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Desert Skies	By : KohakuShadow Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1094 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Desert Skies
- 1
A/N: This is a prize fic for llyoung.
That, of course, doesn't mean the rest of you can't also enjoy it.
Had some trouble getting this one to come together sooo...no promises
that it's any good.

One-Shot Fic.

The Requested Pairing: Shikamaru x
Gaara (seme/uke relationship irrelevant)

Desert Skies

No matter how many ways Shikamaru thought about it, this was really
reckless. Even so, how could he tell Gaara—finally getting used
to touch—craving it, even—that
sex on a rooftop in broad daylight was probably a really bad idea.
Point in fact, he couldn't. Gaara had already divested them both of
any clothing gracing their upper bodies and was currently using his
sand to pull Shikamaru's pants off because if he used his hands he
would have to stop running his fingers through Shikamaru's loose
hair. He seemed to have a fascination with the dark strands when
unbound, and stole the Nara's hair tie at any opportunity. He did it
so often, in fact, that the Nara had taken to keeping a spare in one
of the many pockets of his vest.

The Nara couldn't help but arch under the Kazekage's slight weight as
bare flesh rubbed against bare flesh, Gaara's erection exposed and
sliding against his lower belly. He moaned softly. “Gaara,”
he rasped out between the red-head's hungry kisses.

“shmmmaru,” Gaara
mumbled back, unable to keep himself from stealing another kiss in
the middle of the Nara's name. He couldn't wait any longer and sat
up, straddling the Nara's waist and sliding himself down over the
Nara's thick member. His eyelashes fluttered and his head rolled a
bit in ecstasy. It was amazing, this feeling of loving and being
loved. It was the first time in his life he felt so safe. He knew
the Nara wouldn't betray him in a million lifetimes and sighed
contently as the Nara's hands trailed over his pale flesh and he
began to rock his hips. 'To think I almost missed out on
this,' Gaara thought, horrified
by the prospect of returning to a life without love now that he'd
finally managed to grasp it. Being Kazekage wasn't nearly enough. He
just hadn't known it until now. Part of him existed for Shikamaru
Nara. It was scary and amazing and absolutely wonderful. Temari
called this the 'honeymoon period'. If that was the case, he prayed
that he and Shikamaru would be on their 'honeymoon' for the rest of
their lives.

It wasn't long at all before the two became unbearably impassioned,
moving fast and hard against each other, and even the Nara forgot
that they were doing this on the rooftop in broad daylight. If
anyone was spying they were getting a damn good view and that was
that. Anyone who tried to interrupt them was going to fall victim to
a very, very angry shadow. He was awed not only by the fact that
Gaara was riding him on the rooftop so eagerly, but the view of the
beautiful, slender male, skin kissed by the sun shining behind him,
casting a golden halo around his features.

Gaara arched back hard and cried out, splattering seed across the
Nara's stomach and clamping down hard on the member inside of him,
pulling a raspy moan out of Shikamaru's throat as he was pulled down
into an orgasm shared with the diminutive Kazekage.

Sated, for now, Gaara slipped off of the Nara's spent member and
cuddled up against his chest with a content little purring noise,
fingers idly toying with the ends of the Nara's dark hair.

A long silence passed between them
before anyone deigned speak. Shikamaru wrapped his arms around
Gaara's slender form and watched the clouds tumble by over head,
sifting through a number of idle thoughts drifting through his
constantly active mind. “It's
funny,” he said at last. “You see these paintings, you
know—these desert skies all full of ten thousand streaking
colors, smoke swirling, purple and gold clouds. It's pretty in its
way, I suppose, but I always looked at those paintings and thought it
was kind of a shame.”

“Desert skies are also blue, Shikamaru,” Gaara said,
lifting his head to watch his lover's thoughtful features, honestly
perplexed as to what the color of the sky had to do with anything.

“Yeah,” the Nara said with a faint smile. “As it
turns out, your world and mine aren't really that different: blue
skies, white clouds. As long as that stays basically constant, I
guess I can tolerate a bit of dry heat.”

Gaara nuzzled back into the Nara's shoulder, hiding a contented
smile. “You're such a weirdo.”

Shikamaru tried not to laugh. Gaara had just said 'weirdo'. “Yeah,
well, takes one to know one.”

