hinata thought you should wake up soon before you're late for your date, so she sent me to wake you up. Did you forget?”
Gaara stared at Naruto from the bed. “No. I had an alarm set. It didn’t go off…?”
Naruto brought his arm up high and scratched at the back of his head. “I guess not. You were sleepin’ all hard.”
“Hm.” Gaara, ignoring that last bit, finally shuffled out of bed and toward the bathroom. From Naruto's earlier bit, Hinata must’ve made it home, so he expected Naruto to hoof it back downstairs as soon as possible in order to catch up with her.
But when Gaara pulled down his toothbrush and closed the mirrored cabinet door to find Naruto leaning in the doorway, watching him, it sent his pulse flying. He was grown enough to admit—he did like spending time with Naruto—just maybe not saying so out loud to his siblings in the middle of casual conversation.
“Do you mind if I stay here with you, ya know?” Naruto asked, softly. Their gazes met in the mirror.
“Not at all. I'm just doing normal stuff.” And so he went about it, and Naruto watched from nearby, an appreciative presence as Gaara got ready for his date all the way up until he kicked Naruto out. “Gotta freshen up for my friends,” he said, shutting the door in Naruto's stricken face. Victorious, for now.
Because when he came out, Naruto would be there—duh? He'd still have to deal with that sorry expression he'd put there even if he'd delayed it by slamming the door in its face.
Shit. He should probably apologize.
He should’ve known better than to tease, even if Naruto’s presence lulled him into a light, high mood more often than not. Carefree, when he’d learned to live his life careful. Who was he to have that?
Considerably more morose than when he’d shut himself inside, Gaara opened the door to the bathroom once he’d finished getting ready.
The room he returned to was empty.
Honestly, he couldn’t even be upset, really. He was sad, to be sure—tears sucked at the oxygen around him until he hiccupped past them, choked his way through—but mostly he blamed himself for losing the few moments he’d had with Naruto by being, well, himself.
The worst version of himself that had decided to visit, anyway. Always tried to remember that.
Although, regardless of whatever piece of shit version had decided to show its face for now, Gaara got a good look at himself in the body mirror in the closet, and he had to say that he looked damn good for this dinner tonight, so what did it really matter, in the end?
Who cared what he felt like on the inside? Or why? The dark dress that fell to his ankles was all that mattered right about then.
“Wow, Gaara. I thought you were joking ya know,” Naruto said from behind.
Gaara spun at the sound of his voice, his own caught in his throat for a few seconds longer than he would’ve liked. “I was. What’s that supposed to mean? What do you mean by that?”
Naruto stepped past the threshold, into the closet with Gaara, so broad that his shoulders almost hit the hangers on either side of him. In seconds, Gaara was boxed in by him, warmly, like a light.
“It means, I think you joke too much,” he said, too close even without touching.
Gaara glanced up at him. “This coming from you?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just—” Naruto reached out for Gaara then paused for a moment before sliding bandaged fingers down his arm. “I haven’t seen you in a dress in a really long time, and I can’t believe that tonight, when I finally get to...”
Drawn into the lament, Gaara fell in closer to Naruto at the same time that Naruto’s free arm went around him. Their mouths touched instantly, but Naruto wouldn’t let Gaara push any further than that and held him still with strong hands and will. It didn’t take much, the way he was now.
“I’m going to get it right, Gaara,” Naruto said, fervently against his lips. “I promise I’ll do right by you. I’m sorry it’s taken me so goddamned long, but—”
“What are you talking about…?” Gaara whispered. Some parts of what Naruto was saying made sense, but most of it mainly confused him and his fragile, trashed heart. With the way he felt, he had a feeling couldn’t afford to make heads or tails of it, either, lest he be dragged back into thoughts of wars and death and other traumas.
Naruto sighed. “Gaara…”
A beat of silence passed before Gaara’s senses alerted him to a presence other than their own nearby. He glanced away from Naruto’s face, into the room over Naruto’s shoulder, to find Hinata standing with her hand on the doorframe.
She smiled at him, then leaned toward Naruto. “Wanted to let you know dinner’s done, Naruto, if you’re ready?”
Gaara unwound. Dinner. Hinata. He’d missed her. Hopefully she was all right. She looked okay. Earlier, she’d said she had helped cook the dinner that he was about to have with Ino and Sai, too. One more thing to look forward to tonight. And he got to come back home to her, as well.
Then, tomorrow, who knew?
Oh, man. He should probably get home soon or else run the risk of getting attached to this.
***
According to Sai, Inojin Yamanaka had all the art supplies his heart could ever desire, so Gaara thought he would go in another direction and foster his interest in the mind-body area with some books that boasted incredible illustrations. Since Inojin had dabbled in the Yamanaka clan’s specialty jutsu before, Gaara didn’t see the harm in gifting such offbeat books, and if he got labeled eccentric for it… well, it’d hardly be the first time such a thing had happened.
The night fell splendidly calm outside, the kind of calm that he had come to appreciate over the past 15 years since he had fought for the peace that still rang true to this day.
He felt less like death and more just like he was tired, but Sai and Ino didn’t need to know that. They didn’t deserve it, either. They just wanted a pleasant dinner with a dear friend. He used the night walk to energize himself for the ordeal.
