Fic Title Meme asks (that keep turning into mini fics so they're on here now too)

Summary: Kiba is an enigma, all rough edges that are soft to the touch, but as much as Gaara loves him, keeping Kiba would be keeping a beautiful butterfly trapped in a jar with no air.

Gaara can't hold onto Kiba.

Gaara can't keep someone as special as Kiba.

(This is heavily hinting at reincarnated!Kiba… just roll with it…)


Gaara looks up through the window, up at the thousands of stars, at the moon, at the endless black void that stares back and wonders why he's here. He wonders why he's Kazekage, why he's alive, why Kiba loves him so, how Kiba can sit with him for hours and claim he's content.

Kiba looks out the window too. Akamaru's enormous body three quarters in his lap, wagging his tail lazily and Kiba is barely visible among the fur.

Gaara looks at Kiba's face and sees a strange fondness in his eyes. Ironic, that Kiba, someone who's lived among the trees and so full of life can find love for the sand, can find love for him.

"Do not feel like you have to stay," Gaara finds himself saying although it feels distant, far away.

Kiba is a ball of light, a star that's always shining. Kiba is a smart, strong and kind and all the things that people never see in him. He lives like he's lived a thousand times before, looking upon everything with an understanding that Gaara longs for.

Kiba growls, tears through skin like paper and he bites and scratches his enemies like something feral and inhuman.

Kiba seems a hundred years older than his body sometimes and yet sometimes it's like he's seeing the world for the first time.

Kiba is an enigma, all rough edges that are soft to the touch, but as much as Gaara loves him, keeping Kiba would be keeping a beautiful butterfly trapped in a jar with no air.

Gaara can't hold onto Kiba.

Gaara can't keep someone as special as Kiba.

Kiba looks over at him, half his face pressed into Akamaru's fur, and Gaara can tell Kiba understands Gaara doesn't mean just right now, can tell Gaara means he doesn't want to hold Kiba down.

"I like it here," he says, his voice light and calm as always. "But if you want me to leave I will."

Gaara tries to search his face for anything, but emotions have always been confusing, unlike to Kiba who seems to feel so much Gaara wonders how he can handle it.

Kiba just looks at him with those same kind eyes and Gaara's sweating, his head hurts and he wants to cry.

Gaara doesn't deserve him. Gaara wants him more than anything but he doesn't deserve him.

Gaara is a desert, dry and empty and devoid of all life. Kiba is a forest. Kiba is old trees with a million stories to tell that would push the limits of his imagination and Kiba is a flower blooming, basking in the sunlight for the first time.

"Will you stay?" Gaara asks and it comes out so quiet, so broken.

"I'll stay for as long as you need," Kiba says, tapping the side of his nose. He leans over a little until his head is resting on Gaara's shoulder, pulling Akamaru along with him. "I'll stay with you until I die."

Gaara lets out a startled breath he didn't realise he was holding, his whole body alights in a kind of hope he so desperately wanted to feel, only too scared to.

"I've been here for this long haven't I?"

Kiba's weight on his shoulder is the best thing he's felt for longer than he can remember. Kiba wants to stay with him. Kiba refuses to leave, and there's a part of him that feels so, so awful that he's got this beautiful man to himself, but Kiba loves him. Kiba loves him.

"Maybe it is silly for me to love the sand so much," Kiba whispers and Akamaru lets out an amused noise. "But I've never really cared much for that stuff."

Gaara coughs into his hand, trying to hide the emotions that are bubbling inside of him - happiness that he has never felt before and love like the rising sun peeking over the buildings of Suna after a sandstorm. It's beautiful and perfect and Gaara wants to hold onto this moment and never let go.

Gaara's never loved anyone before, not like this but Kiba has the eyes of someone who's loved a million times before. Had his heart crushed an spat on and yet, this man, full of so much life, chose Gaara.

Gaara feels a tear roll down his cheek, and a small, weak smile on his lips. The tears are wet and slimy, cool on his face But, as Kiba entertwines their fingers and Gaara lets himself rest against Kiba's body, he cries tears of happiness.