~A Few
Months Earlier~

Shikamaru glowered at the painting. There were hints of blue, but the
clouds were not the white fluff or even the lavender and peach shades
of sunset. They were red and gold, and the Nara couldn't help but
think, 'that's harsh. Looks like the sky is on fire.'
He wasn't sure he liked clouds that looked like they were about to
pummel to the earth at any moment in a pile of cinder and flame. No,
that wasn't true, he was actually rather sure he didn't like it at
all. He knew he was stalling, sulking even. Not only did he have to
go all the way to Sunagakure for some troublesome mission that Hokage
insisted only he could do, but he had to go alone,
and if the desert paintings exhibit in the Konoha Museum of Art was
any indication he wouldn't even be able to enjoy a peaceful sky while
he was there.

He'd never actually been to
Sunagakure. The Suna nin had come here often enough, but he'd never
thought to ask Temari about her home—it's not as if he was
interested, but now he kind of wished he had a little more
preparation; as for the details of the mission, he was told the
Kazekage would be the one to give him the specifics. So. Great. Not
only did he have to go to the desert and tolerate its heat and its
burning clouds and it's total lack of lush grass to lie about in, but
on top of it he had to deal with Sabaku no Gaara—okay,
everyone told him the young man was no longer a homicidal
lunatic...he'd wait to see that to make any judgment calls because
the only Gaara Shikamaru had ever known was the kind of guy you sort
of...a little...evil. Yeah, the Gaara that Shikamaru had in his
memory was a demon, and not because he had a demon living inside of
him, but because his personality kind of sucked in a billion of the
worst possible ways. 'I guess I'd better just get this
over with.'

--

“...That's basically all there is to it,” Gaara finished
explaining flatly.

Shikamaru sweatdropped a little. “Don't say it like it's so
easy,” he complained a bit. He was sure this was the mission
from hell. Apparently Gaara was having some serious issues with
human contact. Unless he was physically exhausted or wounded his
sand shield came up every time someone else tried to initiate contact
and with a lot of the smaller children not as terrified of him as the
village as a whole tended to be, he was concerned he might
accidentally hurt one of them if he was surprised.

“I know it isn't easy,” Gaara answered matter of factly.
“That's why it has to be you.” Shikamaru was a genius,
after all, and on top of that his techniques would allow him to
'touch' Gaara from a distance, so if his sand acted out the Nara
wouldn't likely be hurt. He'd thought it all out very carefully.
Besides, it was a good chance to get to know the Nara a little
better—he'd long since found the shadow nin interesting and as
embarrassing as his situation was at least the person they'd decided
would assist him was someone he was curious about. He well-knew
Shikamaru Nara wasn't half as lazy and useless as he pretended to be.

“Alright, fine,” Shikamaru said with a heavy sigh. “A
mission is a mission, though this one's definitely a little
abnormal.” He didn't know why Sabaku no Gaara had just
complimented him (well, it sounded like a compliment, anyway), but he
decided he'd take it for what it was.

“Good. Then get some rest. You came a long way. We'll start
after dinner. Temari, please show him to one of the guest rooms.”

“Sure,” the girl said, kicking off the wall and leading
Shikamaru down the hall. Once she was sure they were out of earshot
she said, “You've got your work cut out for you.”

“No kidding,” the Nara answered flatly. “At least
he's...mellowed out since the last time I had to use my jutsu on
him.”

Temari smirked and teased, “maybe you just became less of a
coward.”

Shikamaru scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don't say that too
loud. You'll ruin my reputation.”

--

Shikamaru shifted from one foot to the other and then back again.
Gaara was sitting at his desk, hands resting on the surface and
paperwork—always plentiful—stacked neatly on one side
where it would, in theory, not be disturbed. Normally it accumulated
oddly in uneven piles, one for things that were important and needed
to be dealt with immediately, another for trivialities, a third for
things the young Kazekage took one look at and decided he didn't want
to deal with until he absolutely had to. Now all the piles were
accumulated in one corner as his fingertips pressed a little too
roughly into the polished would because none of them were as
important as learning to somehow endure human touch.

“Alright,” Shikamaru said after an elongated pause,
squatting down as seemed to be a habit of his, “I'm starting.”

Gaara gave a curt nod and watched the Nara's shadow snake across the
floor, up the side of the desk, and inch slowly closer to his hand.
He knew it wasn't exactly a human touch, but having once before
experienced Shikamaru's techniques when they were both children,
Gaara knew that it felt like being physically held in place. Now
that the Nara's techniques had advanced and evolved, he was sure the
shadow would feel like something tangible against his skin and his
pulse began to race. He knew in theory that it was idiotic to be so
nervous about such a thing, but that didn't mean he could stop it—the
shield pulled up to block the perceived 'attack' but sand can't
destroy a shadow—the Nara's shadow tried to veer around it, and
when that didn't work he persistently tried to slide right up the
side and over it.