(This. This was why he didn’t do social things very often. He had to remind himself he had a tendency to stretch himself too thin.)
Sai was the one to answer when Gaara arrived. He smiled, welcoming, with both eyes closed, classically him. “Hi, Gaara. Nice to finally see you again. Come in, please.”
“Thanks, Sai.” Gaara entered and got settled quickly.
Ino and Sai’s house was comfortable, a lot like the Uzumaki’s, so he didn’t have to worry about the traditional aspects that Shikamaru had brought with his influence to the Nara home he’d created with Temari. Gaara sat in the living room with Inojin and talked through the books with him until Ino arrived.
“Wow, these are amazing! Where did you get books like this?” she asked, examining them out of Inojin’s reach.
Inojin pouted and went to bother Sai in the kitchen.
“One of the libraries in the Sand had them. I was researching when I found them. You’ve never seen books like these before?”
“No, I have, just never these exact ones, and certainly never from outside the village. Wow, I might have to give them a flip through and see if there’s anything I don’t know in here for myself.” Ino’s eyes lit up even brighter than usual as she thumbed through a few pages before calling Inojin back to give them to him with a kiss to apologize for the brief monopoly of his gifts.
Inojin laughed as he took the books, simultaneously though, he frowned at Ino’s kiss on his face. “Thanks for these, uncle,” he said.
Oh. Gaara felt warm.
“Well, Inojin,” Ino called after him, but Inojin had already bounced up the stairs to his room. She turned to face Gaara again. “I’ll make sure he knows why he should apologize for that before we eat dinner. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I don’t think it was rude; I've known him since he was as born, after all. He can call me uncle if he wants.”
Ino let out a breath and flicked her bangs aside once. “If you’re fine with it. I feel like half the kids in this village already do, anyway, right?” She laughed. “Thanks, again, for the getting him a gift. Is there anything I can get for you before dinner?”
“No, I’ll just step outside for a minute to smoke, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, can I go with you?” She grinned.
Gaara said, “I wouldn't have it any other way.”
They went to the backyard and passed a pipe back and forth for about 10 minutes before Sai came out to announce that everything was ready. When he saw what they were up to, Ino passed the pipe to him then went upstairs to grab Inojin while Sai and Gaara stayed outside a little bit longer.
Everyone was all smiles for dinner.
***
He probably should’ve stopped smoking there because maybe then it wouldn’t have made such a mess of his night. But something about the past few hours of ups and downs had him thinking at a hundred miles an hour again, and getting high enough to knock the fuck out was the only real option he felt like considering right now.
So the walk back home cleared his head somewhat, and Gaara made his way about with his head in the clouds and his heart in a graveyard 15 years gone.
The house was quiet when he got home. He kicked off his boots, headed straight to the backyard with his pipe in hand but paused when he caught sight of the photo collage hanging on the living room wall. It almost shone, like a beacon, despite there being no light outside the dim microwave lamps in the kitchen to illuminate it. Gaara didn’t even know what caught his attention about the collage, for a while, and he almost continued on outside without looking at all of them—they were just family photos and stuff—before the last one caught his eye.
(The first one that did was Neji's, of course. This was Naruto and Hinata.)
Among all those photos of family that were so clearly loved, Gaara’s pictures with them had a place, too. It was such a simple thing—a picture, a placement—but to Gaara, tonight, for some reason, that meant the whole world.
Gaara cried quietly as he smoked outside. It was only for a little bit, so he didn’t feel the need to admit it to anybody, but he did cry hard enough to choke. Everything went fuzzy around him then.
“Bed.” Gaara nodded, numbly. He sat outside for a while longer, then made his way slowly inside. His arms and legs felt heavy, as though they were someone else’s limbs, and he wandered upstairs.
He was suddenly very tired of feeling tired. Of feeling like shit. Alone.
Bed was warm. Downright cozy. Hinata’s body heat had heated up everything under the covers so, even though Naruto wasn’t there, she was enough. She was always enough.
Gaara slipped in and slid his arm over her without even thinking about it; he hadn’t meant to disturb her, but she turned over and grumbled in his hold, sleepy and soft, pressed so close to Gaara that he had to catch his breath.
“Mm, hey. Back from dinner? How was it?” she asked. Her lips parted on the slightest frown.
“It was good. I missed you and Naruto, though. Are youokay?” Gaara put his forehead against hers. “You feel hot.”
“Gaara.” Hinata turned a bit, lying on her back, and grabbed Gaara’s hand to trace along the front of her body.
It dawned quickly on him that Naruto hadn’t left Hinata with nothing to remember him by. Their joined fingers sank in between her legs together, making her gasp so sharp that Gaara almost stopped. She felt incredible. Warm and soft and spilling over from Naruto.
But mostly, he was fixed on her closed eyes, her flushed face hiding dried tear stains on her cheeks. “Hinata?” he started, slowing.
“I’m okay,” she said without missing a beat. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes. “Keep on, Gaara, please. Naruto and I missed you, too.”
If she had been crying, the quiver in her voice suggested something else as Gaara’s fingers slid against her. She felt like a dream.
To be fair, though, Hinata was better than anything he could ever dream up in a million years.
***
For some reason, the morning brought with it a strange, glasslike clarity as soon as Gaara opened his eyes.
