Characters: Naruto, Gaara
Timeframe: A snippet from Endless Blue
Setting: One of the higher rooms in Infinity Fortress (the one from Endless Blue)
Comments: This takes place in the timeframe for Endless Blue somewhere
between chapter 24 and chapter 25.
Disclaimer/Warning: No characters are mine / This is rated M for a reason.
It's cool. Mostly because it's the night, but partly because it's slightly windy. It's not exactly a draft, but it can't be called a zephyr either. In fact, there's almost no movement of the cool air. Perhaps it's better this way. He likes the heat.
Gaara's body is pale and modest, splayed out on the sheets like spilled paint. His curves are slight and his frame is small, but there is nothing weak or frail about him.
His hair is accented by the moonlight pouring in from the emptiness where there once was a wall. A hole adorns that space, providing for plenty of cool night air as their bodies generate more than enough heat--with the wind gently kissing their backs, their art can be conducted with maximum pleasure. It's not that Gaara doesn't like the heat--he grew up in the deserts where scorching sands raised him impervious to any other source of fire. Gaara likes the heat, likes the way Naruto's body comes alive and burns for him, likes the way the breath from the blonde's lips is ragged and hot on his neck as he brings their bodies together, likes the rush of their pulses pounding beneath their skin, the intense rhythm between them silent and thundering.
Gaara likes the heat.
But there's something about the eclipse of hot and cold--that so-hot-it's-cold burn that freezes the skin even though it's searing--that Gaara likes even more.
Naruto is golden and humble in a different way, even though he's sprawled out along the delicate but decidedly not fragile frame of the boy beneath him, careful yet dangerous. His build is by far the more muscular of the two, and larger, too. He is dangerous for Gaara, because the redhead is dangerous for him tonight, too. Violet eyes don't gaze but rather glance lustily at the figure beneath him, pale and writhing and beautiful.
Clothing had been an obstacle long since removed; naked as the day they were born, the two demi-demons tear at each other's mouths as if they were battling instead of making love.
Gaara wonders briefly what it was that caused the two of them to tumble into bed so violently as he catches a glimpse of the unfortunate sheets beneath them; the once-white cloth is matted with dirt and blood and spit and their scent and is ripped and torn in several places. But then Naruto's crushing their lips together, and he forgets to wonder.
A fist finds its way to the back of Naruto's neck, nails raking downwards along a broad back as the head moves up to elude his grasp. The blonde has the advantage, and is making full use of being on top. It hasn't saved his arms from several new scars as the redhead rakes his biceps mercilessly, furious at being on his back. The gashes heal as quickly as the redhead can tattoo his fierce lover. Naruto shows no sign of notice, just digs his grave deeper, growling low in the back of his throat and using his larger weight to hold the other boy to the bed, grinding their hips and implementing a tongue that seems trained in the art of reducing his partner to almost painful gasps and whimpers. Gaara quivers beneath him, not at all because of the chill kiss of the wind on their bare bodies. It's the blonde's lips that cause him to shudder, that coax his body to slowly warm and writhe, and he feels his temperature rise, heat blossoming inside him as if someone was slowly setting him on fire. His fingertips become too numb to respond to Naruto's kisses. They tingle and he feels them twitch mechanically, but they aren't much help when he tries to grip the blonde mane that crowns the beast pinning him down. Instead, they serve to spur him on, and the redhead lets out a breathy cry as Naruto introduces his ear to a talented tongue.
His shoulders are moving without his consent, and it's embarrassing the way he's laughing in the back of his throat like that, all deep and husky and sexy. Naruto's violet eyes sparkle in mirth as he goes down. He approaches the task of tasting every inch of the ivory skin with a certain politeness that's foreign to him before abandoning the pretense and he goes at it with a passion. Gaara rolls his eyes before his lids flutter at the sudden rush. Blood flows to his face with a will and he can feel the fight slowly being coaxed out of him. He decides he'll clock Naruto later for reducing him to accepting the position he's in. The blonde is sloppy, but effective. Both boys are aware that Gaara's itching for control, and Naruto is working to keep him on fire, to keep him buzzed and tingling so that he can't get a proper grip on his shoulders and attempt to flip the larger boy over. Naruto knows control isn't going to be handed to him, and he's glad for it. It's taking all his strength to keep the boy's hips in place as he moves, it's effort that elicits those breathy pants from a growling mouth. Jade eyes flicker yellow as the tongue dips lower. He's moved down now, and Gaara could sit up now and pounce if only his back muscles would respond, but he can't feel anything but the strong hands holding his hips down and the warm breath that's ghosting down his torso, passing further and further south.
He's gripping the torn bloodied sheets, his chest rising and falling in a pattern of uncertainty. This is new territory--this wasn't on the map, or even off the map. This was a new map, one Gaara hadn't even known existed until--
Jade eyes widen and flicker completely yellow for an instant as the world seems to disappear. For a moment he's swallowed by darkness, struck dumb in every sense but tactile. Naruto is silent except for the sounds of saliva and slickness and Gaara's legs jerk uneasily.