“Calm down,” Shikamaru said. “You know I'm not
trying to hurt you.”

“I know that,” Gaara frowned. “But if it was that
easy I wouldn't have had to call you here.” Even so, he tried
to concentrate, to force the sand shield down. It wavered, swelled,
and wavered again, and Shikamaru managed to get his shadow inside the
barrier by using the sand's shadow to extend his own.

Gaara's eyes widened when he felt the cool 'hand' come into contact
with his own. It was a quick motion—the only way Shikamaru was
sure he'd be able to reach inside the wavering wall of sand, but now
that it was there it became more gentle, just lying over the skin.
Gaara finally managed to conquer his wall of sand and it dropped in a
heap to the top of the desk. The Nara didn't move the shadow for a
few extended moments as Gaara stared at it though, but before too
much time passed he concentrated on making small movements with it, a
gentle caress of the fingers, the palm sliding every so faintly over
the flesh. It felt...kind of nice; Gaara wanted to be able to feel
more than this and he tried to concentrate on the fact that there was
a sort of gentle coaxing but no discomfort. His breathing evened out
and Shikamaru took this as permission to try to push a little further
and gently nudged his shadow up the Kazekage's arm, just to the elbow
and back down again. 'I wonder how different this is from what
his hands would feel like,'
Gaara thought.

“You okay?” Shikamaru asked. Gaara had the strangest
expression on his face. Shikamaru couldn't quite read it so he
decided to ask.

“A—aa,” Gaara answered. “Yes. Go ahead and do
a little more. I think I'm starting to get used to it.”

“Alright, if you say so,” the Nara answered, carefully
sliding the shadow hand further up Gaara's arm this time, very
slowly, very gently. It rose over his bicep and gently rested on his
shoulder. Shikamaru concentrated and moved the hand very faintly to
try to ease away some of the Kazekage's tension. It was amazing that
he was doing this well already, but maybe he wasn't as bad with
physical contact as he thought, or maybe it was that he knew it was a
shadow and not a real hand. Even so, Shikamaru's shadows could still
hurt if they wanted to, so he decided he'd consider it 'doing well'.
He let the hand slide up just a bit more to gently touch Gaara's neck
and cheek, wondering if he was maybe pushing things too far for day
one.

Gaara felt the strangest sensation coiling in his belly and his eyes
squeezed tightly shut, his breath catching in his throat. Shikamaru
misunderstood it as a small panic attack and quickly recoiled the
shadow, but Gaara's mind protested the halt in activity. He opened
his eyes in surprise at the brunette, who let the technique go and
rose to his full height. “I think that's probably enough for
today,” Shikamaru said. “You've done really well, but
it's best not to force yourself.”

Gaara nodded numbly, still feeling a tingling sensation in all the
places Shikamaru touched and a mildly uncomfortable warmth in his
lower belly.

Shikamaru took the nod as a dismissal and said, “right, then
I'm going to go sleep for now and we can continue tomorrow.”

When the Nara left the room, Gaara
leaned his head back against his chair, trying to get his heart to
stop racing and his breathing to calm down. What was this...strange
feeling. He hadn't wanted the Nara to stop. It was kind of scary
and very, very different, but it hadn't been bad. He closed his eyes,
tilting his head instinctively towards the shadow hand that was no
longer there. He couldn't ignore the hot ache in his lower belly and
reached a hand down without thinking to try to rub the soreness away
and gasped as his hand came into contact with his groin and a jolt of
pleasure raced through his entire body, causing his hips to buck
clumsily against his own hand. “Ah!” he gasped, rubbing
the bulge in his pants a little more firmly. His eyes screwed shut
and he bucked against the attention again. He couldn't seem to stop
himself from rubbing it, but no longer because of soreness.
“Nngh...” And he wasn't sure why, as he touched himself
in such a way, one thought seemed to get stuck in his head that he
couldn't escape: 'I wonder what Nara looks like with his
hair down.' He tried to picture
it, but for some reason rather than 'hair down' the mental image of
Shikamaru in his head was suddenly topless, leaning over him. His
breathing became more haggard and he rubbed himself more eagerly,
trying to force that mental image to unbind his hair. When he did,
brown tendrils tumbling—for some reason wet as if fresh from a
shower—around strong shoulders, his hips jerked and he came in
his pants. His eyes shot open and he moaned, finding he was having
trouble gathering breath before falling boneless against the chair,
panting. Once he managed to calm himself, Gaara lifted the waistband
of his pants to find a white mess inside of his undergarments and
frowned a little. It looked as if he was going to have to go take a
shower and change clothes.