Last night, even though he felt like shit, he had gone to bed with Hinata. Goddamnit, he'd wanted to, and he really couldn't remember when the last time they'd been together was. (Sex simply wasn't that important to either of them.) It was just that…
Naruto and I missed you, too.
Last night, that photo plus those words had done something to Gaara, realizing he had a place there, but the realization didn't come unburdened. (Home? Him? Belong? Wife? Husband? Family? On and on...) He would probably have liked to be alone with those onerous questions, were it not for Hinata.
She was special to him. She was one of those people that it never taxed him to be around, like Shino. She heartened him instead.
Naruto was special to Gaara, too, but in a very different way. It was probably for the best that he hadn't been there last night.
Unfortunately, however, that's where Gaara's luck ran out, because he should've at least considered by then that when he went to sleep cuddled underneath one Uzumaki, sometimes the other one just popped up.
***
Gaara went back to sleep. First of all, he was warm—squished between his partners, pleasantly warm—and safe and, for once, not irate about anything. He had to hit the head, but that was about it, so he just went back to sleep.
When he woke up, he was alone under the covers, and the light coming in from wherever flushed the room in new gold.
Alone. Again. Why couldn't he ever shake—
The door opened, revealing Naruto's smile.
Gaara's entire body relaxed back into the mattress. Fists he hadn't known he'd clenched flattened out against the sheets.
“Hey. You're awake,” Naruto said.
“You're here,” said Gaara. His eyes stayed trained on Naruto's. As much as he wanted to swallow this serious mood of his, he needed a read on this guy first, more.
Naruto tilted his head a bit as he walked into the room, closed the door behind him, moved right to Gaara's side. “Of course I'm here ya know. I live here.”
“I'm sorry. I just…” Gaara felt lost, for a moment. “What are you doing?”
Pausing before he reached the bed, Naruto took a moment to study Gaara's face before he sighed, laughed once to himself then shrugged out of his jacket. “Eh, mind if I join you, first?”
“Naruto.”
“I'll answer you, I'll answer you,” he said, covers in hand and slipping right in.
Just like that, they were cuddled together as though they'd gone to sleep like that.
“Why are you doing this,” Gaara asked flatly, face to face with Naruto and unbothered. Mostly, he was just warm.
Naruto nudged his nose forward to bump against Gaara's, at the same time winding his arm around his waist. “I told you I'm getting it right, didn't I? That last date we went on was nothing if you'll let me have today.” His arm tightened, squeezing Gaara closer to him somehow. Suddenly solemn. “You're free, right? Please, Gaara…”
Shit.
Gaara felt a little bit like he was choking.
He placed his hand against the back of Naruto's head, not knowing what else to do.
Did it really mean that much to Naruto, that he'd go so far as to ask like that?
Gaara ran his fingers through soft blond hair, and waited. It didn't take long for the smile to return to Naruto's eyes.
“I really don't know why any of you put up with me for so long, honestly, ya know. I can be such an idiot and it takes me forever to catch on to things.”
Only half-listening, Gaara stroked around Naruto's ear with his thumb, cupping it. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, I mean, a couple of things, like I've been thinking a lot about the way I treated you as a kid and I don't really think I ever apologized for that, but also,” Naruto said, blinking, “I don't think I ever told you I love you, Gaara.”
For a moment, all Gaara could do in return was stare. Someone had been thinking very hard about things.
“Um.” He almost fidgeted but just shrugged instead. “It's not that big a deal.”
“Yes, it is ya know. Gaara, listen to me. I love you.”
Now, he did fidget. Words turned down his throat and disintegrated. What could he say to that? For some reason, it didn't feel like he could simply say I love you back.
But he did. It wasn't a question. He did.
“I really do love you,” Naruto said, again, as if to affirm it. Blue eyes were searching. “Is it okay that I say that? Are you okay? I'm sorry?” He laughed, wholly and nervously. “I don't really know what to say anymore, Gaara. Help me out…”
“Ah, you—”
Gaara stopped when Naruto brought a hand up to his own. Naruto's eyes lit up when their hands touched.
“You can tell me that more,” said Gaara, as strong as his raw voice would allow in the short space between them.
That gentle, sunny smile that he loved so much resurfaced, shutting Naruto's eyes over it as he did just that. “I love you, Gaara.”
***
“What did you mean about apologizing for the way you treated me when we were younger?” Gaara asked, a little later.
A few days ago, a line of questioning like that never would've crossed his mind, even if those years leading up to the war were hard forgotten on the best days. Now, not only did bringing it up seem easier than breathing—it hadn't even been his idea in the first place.
Naruto opened his eyes. He'd closed them when he'd started running his hands all over Gaara's body, starting with the long, sensitive spine in his back. There was no pause in his ministrations as he answered thoughtfully. “It's bothered me for a long time, actually, but I guess since you never said anything, I let myself get away with doing nothing about it until I could properly get my thoughts together.”
Then, he did pause. Naruto's eyes bored into Gaara, and his fingers lingered at the small of his back. It didn’t seem purposeful, but rather contemplative.
“I can see why, but I wish…” Hesitantly, he continued, pressed his fingertips against Gaara’s back. “I already know you understand why everything happened, but I don’t like the way I pushed everyone out of my way to accomplish that goal. Do you understand what I’m saying? You, Hinata, Neji…”
The second that name entered the universe, it slipped into its own moment in time. Everything hung still in the air for a moment longer than it should've. Gaara held his breath, waiting for it to pass. Wondering if it would.