Perhaps he's trying to make up for reducing the redhead to being on his back. Gaara's not lucid enough to accept or understand the motion, but he can gasp.
The sky eventually becomes blurry again and slowly phases back into view as Gaara recovers from the initial shock, but it begins to blur again as Naruto moves. It occurs to Gaara that he should ask what the fox taught him about his tongue before coherent thought is excused from his mind. The tingle that prohibited his fingers from being useful before has spread to his entire body and he's trembling, needy and angry that he can't demand Naruto go faster because he's just not sure what the blonde is doing to rob him of control of his body. He isn't sure, but he knows that Naruto understands his frustrated groan just fine because whatever he's been doing suddenly gets much better.
Gaara can no longer groan at all--he feels a pair of fingers trace along the base of his spine and he arches beautifully against the bed, pale and perspiring and white-knuckled as he grips the sheets so violently that they'd crumble to dust had they been rocks.
He tears at the sheets, unable to control his hips as Naruto works his magic, and is slightly horrified when he feels the warmth disappear, because for a moment, he seriously contemplates killing the boy in retaliation.
But Naruto is nothing if not generous in his apologies.
He's atop the pale figure now, a warm hand making ready an equally warm place with wet fingers--and Gaara arches again, unsure of when Naruto had time to moisten his fingers or where the wetness came from--but it's inside him and it's hot, and he is so vulnerable on his back. He has time to bite out a curse before his mouth is invaded by that tongue he's so curious about. It reduces the word-forming ability of Gaara's mouth to absolute zero before Naruto breaks their kiss, giving the jade-eyed boy a secretive look as if he knows Gaara wants to ask how he just did that and won't tell. It's infuriating, and Gaara doesn't have time to be furious. There are two fingers now, both wet and moving and hot.
If he had been on his belly (and then Naruto would REALLY be dead) he would've looked like he was crawling. Naruto didn't grasp the concept of exactly how lucky it was that Gaara was not face-down on the sheets right now. It didn't do any better that he was belly-up, but at least he was facing his opponent.
He's about to snarl at Naruto some command when his mouth reminds him that it has lost the ability to form coherent words. His eye twitches in irritation at the inconvenient loss of speech, but gives Naruto a clear enough message with the growl that sounds a lot more feral and challenging than he'd planned.
Suddenly he's thrust against the headboard, the bed shudders beneath them, and his mouth is open in a silent gasp as the blonde makes a bold move, both of their bodies electrified at the new sensation. The violet-eyed boy is chest-to-chest with Gaara, and the rhythm is interrupted for a moment.
He still feels vulnerable on his back.
It's the look in Gaara's eyes that prompts Naruto to keep going.
The wind is back now, but it's gentle, aware of the situation. Gaara is breathing hard, and Naruto has changed the rhythm, but Gaara is sure that he can keep up. He's not fragile, and Naruto won't break him.
Jagged spikes of pain and pleasure strike deep as Naruto moves enough for both of them, panting as if he's sparring, sweating enough to convince Gaara that they were, and then he's biting Gaara's neck like he wants to tear out a chunk of flesh. The redhead digs his claws--somewhere along the way, his fingers had gotten a lot pointier--deep into Naruto's back, but it has the unintentional effect of speeding up the slamming, and Gaara can only arch into the golden figure that thrusts. His breathing is wild and uncontrolled now, his pulse is racing like wildfire, the uncertain beat accelerating past comprehension as the rhythm continues to change, going faster and faster. The moon is a blur in the sky above them, and the wind has almost forgotten to blow, but Gaara can feel its antagonizing kiss, too chaste on their skin, as their bodies meet with an incredible force, the power behind Naruto's thrusts blinding him momentarily.
Gaara tries vainly to squirm into some new position, anything but being laid out on his back, but that excites Naruto further, and he's pounding the redhead now, really driving him into the mattress. Something tears at Gaara's skin, and he's faintly aware of the pain in his shoulder. He questions the metallic tang of Naruto's next kiss, but says nothing as it's massaged into his tongue. He forgets for a moment and tries to stroke the blonde's hair and is bucked so hard he feels his head ram into the headboard. It shudders, as if to snap, but does not. Naruto is faintly aware of the skip of the beat, and Gaara snarls as the thrusts slow. If he's not allowed to be gentle then neither is Naruto. The blonde is apologetic for only a moment longer before Gaara tears at him with claws and canines that are a little too long, reminding him that the rhythm has been interrupted.
It takes a fraction of an instant for Naruto to recognize the jeopardy of his position before he forces Gaara back down, driving the boy's shoulders into the mattress with vigor and resuming his thrusts with a snarl that's almost a roar. His partner arches beneath him but gives the blonde a look that promises scars that won't heal should he stop again.
