Life's funny sometimes. Things that are supposed to be wonderful and pure often end up dirty and painful. Things that are supposed to be regretful, sinful, and just wrong are often pleasurable- simply magic.

Sweet sixteen. It should have been a coming of age, a joyous celebration. It should have been a birthday where you were surrounded by silly, giggling, friends, a brand new car in the driveway with a pretty bow on it from your parents, your crush finally asking you out. It should have been. Instead it was a cold street-corner, nervously biting your lip. It was furtive glances left and right where more experienced girls- No, not girls, women. Even if some were the same age, even younger than you, what they did, how they survived, made them women- strutted past, knowing better than you how this game worked. It was trying to look inconspicuous as a drug deal occurred not ten feet away from you. It was fear in the pit of your stomach, eating you alive. It was constantly reminding yourself that you had no choice, so you better suck it up and deal with it. Grow up, and grow up fast. You smirked to yourself but there was no real humor in it. Happy birthday. Happy birthday to me. Happy fucking birthday to me. Happy fucking birthday was right. Exactly right.

Some time passed, minutes, and hour, it was hard to tell the difference. Nothing had happened yet. Maybe you were doing this wrong. Maybe you were doing this wrong on purpose. You looked down and took in your appearance, working your way from the bottom up- strappy black heels, skin tight jeans, a low-cut snug black tank-top that contrasted starkly with your pale skin-tone. Maybe you weren't showing enough skin, you thought. With a sigh you leaned back against the streetlight. Staring out at the city lights your thoughts wandered. Two months ago you'd been fairly well off. Your parents had died when you were young, and you'd lived with your aunt since then. She was nice. You were at the top of your class in school. You had a few friends. So, maybe it wouldn't form the exact perfect picture you'd had in mind for your sweet sixteen, but it wasn't bad. Not bad at all. Your aunt's abusive boyfriend going berserk and killing her, almost killing you- that was bad. Bad enough that you had to grab a few belongings and some cash and run off. Bad enough that your money was starting to run out, cause no one hires a fifteen- now sixteen- year old. Bad enough that you were about to whore your virgin self out on your sixteenth birthday.

Lost in thought, you hadn't noticed the blue-green eyes watching you. Leaning against a brick wall, partially hidden in the shadows, was an attractive red-head in faded jeans and a black t-shirt. You happened to look over just as he stepped out of the shadows. He stared at you, head to toe, then straight into your eyes. It made your breath catch. It was as if he was looking in at your soul, probing in your mind. You swallowed nervously, and managed to pull your eyes from his gaze long enough to take in the rest of him. He didn't look to be much older than you, and not very well off himself. Dark rims around his eyes more than hinted at insomnia or some sort of addiction, a disheveled look of worn clothing and messy red-hair showed a disregard for his self presentation, and jaded eyes gave the impression he was used to the darker side of life. You also noted that he had a small tattoo on the left side of his forehead, some sort of kanji, but you weren't close enough to see what it was. The red-head broke the penetrating stare, and looked away, seating himself leisurely on a bench not far from you. So leisurely in fact, that it feigned indifference. It seemed to you that it was as if he was approaching a wild animal, slowly so as not to startle it away. He sat, slouched against the bench, one arm draped over the back while the other retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. He took a moment to light one, and stuck the cigarettes back in his pocket. As he took a slow drag from the cigarette he flicked the lighter, once, twice, three times, then stared at the small flame, seemingly mesmerized by it. The fire cast a glow on his face, making his hair look red as blood, which was strangely alluring rather than disturbing. Feeling your eyes on him, he smirked and cast a glance in your direction. Your eyes were wide with fear. It really was like he was luring a stray animal, enticing it forward. Weren't you supposed to be doing the enticing? When did this become a game of predator and prey?

He put the lighter away and took another slow drag on his cigarette. You tried not to watch. Maybe if you stopped watching, maybe if you just walked away he wouldn't do anything. Nothing would happen. But wasn't that the whole point?

You focused on anything you could to keep your gaze away from the red-head- a street sign, a section of the pavement, a certain brick on the building across the street- but your eyes kept getting drawn back to the dark silhouette on the bench and the lazily drifting smoke.