Miraculously, between heartbeats, it did, and nothing changed in him.
Naruto brought his hand up against Gaara’s face again. He spoke a little more quietly now, though not too much. “I think I let you all down back then with my behavior. So I wanted to apologize. Yeah, it doesn't change things, but I think it’s important anyway ya know. You don’t even really have to forgive me if you don’t want to. Hinata didn’t, at first.”
That last bit of news was funnier than Gaara was emotionally confused. Unbalanced, it tipped him over into a scoffing laugh.
“You’re kidding. Hinata didn’t forgive you for something?”
“Well, not really. She just made me take a mandatory vacation for a little bit to make up for it before she would.”
Gaara considered their situation with a glance of his eyes down the front of his body—pressed close to Naruto’s under covers in an unlit room well into the late morning light.
“And yet here I already have you all to myself,” he murmured.
With a tender expression, Naruto gathered Gaara in his arms. “You sure do. So what are you gonna do with me ya know?”
Gaara gasped when he landed on top of Naruto, their eyes locked between thin lathes of glowing sunlight. His hands posted up on Naruto’s shoulders to keep him upright—the only real point of separation between them even joining them.
“I have an idea...” Gaara said, unblinking and, perhaps, unbreathing for a bit. “But.”
Naruto’s hands grasped each of his elbows. “Yes?”
Gaara almost hated to ask. Before, he never would have. Before, he wouldn't dream of it. But now, after today… after this week…
“Hinata didn’t really accept that apology of yours, did she?” he asked. His skin felt clammy where it rested against Naruto’s shoulders. “Because there was nothing to apologize for, was there? She would never have anything to forgive you for.”
Naruto’s thumbs began to move in tiny circles at Gaara’s elbows as he answered. “Damn, you know her well.”
“Then you know my answer’s going to be the same. Naruto, I can’t forgive you for something I don’t hold against you. The past is behind us. It can’t hurt us anymore, remember? If it’s important to you that you get closure on this, then I’m happy you came to me to get it, but I also want you to know you don’t have to say sorry for being a stupid kid. We were all stupid kids back then.”
“Gaara, look at me.”
“Huh?” He blinked, finding his lids hot and lashes cool, damp. Startled, he glanced back at Naruto.
“All the same.” Naruto ran a thumb across a tear that had fallen to Gaara’s jaw.
“I’m sorry,” Gaara said. “I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay. I think I’ve cried all over you more than enough times for you to be able to return the favor, sometimes, eh? Go on ahead. We got all day.”
For some reason, that comforted Gaara more than it probably should have, and he cried harder, pressing further down onto Naruto’s body as he gave in to gravity, to dreams, to the last remnants of sadness that he’d allow himself to hold on to.
His elbows buckled, and he folded into Naruto's chest at once; Naruto didn't hesitate to catch him the slightest bit.
***
“So did you intend to spend all day in bed or what?” Gaara asked, tears dried.
Naruto raised his eyebrows at Gaara, teasing and practically swishing his tail if he had one, even down to his tone. “It wasn't the plan, but…”
“Naruto, you—!”
As if they weren't already tangled up in each other, now the blankets secured their legs in a mess, too, as Naruto rolled over on top of Gaara, bracketing him in with a grin.
“I'm great at improvising,” Naruto said into Gaara's neck. A low promise.
Gaara warmed all over. He really didn't stand much of chance, between the sheets and the sun and Naruto and his own selfish, stranded heart.
The same heart that had been steadfastly loved so openly and by so many that he couldn't even think through them at the minute. The same heart that used to be so heavy and now felt so light under the touch of Naruto's hand.
“It's beating so fast again,” Naruto said, voice gentle and awestruck. His eyes fixed on Gaara’s chest as though he could actually watch Gaara’s heart beat beneath his hand.
“Can you feel it?” Gaara asked, disconnected from the action.
As if speechless—looking a little disconnected, himself—Naruto only nodded.
Surely, then, he could feel Gaara's heart give at his easy admission.
In return, Gaara offered an admission of his own. “Thank you for asking Neji to give me a kiss from you. I know it was forever ago, but it's been on my mind lately, and I think I just needed to say that.”
Naruto's gaze drifted up to receive Gaara's with so much open warmth and affection that Gaara almost didn't want to hear what he had to say.
“We've both been keeping feelings to ourselves for too long, huh, Gaara?” Naruto said.
And that—that didn't hurt at all.
“Classic move on my part,” Gaara confessed to the ceiling.
“Well, you say that,” Naruto said, redirecting his attention, “but Gaara, I don't think you see how much you've changed. And I don't just mean this past week here in the village—I’m talking about the way that you worked so hard to be who you are all the time. Everyone who knows you can see it. That's why you're Kazekage. Hinata sees it—it’s why she loves you so much. I can see it. The people in my village are yours, Gaara. Just like I am.”
Naruto ducked down to nuzzle at Gaara's jaw, and said, “And so I can feel it, too, ya know.”
Those connections—bonds they shared—invisible feelings taking form.
Then, Shukaku.
Gaara blinked, looking up into Naruto's face. “That damn war. Shukaku has slept inside both of us ever since.”