They don't kiss again because that slowed them down. Now it's hot, now the fire eclipses the wind as Naruto rushes against the redhead, an unspoken and yet unfulfilled promise between them that he works at with a passion. Gaara is testing him, writhing and clawing at him and biting his shoulder and snarling like an animal, but Naruto is rewarded with several gasps that he knows are his doing as he watches Gaara's eyes narrow and widen and slam shut accordingly with his thrusts. The redhead shakes his head in fury and ecstasy and exposes his throat to his partner as he throws back his head.
Naruto isn't sure he's won, but he can recognize that things are looking in his favor as Gaara's clawing is reduced. Now he's hanging on, panting and holding Naruto's shoulders in a death-grip, but he's not clawing anymore.
Their chests meet with a maddening friction, strong muscles terse and not at all soft. There's nothing soft about the art; neither is gentle, and if either show signs of fragility, they'll immediately be crushed under the weight of the other. It could go either way, should one of them appear for even a second as if they were breakable. They're not, though. Gaara is gasping breathily but the grip on Naruto's shoulders would crush a normal man's chest cavity instantly. Naruto is panting and thrusting and growling low in his throat, well aware of the discord things could easily fall into. He's certain that he can win, but he can't stop or relent or there's no telling what will happen. The blonde doesn't like the promise he saw in Gaara's eyes before. He's fully prepared to fuck the other boy senseless if it'll wipe the memory of the instant from his mind.
Gaara's breath hitches as the intensity, if it's possible, increases. The temperature has skyrocketed, and the heat is suffocating. Naruto is panting, but Gaara has forgotten to breathe, clutched to Naruto's chest. Neither is allowed the luxury of relaxation. This is working, but it is work.
And Naruto's face is buried against Gaara's neck, the pale boy's face facing the heavens that greedily accept wishes and promises on their sparkling stars without promising back to fulfill anything. The moon is hidden behind too many clouds, and Gaara feels there should've been a feeling beside wistfulness before his senses are blotted out by a flash of absolute fulfillment.
Naruto is better than any shooting star.
There are a few empty thrusts but they both know the rhythm has been broken off. It's not discord, and Naruto is grateful for the end of the mad dance to arrive. It's been long and demanding, but Gaara is sprawled out beneath him, his death-grip on Naruto's shoulders has slackened and he's completely focused on breathing right now.
Violet eyes smile down at his partner. This time, the yellow-jade eyes don't bite back, but flutter in weariness.
Naruto doesn't blame him.
He comes up to lap at the boy's open mouth and is batted away but it's half-hearted, and Naruto bites back a chuckle. Gaara has resigned to being on his back; he's too tired to turn over or move at all. But he does look a little less irked when the blonde pulls out and shifts him onto his side.
It's a gesture of apology again, but this time it's accepted.
The fox-demon curls into the pale boy's back, purring softly in the back of his throat. Gaara is glad for the vibrations; they're still warm but the intensity of the heat is dying away. It's the wind's turn to eclipse the heat as it steals the warmth from their bodies. The loss is gradual but constant. The tug of the cold causes a shiver to run down Gaara's spine, and Naruto notes briefly that there are no scars on Gaara's body. If not for the fox's insane healing abilities, Naruto was certain that he would have been reduced to a pile of confetti by now. He's very, very glad for his inhuman healing abilities as he traces the pale boy's skin with fingers that have lost their pointy-ness.
And now the rhythm is slow but steady. Their hearts thud gently in the night against the cages of their chests, Gaara's to the cool night air and Naruto's pounding into his back. The boys cheek is like a sunspot on Gaara's back and he murmurs into the shredded sheets, something incomprehensible to human ears. Naruto's anything but human, and crawls over the boy accordingly, pressing him into the sheets again. Gaara isn'y saying anything about being on his back again because the great lump of an idiot that's on top of him is WARM, damnit. Doesn't stop Naruto from giving his lover a grin. He know he deserves the glare he's getting.
In something of apology, the blonde murmurs gentle words into Gaara's shoulder, his breath warm and coasting along the neck of the boy who refuses to complain because that would stop the idiot from talking and for once it's a good thing. He lets the blonde go on and makes a gentle purr of his own, turning his cheek to press against the warmth of the blonde's body.
Naruto almost stops talking. Gaara growls. Almost.
The words are soft but Gaara can hear them. He doesn't quite care what they mean, all that matters is that Naruto is against him and around him and inside him and it's warm here. Warm like sand. He knows he's home here.
His chest is moving in a steady pattern. The maps are new, but at least they've been put on the table and tampered with. They'll get around to exploring later. It's enough for now.
He doesn't have to say 'I love you'. He said that. Over. And over. And over again.
And he doesn't have to promise anything silly about the future or make some off-hand remark about how they're meant for each other or anything.
Really. He doesn't have to say a thing.
Gaara understands him perfectly when he speaks with his body.
Naruto understands Gaara just as well.
It's cool. Mostly because it's the night, partly because it's slightly windy, but Naruto is warm, and Gaara likes the heat.