A/N: Edited version for Spread-My-Wingz-And-Soar .

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Hold Me

"I don't really like you," she tells him, her green eyes hard and defiant. Her lips are pulled back, tight against the teeth in a scowl.

"Okay," he says, and slides the head phones on, listening to heavy metal so he won't fall asleep. She grumbles, yanks them off.

"Pay attention!"

He yawns, hoping that she'll realize it for the dangerous gesture it is and leave him alone. She doesn't seem to take it in as a threat, but more of a sign of disrespect. Huffing, she stomps to the window and peers out, staring at the storm.

He drinks a shot of something that's almost pure caffeine and stares at the ceiling. His eardrums ache, so he turns up the volume. Several minutes pass, while outside the storm rages. Gaara does the math—if she goes out now her skin will be torn off of her body in less than five minutes.

Unless she heals herself—over and over and over until the pain becomes too great and she just dies. He pushes himself out of his chair and meanders to the door. "I'm going home," he tells her, cracking his head from side to side.

She leaps up, crossing the room to tug on his arm, "Take me with you," she demands.

He blinks, cocking his head to the side, "What?"

"I want to visit Temari, I was planning on doing so when I came here anyway," she says firmly, staring directly into his eyes.

He looks away, avoiding those awfully familiar green eyes. "I don't think you'll want to go out there."

"Well, you are—" she starts to protest, too childish for her fourteen years.

"I'll be fine," he says emotionlessly, reminding her of who he is. She falters, eyes widening almost fearfully for a second before she steps away.

"I—okay, whatever," she starts back to her chair, the one provided for official visitors.

He rolls his eyes, and thinks once again that he's trying to be nice, dammit. Shukaku laughs and tells him that he should kill her while he can, before she turns on him too.

Bristling, he grabs her wrist and says, "Fine, c'mere."

She doesn't move close enough, so he jerks her close and holds on tight. Closing his eyes, he focuses…and the sand comes.

She's probably afraid, probably thinks he's going to kill her. Good. His hands are wrapped around her tight, pulling her to his chest. Uncomfortably, he notices that he's not that much taller than her, his eyes level with her forehead. She staring at him, pulling away and holding on tight at the same time.

Just before they dissolve, Gaara remembers that she's a girl—that he's intimately touching a girl.

And he kind of likes it. She's very warm, and soft. And she smells kind of nice.

They materialize in the living room, both of them flushed and embarrassed. A plate drops to the floor, smashes. Kankuro is staring at them, open mouthed and appalled. Gaara groans, and tries to get his evil, treacherous arms to move. They stubbornly refuse until Sakura, (who had been attempting to get away for almost a minute now,) knees him in the crotch.

Vile, terrible girl. He should have seen it coming—she is a part of Team Seven after all.

"Temari!" Kankuro snaps out of his reverie and hollers down the hallway, "Gaara developed hormones!"

"He what!?" Temari yells. Distantly, Gaara thinks that he's going to kill both of them.

"Gaara doesn't have hormones! He watched porn with you for five hours and he didn't even blink!" Tamari was coming closer, storming down the hallway.

"I swear it's true! He was blushing a second ago!"

"You dirty liar!" Temari finally enters the room, looking terrified and ecstatic. She shoots Sakura a quick grin, and then sees Gaara rolling around on the floor. "What's his problem?"

"She," Kankuro points at Sakura, "Just kneed him."

Temari gapes at Sakura, flabbergasted. Sakura scratches the back of her neck uncomfortably, "I—sorry, but he wouldn't let go!"

"I—he touched you?!" Temari waves her arms around wildly, looking back and forth between Sakura and Gaara. Through his intense pain and suffering Gaara manages to glare at her.

"He did! I saw it with my own eyes!" Kankuro clings to her and together they scream. Sakura blinks, confused. Suddenly, she is drawn into the sibling huddle.

"So," Kankuro says, staring suspiciously, "what'd you do to him?"

"I didn't—what?"

"Temari, Kankuro, shut up." Gaara grinds out, shakily standing up and hobbling over to the couch. For once, he is totally ignored.

"Maybe," Kankuro mumbles, "he has a crush on her?"

"Gaara?!" Temari looks disbelieving, "Has the world ended or did your brain just die?"

Kankuro pointedly glances outwards at the storm, and Temari is forced to concede his point.

"I do not," Gaara rasps, his voice hoarse, "Have a—whatever, on her."

"Yeah, um, he—" Sakura starts to argue in his defense.

She is cut off when Temari barks out, "Gaara! We're going to play a word game, I'll say a word and then you have to say the first thing that comes to mind!"

"I refuse to take part in such an idiotic—"


"Leaves," Gaara grumbles, almost against his will. Kankuro shoots a quick glance towards Sakura's forehead protector, but remains silent.


Gaara's mind flickered, memories of his tattoo popping before his eyes.

"Red," he says calmly, wondering why Kankuro's staring at Sakura's dress like that.

"Hearts!" Temari says, a little desperately.


"Holy shit!" Kankuro yells, tugging on Sakura's hair and ignoring her yelps, "She's like his icon for romance!"

Not really, Gaara thinks, I just liked holding her.