“It's not all bad, right? Shukaku is the reason our hearts can connect even more.”
Gaara paused. “A power like that would likely only come in handy in battle, though. Hopefully none we'd have to fight anytime soon.”
“Ah, Gaara!”
Naruto darted back a bit and wrapped Gaara up in both arms, and Gaara clung back to him, overwhelmed in the most welcome way. A feeling he knew well.
They spun atop the mattress for a moment, settling Naruto semi-astride Gaara with covers hopelessly astray.
Naruto went on, bright-eyed. “We have so much in common, I almost forget, sometimes, ya know. Where you when I was discovering my chakra nature, huh? That would've taken a load off if I had your help since we're both Wind nature. Besides, you're all smart like Kakashi-sensei and Captain Yamato. Heh, probably smarter than those two old men by now.”
Thinking, pulled down a train of thought, he set a hand to his chin and glanced to the window over Gaara's head.
“Oh, I don't know about that,” Gaara said. “But I'm not sure if I would've been any good back then, anyway. Everything kinda runs together and… gets hazy, from so long ago. I think I was really focused on my recovery and the village, at that point. It's probably good you didn't rely on me.”
Naruto's eyes returned to Gaara's; they were serious, even though his words were teasing.
“No, I definitely think I should've relied on you more. But you already told me not to apologize for things like that, so let's see…”
He ducked in quick to press his lips to Gaara's chin.
“I guess I'll say thanks, instead. For everything.”
Gaara exhaled. “Naruto…”
“Yes?” Naruto tried to move—probably to look at Gaara's face; he loved eye contact—but Gaara kept him still with both hands against his back.
Feeling resistance, Naruto lay gently back down on top of Gaara, still with his face pressed between Gaara's neck and shoulder. It was warm enough to be hot.
“Gaara?” Naruto continued. “Need something?”
Yeah. That was probably it, huh?
Naruto could make all the grand speeches he wanted about how the love of the people around him had changed him and whatever else—and while that was true—it was the specific kind of love he got from the specific people he'd chosen to have in his life that helped heal the wound his isolation, self-flagellation and misery had created.
The rest was on him. And he could do that now. With Naruto's comforting arms around him, love filling him where only nightmares had been before, Gaara felt such a simple kind of peace.
He was full. Not of food or beer. He'd received something from so many people while being unable to feel half of it, and now it finally felt like he might be able to.
On his last day here, the darkness curling before every thought and idea fell in designs Gaara could finally understand. It wasn't a big, scary thing to do away with—some evil presence that told him lies and stole him away from family and friends.
The darkness was just a different part of him that he hadn't understood before, and taking some time out to understand it more made him feel even fuller.
He'd just needed a little help starting off. Maybe more than most, who could tell.
***
“I thought the plan was to spend all day in bed,” Gaara said. He was already sweaty from the humidity of the day falling around them with no sign of a breeze in sight.
Nevertheless, though, Naruto held his hand.
“We can do that anytime. Right now, I wanna go to the dojo.”
“I'm not opposed, but…” Gaara glanced around them.
There were only a few people strolling around, and no one was paying them any more mind than they were paying anyone else around them.
Naruto noticed. “It really has been a while since we've visited each other. We don't have to hold hands if you're not comfortable.”
“It's not that…” Gaara turned back to Naruto. “I just don't think it would be seemly for the Hokage to get his ass handed to him in plain sight of the people he's supposed to protect. That's all.”
Naruto clutched at his heart with his free hand, while his fingers tightened around Gaara's. “Oh is that what's gonna happen?”
“You're not as invulnerable as you think. You forget, I know all your weaknesses.”
“Well, I know yours,” Naruto said.
“That you do,” Gaara said back.
They made it to the dojo. It was empty inside, to their surprise. The stale air filled the space with a chill.
Shrugging out of his jacket, Naruto glanced around. “I guess Lee didn't have any classes or sessions this morning. Did he take the day off?”
“Not sure. Should I message him?”
“Nah, I'll bother him about it later ya know. Right now—” A smile entered his voice as he stared at Gaara. “You promised to hand me my ass, didn't you?” he asked, hand out.
Gaara considered it for a moment before sloughing his own jacket off. “I guess I did.”
He took Naruto's hand.
They faced each other in the middle of the dojo and made the union sign.
Then they fought, a little bit. No one even interrupted.
***
Everything was back to the way it had been the whole week long shortly after that. Naruto returned to work, and Gaara returned home to Hinata the next morning.
“The kids are going to be off today,” she said, when Gaara came downstairs. “Just thought I'd warn you.”
“Sounds like fun.” He made himself some tea, as usual.
“Does it?”
“Yeah, I'll get to hang out with them again before I leave tonight. Maybe I'll make them a meal or something.”
Hinata was silent for long enough to grab Gaara's attention.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“It’s nothing. But I have a lunch date to run to, so I called Kakashi over to look after the kids. I didn't think you'd want to bother.”
“It's no trouble. We can tackle them together. I don't mind.”
“You're sure?”
“Sure, why not? I'm already packed, anyway. It'll be good to see Kakashi for longer than a few minutes, too.”
“Oh, okay.” Hinata smiled.
Gaara went to stand by her side and enjoy the rest of their quiet morning together before anyone else could join in.