He looked over at you as he took the last drawn out drag on his nearly extinguished cigarette, his eyes half lidded. Your heart hammered in your chest as standing up, he flicked the burnt cigarette to the ground, and stepped on it, coming towards you with his hands shoved in his pockets. So slowly, no rush, so smoothly, like he owned the street. Looking right at you as you fidgeted. He stopped about two feet away from you and smirked again. Such a subtle movement, he inclined his head in the opposite direction, a silent invitation. You hesitated and his smirk disappeared, replaced with impatience. You took a cautious step forward and the smirk reappeared. You took another step, and he began walking forward, continuously checking behind him to make sure you were following, only a few steps behind him. Two blocks, three blocks, and a dark haired man with onyx eyes grabs you. You let out a whimper of surprise and the red-head turns around quickly. Upon seeing what has happened he scowls and angrily approaches you, grabbing your wrist and bearing his teeth in a snarl at the dark haired man leering at you. He pulls you along behind him, looking back even more often now to ensure no one else tries steal what's his.

The streets are less populated now as you near a dingy apartment complex. Up a set of steps on the outside of the building and to a yellowed door with a number 9 on it. He fishes in his pocket for a moment and pulls out a key, unlocking the door with practiced habit. The door is shoved open and you are pulled quickly inside. The door slams closed and it seems there is a sense of finality about that, not just the literal but the symbolic door closing. The click of the lock speaks as if to say that there's no turning back now. You are able to receive an impression of a small room that isn't quite as run-down as you had expected, but are unable to take in anything else as you are pinned against a wall, strong hands holding your wrists above your head. The red-head leans his forehead against yours, the rest of you separated by scant inches. You now see his intriguing eyes up close as they bore into you. His warm panting breath ghosts across your face. He looks almost vulnerable himself there for a second, and then the mischievous smirk comes back.

Leaning closer he whispers in your ear, "Relax," and his slightly rough, but persuasive voice, sends a tingle down your spine. He holds both your wrists with one hand and moves the other down to your face brushing his thumb across your lips, trailing his fingers down over your exposed neck. "I'm Gaara," hey says huskily and trails his fingers down your arm, "What's your name?"

Now that he's spoken you feel a bit more confident, and more cynical as well. "I don't see that names matter with this, do they?" you reply coldly.

He grins widely, and presses his body up against yours. "I just wanted you to know what to scream later."

Gaara, as you now know him, licks the shell of your ear, then kisses you fiercely. You hadn't been expecting that. Kissing seemed so personal and wasn't this supposed to be just the opposite? Regardless, he claimed your mouth with his own, and after eliciting a gasp from you by sliding his hand up your shirt, he slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring it. Without having thought about it, you had responded eagerly, returning it with as much force as it was given. If it were even possible he pressed himself closer to you, and you could feel his growing arousal poking at your thigh through the denim. He had let go of your wrists completely in favor of tilting your chin up towards him with his left hand, and roaming under your shirt with his right, while you clutched his messy crimson hair. He moved his right hand down to your ass and squeezed, causing you to let out a groan. At the sound he hardened substantially and began to grind up against you. You groaned again, continuously, and he increased his pace.

So wrapped up in the sensations you didn't notice as he moved the two of you away from the wall and over to the bed. He shoved you down on to it, holding your wrists again and began to lick and suck at your neck. You let out a sigh when he gently bit you. When he reached your collarbone, he paused a minute to shove your tank-top up and jerk it off you and toss it onto the floor. You weren't wearing a bra, and blushed at the exposure, but forgot your embarrassment when his mouth descended onto your breast. You moaned and arched up involuntarily towards the new feeling. He trailed his fingers down your side and to the waist of your jeans, tugging slightly. He stopped his ministrations to unbutton and unzip your jeans, and realizing he was still fully clothed, he tore his own shirt off as if it was suffocating him. With all the heat in the room right now, it probably was. You couldn't help but stare a little at his shirtless figure. He noticed this and smirked, slowly unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping his fly, like he was giving you a show. He stood up off the bed for a minute while he let his pants fall to the floor, revealing black boxers underneath. He climbed back over you and slid your jeans off carefully. Then he suddenly crashed his lips to yours again, hungrily, his hand caressing your inner thigh.

Breaking the kiss, he moved lower and lower and, giving you a lustful look, pulled your underwear off with his teeth. You sucked in a breath as his teeth grazed over you. Still rubbing your thigh he ran his tongue across your slit and you gasped loudly. Delicately he licked, lapping up your juices, and then abruptly pushed his tongue inside you. Your breaths were fast and heavy as he continued this and you felt heat gather in the pit of your stomach. You raised your hips up towards him, and he went faster, causing you to spill over. With that he stopped, looking at you with a satisfied grin, and removed his boxers, revealing a dripping erection. The large size of his cock worried you a bit, but you had an overwhelming urge to touch it. He looked from your eyes, down to his cock, and back again, as if giving you permission. Slowly you reached your hand out and wrapped your slender finger around his length tightly. He groaned at the pressure as you squeezed up and down his shaft, though you had no fucking clue what you were doing. On a sudden whim you leaned down and licked the pre-cum off the head and he growled in pleasure. Forcefully he shoved his cock into your mouth. You managed not to gag and began sucking instinctively. As you did so he bucked towards you, grunting and groaning. As he neared completion he pushed you off of him, and panting hard, pushed you onto your back and straddled you. Looking straight into your eyes he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust in fast and hard, without preamble. You screamed partly in shock, partly in pain.