***
It was Kakashi's idea to move to the backyard. Boruto's energy couldn't be contained once he got Kakashi to agree to watch him practice a new technique, but it was Himawari would stole that spotlight when she started in on some gentle fist with Boruto.
Gaara laughed through the stress of seeing the kids trade blows. They were a long way from what the Hyuga had been—at least, in this regard.
“Hima? Could you come be my partner, now?” Kakashi asked, one hand hidden in his pocket, while the other extended to her.
Delighted, Himawari switched partners for a bit before getting bored and going inside to find a game to play. Boruto followed.
Gaara looked at Kakashi, but he only shrugged.
“I don't understand kids’ minds or energy reserves,” he said, “I’m just happy to take care of them.”
Gaara laughed. “You're right about that.”
A strong breeze blew by as they returned inside the house to watch the kids.
“I think I'm going to make them some lunch. Would you like anything?” Gaara said.
“Hmm, lunch sounds great. Need any help with it?”
“No, I don't think so. Just make sure the kids are cleaned up by the time I'm done.”
“What are you making?”
A flash of Lee's brilliant smile sliced through his mind; his answer.
“I'm thinking something simple—you know, like curry.”
“I love the sound of that.” Kakashi smiled.
***
Hinata wasn't gone long, and Kakashi left after she came back.
Boruto and Himawari were then allowed to hang out with their friends for the rest of the day, so Hinata and Gaara found themselves alone.
He stepped close to her and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Did you have a good day out?”
“I did. I hope Boruto and Himawari were okay.”
“They were great… They asked me about Neji.”
“W-what? Why would they do that?”
Gaara turned to face the collage of photos overlooking the dining table. “I couldn't take my eyes off those photos…”
Realization dawned in Hinata's eyes before they even followed his line of sight. “Boruto and Himawari never even met got to meet him. They love to ask questions about him, if they know someone has more information than they do.”
“I see,” Gaara said. He studied the collection of pictures for a moment longer, fixated and contemplative. “Well, it was okay. I don't think I mind talking about it anymore. I don't feel so… heavy…”
Hinata brought her fingers to his face, turning it toward her. “I know. I can see it in you. You finally found love, Gaara.”
“I don't know. Maybe. It feels like it, for right now.”
“Eh, that's all that really matters, anyway.”
“Right,” Gaara said. Laughed.
“So, are you ready? I'm taking you to the station.”
“I think… I'd like to make a pitstop first.” He took Hinata's hand and kissed it.
***
A long while later—longer than he'd planned on—Gaara and Hinata headed to the Hokage Office, hand in hand. Hinata's gaze kept fixed on the horizon in front of them, while Gaara admittedly couldn't keep from sneaking glances at her.
Even under a dusky sky, Hinata was blushing. Gaara didn't fare too much better, but at least that meant she couldn't pay him any attention.
Really, it was as though they hadn't been married for the past 10 years, lovestruck as they were.
Naruto picked up on it as soon as they made it to the Office; he dismissed everyone, except for Shikamaru, who refused, until relenting with a promise that he'd be back later. Shit knew there was some work outside the office that he could tend to.
When the three of them were finally alone, Naruto tipped back in his chair and studied Gaara and Hinata’s hands still linked together. “Come to say bye?” he asked.
“If you’d rather strike a pose in your chair, then I can be on my way, instead,” Gaara said. He never saw Naruto move so fast as he did in the next moment to approach the two of them.
Naruto swept his arms out wide to wrap around both Gaara and Hinata. From beside him, Gaara heard Hinata let out a little sigh.
He relaxed into the embrace, too.
“You guys smell the same, ya know. I’m really jealous,” Naruto mumbled.
Hinata moved to bring her free arm around Naruto’s back; Gaara smoothed his hand into Naruto’s hair. Surprising even himself, he continued until Naruto leaned up to catch his eyes.
“I’ll try to visit when you’re less busy, next time,” he said.
Almost in sync, Hinata retracted her hand from Gaara’s and slipped out from under Naruto, stepping behind him instead, as he concentrated on Gaara.
Naruto’s eyes darkened, serious. “I’m gonna make it up to you—soon, okay, Gaara?”
“Don’t rush on my behalf, but if you insist…” Gaara shrugged, trying to gauge how he felt. Pretty even keel, right now.
“I do,” Naruto said.
Gaara’s heart fluttered, nearly as bad as when he’d been walking here with Hinata.
Again: as though he and Naruto hadn’t been married for over a decade.
From somewhere behind Naruto—Gaara’s vision had sort of tunneled, focused alone on what was in front of him—the touch of Hinata’s fingers found their way back into Gaara’s hand and squeezed, soft.
His heart skipped ahead, even faster.
He took it all in for a second before closing his eyes, breathing in and pressing his lips to Naruto’s.
It felt fresh, the desire to give back some of the love he now kept forever locked and cherished within him. Of course, a kiss could never come close to covering the depth of his feelings, but, as with anything worth making an effort for, it was one step of many more to come.
Gaara grasped Hinata’s hand just a little bit tighter, then pushed himself as far into Naruto’s arms as he could. The heat of the space separating them suddenly spiked.
If it were a kiss like any other, Naruto probably would’ve pressed his advantage—his favorite thing to do, some days—but instead, Gaara found him subdued under his tongue.
Naruto let himself be swept away by Gaara.
It could’ve gone on like that forever, for all Gaara knew—or cared about—what was happening around them. Only the sharp, hard knock at the door scattered them apart. Like they’d gotten caught doing something inappropriate.
Considering the message two and a half Kage meeting in private sent to onlookers—that they were working, not making out—that could be true, after all.
“That’s Shikamaru, already?” Hinata asked, the most composed of them.
Gaara straightened his shoulders and took a painstaking step backward. Air flooded between him and the pair of Naruto and Hinata, who now stood at Naruto’s side. They looked as good together as they ever had.
Sometime not too long ago, a thought like that would’ve inspired his constant fear of loneliness, but Gaara thought back to the house they shared, where a collection of photos existed where he was standing between them, next to them, and he looked just as good with them. He could be content and secure in that without feeling guilt over—anything, anymore.
“I guess I do have a lot of work left to do,” Naruto said, frowning.
“Then don’t let me stop you. It’s about time I head for the station, anyway. It’s late enough as it is.”
Hinata glanced over her shoulder at the mess of Naruto’s desk, then at Naruto. He shrugged with a stupid smile, endearing as ever.
She faced Gaara again. “I’m going to stay here and help him catch up a bit, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” he said—aware, now, that he’d expected it. “I think I’ll enjoy the walk alone. It’s a beautiful afternoon. Spend it together.”
Before he left, he gave Hinata and Naruto each a farewell kiss then turned for the door.
“I’ll see you soon, Gaara. Don't forget.”
“Yeah, I know.”
***
By leaving at 4 pm, although it meant cutting his last day in Konoha short, Gaara managed to make it back to Suna with enough daylight left to catch up with Kankuro over an early dinner. He went straight to Kankuro’s from the train station, bags and all, just so he could hear what he’d missed while he was gone.
On the ride back, he kept thinking of every promise he’d made over the past week, every reason to look forward to the time ahead, and he smiled.
“It sounds like things have gone smoothly,” he said when he was finished with his simple meal of roasted chicken and veggies with rice, and wine.
To celebrate his safe, sane return. Kankuro’s words. Gaara had simply accepted.
“I told you, ja,” Kankuro said. He looked relaxed in all black sweats with his classic animal-eared hood rumpled where either fell over his back. “Your village isn’t helpless without you, and you can trust other people more often. Right?”
Gaara pushed his wineglass over the table. “Right. I know. Thank you for everything. Really—I know you hate all the red tape that being Kazekage comes with—even for a week. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
It was quiet for a moment, but Kankuro only let out a soft, affectionate laugh. “You big dope. I’m just doin’ what a big brother oughta, ja. But I guess I am glad that you’re feeling better now. I missed ya, you know.”
“Yeah… I did, too.” Gaara cleared his throat. “I am sorry.”
Kankuro waved it off. “Like I said. Just lookin’ out for my family. Both you and Temari—always act like you can take on the world. I mean, yeah, you can, but you don’t have to. And you never will.” He stretched then grabbed their mostly empty plates to place in the sink. “As long as I’m here, ja.”
Another quiet moment passed—while Gaara grappled with a flash of memory from childhood, himself sandy and small and all alone in a kingdom of his own making with Kankuro standing always far away, under shadows, behind Father.
He forced the thought away. Kankuro didn’t carry stale, crimeless guilt around like he did.
All the same, Gaara took a drink of wipe and said, “You’re the best brother anyone could ask for. You know that?”
The sound of rushing water sprouted from the kitchen sink as dishes settled in suds. The next sound was Kankuro’s laugh again—the same one from before, filled with gentleness, warmth.
“Of course, I do. I’ve known that like, forever.”
***
On his way home for the first time that night—around 6:30 or 7 pm—Gaara’s phone went off while he was checking the time.
Heard you’re back in town. Can we get together tomorrow? It’s my last day in the village and I can’t imagine visiting all this way before seeing you.
Gaara’s heart soared—anticipating their meeting before even accepting. It was Shira, who had left the Sand to grow his knowledge of taijutsu and only returned once every few years. In fact, they most often ran into each other while out on missions that brought them far from their respective homes, to common ground.
They made plans for the next day, and Gaara immediately told Matsuri about it. Since she and Yukata ran alternate weapons training courses, the short notice wouldn’t bother them, and besides—when was the last time the group of them had been able to meet up like this?
He was in high spirits crossing the threshold into his home, at last. Hearing the door, the scrambling of feet echoed down the hall until Shinki, Araya and Yodo made their appearance.
“Hi, guys,” Gaara said, before they descended on him.
Araya silently grabbed the suitcase he brought with him, while Shinki dove in asking whatever question he could think of, and Yodo went straight for a hug.
Gaara laughed, surrounded by the three of them. “You’ve all gone on missions longer than I was gone for. Did you miss me that much?”
Yodo and Shinki pulled unimpressed faces as they regained their space and composure, but Araya, even with his face covered by his kabuki mask, just shrugged, blasé about it.
“Pretty much,” he said.
“Araya!” Yodo said his name in protest.
“Did you have a good trip, Father?” Shinki asked Gaara, ignoring the other two.
Gaara glanced down at his children—as much as Boruto and Himawari were, these were his kids—and smiled. “I sure did. Nowhere near as good a time as you three had without me around, I bet.”