"Shhhhh," Gaara whispered into your ear, stroking your hair. He pulled out halfway and thrust in again, just as hard, and continued at a steady pace. The initial pain had turned to indescribable pleasure and you were moaning, sighing, and screaming as he went in and out of you.

"H-harder," you breathed, head foggy. He complied, slamming into you more roughly. "G-Gaara….Gaara!" you screamed out as you came. You clenching tightly around him pushed him over the edge, and he came inside you, filling you up with liquid warmth.

He collapsed on you, and rolled over beside you, pulling out as he did so. You lay there for a moment in the aftershocks, too tired to move. When the haze wore off you looked down and seeing cum run down your thigh, you panicked when you remembered you hadn't used a condom. A look of terror crossed your face.

You heard a short laugh from Gaara. "I'm shooting blanks, you don't have anything to worry about."

"…..Oh…." was all you managed to say in reply.

You started to get up off the bed, but Gaara pulled you back down and, wrapping an arm around you, pulled you to his chest. You looked at him, confused. His eyes were sleepily half closed. Remembering his tattoo, you brushed strands of red hair out of the way, and traced the symbol with your finger. You smirked when you saw it was the kanji for love.

For a while there was silence. You had almost drifted off to sleep when Gaara yawned and asked in a drowsy voice, "How old are you?"

You were quiet for a moment. "Sixteen," you said softly, "Sixteen today."

When you looked at Gaara he was asleep.

You woke up gradually, blinking your eyes, and taking in your surroundings. You heard a shower running in an adjoining room, and remembered the night before. You sat up, covering yourself with the sheet and looking around. The shower turned off and a moment later Gaara emerged in a towel, damp scarlet hair sticking up in every direction. You looked towards the bathroom door, thinking a shower sounded pretty good right about now.

"Go ahead," he said nodding in the direction of the door. When you had finished with your steaming hot shower, you saw your clothes folded neatly in a pile on the hamper in the bathroom. Shrugging off the small gesture, you dried off and dressed. You stepped out to see Gaara leaning against the wall by the apartment door looking…nervous…which seemed odd for someone in their own home. Hands shoved in his pockets, he was looking down at the ground almost ashamedly, and glanced up at you when he heard you close the bathroom door behind you. He gave you a small, somewhat awkward half smile that was nothing like the smirk of the night before. You returned it just as awkwardly, and looked down at your shoes. You dragged your gaze up to stare at the door, trying to get your feet to move in that direction.

"Um…." Gaara started, catching your attention. He scratched the back of his head, trying to find words. He swallowed. "Uh, do you think you might wanna, well, go somewhere, and, I, uh, get some breakfast maybe?" He looked back at you sheepishly.

Your hearts leapt. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'd like that"

He smiled genuinely and so did you.

"Come on," he said excitedly and grabbed your hand tugging you towards the door. "Oh, and, uh, Happy Birthday"

You don't have to move, you don't have to speak
lips for biting.
You're staring me down, a glance makes me weak
eyes for striking
Now I'm twisted up when I'm twisted with you
brush so lightly
and time trickles down, and I'm breathing for two
squeeze so tightly.

I'll be fine, you'll be fine.
this moment seems so long
Don't waste now, precious time
we'll dance inside the song

What makes the want to shake you down?
Each touch belongs to each new sound
Say now you want to shake me too
Move down to me, slip into you

She sinks in my mind as she sheds through her skin
touch sight tastes like fire
hands do now what eyes no longer defend
hands to fuel desire

I'll be fine, you'll be fine
this moment seems so long
Don't waste now, precious time
we'll dance inside the song


Ooo, ah (x8)

And I'll be fine, you'll be fine
Is this fine? I'm not fine
Give me pieces, give me things to stay awake (stay awake)

Chorus x2

Move down to me, slip into you

I hope you enjoyed! It was my first shot at something like this and I worked really hard on it. The only other person I've seen write stories that "involve" the reader is The Rouge Fox. If you liked this, you should check out all her oneshots.

By the way, the lyrics at the end are from the song Dance Inside by The All American Rejects. Though I was actually listening to the song Shake It and the song Tell Me What To Do by Metro Station on repeat when I wrote it... Anyway, at first I thought that Dance Inside was much too sweet for this story, but it's sort of a losing your innocence kind of thing, so, in some wierd way, I think it works.