Shinki crossed his arms in a dignified manner. “Nothing that would disgrace the clan, of course.”
Yodo rolled her eyes and shoved him in the shoulder. “Don’t lie! You were playing phone pranks like, an hour ago.”
Araya snickered at Shinki’s reddening face.
“See?” Gaara said. “Loads more fun than I had. Come on, you three, let’s wind down for the night. It’s getting late. Have you eaten already?” he asked as they migrated down the hall to the living room.
“Sure did,” Araya said.
“We all made dinner together, since we didn’t know what time you were going to be home,” Yodo said.
“It was just curry,” Shinki said.
“Yeah, but like, really good curry.”
“True.” Araya adjusted his mask on his face. “Better than Uncle Kankuro makes. His is always so mild.”
Gaara thought back a few days, and instantly was enveloped in a gentle, conciliatory warmth. “Oh, so it was spicy, then? If that’s the case, I bet I know a place that you guys’d probably like to check out. Next time I go to the Land of Fire, I’ll take you all. Sound like a plan?”
Yodo’s eyes glittered. “The best. We might even get to see Sarada again.”
“Ah, they asked about you while I was with them. Konohamaru is thinking of having them make a trip over here to come see you and study up.”
“So, they’ll get to come here, and we’ll get to come with you on your next trip?” Shinki asked.
“Well, depends on where I’m going and I have to do there, but sure,” Gaara said. “I missed you guys while I was gone, too, you know.”
***
Waking up to his own life, in his own bed, was almost strange the next morning. But as much as it was strange, Gaara felt peaceful. He had his date with Shira, Matsuri and Yukata to look forward to, and no shortage of work was sure to have piled up in his absence, no matter how well Baki and Kankuro stayed on top of things.
All welcome thoughts. Where they would’ve caused anxiety to spike in him, now he looked to the day feeling prepared. Panic attacks and dissociative episodes could still be in his future—he hadn’t been cured of anything, that was for certain—but the prospect of that didn’t burden him like some terrible given.
He just thought… he could probably handle it a little better now that his head was in a better place. That was all.
It was still a dark, brightening blue outside when Gaara had opened his eyes. He took a moment to settle into his sense of self, so hard to grasp first thing in the morning, and breathed as deliberately as he could to bring himself awake.
The light out his window paled. He’d have to rise soon—begin his day, get back to the hustle and bustle.
He flipped the covers back and padded into the bathroom to take care of his morning routine.
Fifteen minutes later, he returned to bed, long enough to sit on the edge of the mattress after tugging on a shirt. He took a deep breath to strip away the last of the laziness lingering in his body and stretched his hands back to support him as he leaned back.
Tap tap tap came from the window.
Gaara tensed, glancing over to find a messenger bird flapping away at his window.
Normally, messenger birds went straight to the aviary they’d been trained to find in every village, so Gaara made his way to the window in full curiosity mode. (There was no real fear for his life—the bird was friendly enough to know which window in the house was his, after all. No enemy intel would be able to supply that kind of information—not after Deidara.) He didn’t recognize the bird though it looked somewhat familiar.
With one hand, Gaara unlocked and opened his window. The bird descended on his windowsill with relief in its ruffling wings.
He took the small scroll attached to its leg, pet it from head to down feathers then sent it off to the aviary where it could get some rest.
The scroll weighed so little in his hand. He turned it until black ink stared up at him—his name in handwriting he didn’t see often enough to recognize. Slowly, heart thrashing, Gaara peeled back the top corner of the scroll then unraveled it, all at once.
A cloud of grey smoke sizzled out from the center, blocking whatever kanji had been written there, until Gaara tossed the scroll to the floor.
Seconds later, a figure appeared, silhoutted against all that smoke, a shape that Gaara knew better than his own.
“Naruto?! What are you doing here?”
It was Naruto, all right, all 6 feet of him, blazing orange jacket and everything. “What, no ‘welcome home’?” he said, smiling shyly.
“Welcome home, you idiot! Now what are you doing here?”
“Come, Gaara, you’re making me really nervous ya know. Didn’t I tell you before I left that I was gonna make it up to you?”
He took glances around the room—rather than look at Gaara—which cemented the fact that he was indeed nervous. Even a light flush crept up under his collar to color his face, blood under brown skin.
“I figured this was better than any stupid letter, right? We’re not kids anymore, and I’m not afraid to ask you for a kiss myself, so…” Naruto dusted off his cuffs and pants even though they were already clean. Then, steeling himself, he returned eye contact. “Will you accept me, this time?”
Although Gaara wanted to laugh, it wouldn’t leave his throat. Everything he wanted to say kept getting caught there.
So instead, he reached his hand out and stepped in as close as he could get, and whispered out the only thing that would come to mind.
“I do. I always have.”
Naruto clasped Gaara’s outstretched hand, squeezed it in his; a measure of their hearts, racing.
“I love you, Gaara. Say I didn’t come at a bad time. Say I can take you to bed, even if only for a little bit, ya know.” Naruto’s voice came out as whispered as Gaara’s had.
Neither of them dared to break the quiet that fell over them. The room was full of it—of friction.
Gaara had a feeling he’d seen the last of his nightmares, for a little while.
Speechless, he nodded into Naruto’s shoulder.
Everything would be all right.