--

Shikamaru startled awake. He had
been in a nice, deep slumber when he got the distinct impression that
someone was staring at
him and he sat bolt upright suddenly as if waking from a nightmare,
eyes shooting around the room like a startled deer until they landed
on a certain troublesome red-head who was sitting not three feet to
his left on a fold-away chair. He blinked at the red head.

“I thought you were going to sleep all morning,” Gaara
stated.

Shikamaru shifted his eyes to the
clock and then sighed in exasperation. “...it's only 6:30,”
he answered. Honestly, just because Gaara didn't sleep didn't give
him the right to interrupt other people who were doing it. 'Being
Kazekage kind of does though, I guess...'

“I have some questions,” Gaara said, ignoring Shikamaru's
statement. “There was a side effect yesterday and I don't know
if it's normal.”

Shikamaru blinked. “A side effect?”

Gaara nodded and gave Shikamaru the briefest explanation known to
man. “My penis started to hurt so I touched it and it squirted
white stuff out all over my pants. Is that a normal side effect of
touching?”

Shikamaru blinked twice as if determining if he'd just heard what he
thought he heard. On the one hand, Gaara's being so clueless about
erections and orgasms was kind of hilarious. On the other, just that
little bit of touching gave Gaara an erection? He sifted through a
number of possible things to say before finally nodding. “I
guess for you it's to be expected since you haven't had a lot of
physical contact. You must be more sensitive to it than most people,
that's all.” He didn't exactly want to be the one to explain
the birds and the bees—or in this case, the bees and the bees,
or something like that, to Sabaku no Gaara. For one, he was pretty
sure Temari would kill him for making her innocent little brother
more...knowledgeable. “Ah, but actually it probably works to
our advantage that that happened, because it was a kind of touch that
felt good, right?”

Gaara nodded slowly. “I think I'm ready to try being touched
by your real hands,” he blanketed.

Shikamaru blinked. He was still in a bit of a sleepy daze but kind of
wondered what the hell he'd gotten himself into. “After
breakfast, okay?” he tried. “I'm still half asleep and I
need a shower.”

Gaara pouted a little—it was definitely a pout, though
Shikamaru would never dare say so—and got up. “In my
personal quarters this time,” he said. “I ended up
knocking my paperwork over after all. Right after breakfast.”

Impatient, wasn't he? 'Well,
I guess that's to be expected out of a guy who just had his first
orgasm...but even so, what has that old hag gotten me tangled up in?'

--

“Are you sure?” Shikamaru asked. “It's only the
second day.”

Gaara pushed the Konoha nin to sit
on the edge of the bed. He was perfectly fine with physical contact
when he was initiating it, it was primarily a trust issue, really,
the problem he was having with his sand barrier. Shikamaru was
practically a stranger in one respect, so he felt certain that if he
could tolerate the Nara touching him then he would be able to relax.
It was the strangest thing though, that rather than tolerating, he
felt the shadow wasn't good enough; Gaara wanted to feel Shikamaru's
real hands.

He sat down next to the Nara. “Do it,” he said. “Like
last night, but not with shadows this time. I can handle it.”
At least he thought he could, and he damn sure wanted to try because
something about the Nara being this close reminded him of the
pleasure that had rushed through him the night before.

Shikamaru sighed a little. “Alright, but try to concentrate. I
don't like pain,” he answered. Something about Sabaku no Gaara
was so intensely childish, really. Then again, that childishness was
part of what made him easy to deal with now that he wasn't trying to
kill every human being in sight. It was oddly charming and sweet.
He carefully rested his hand over Gaara's, tentatively letting his
thumb run over the red head's knuckles.

Gaara's breath hitched. The shadows weren't even close to this
feeling. Shikamaru's shadows were a whisper over the skin like a
gentle breeze. Conversely, his hands were warm. He could feel the
callouses on the Nara's fingertips and found himself lingering again
on the thought of what the shadow nin would look like if he ever let
his hair out of that ponytail.

“Okay so far?” Shikamaru asked at the slightly strangled
noise that passed Gaara's lips. When he lifted his gaze though it
wasn't pain or fear he saw in those pale green eyes though. The red
head had leaned a little closer without him noticing. He doubted
Gaara realized it either and the way Gaara was looking at him made
his own breath hitch.

“I'm fine, Shikamaru,” he answered. “Please, touch
me more.”

Something about the way Gaara said
his name so plainly, the way it rolled right off of the red headed
Kazekage's tongue as if it were the most natural thing in the world,
sent a spiral of warmth directly to Shikamaru's abdomen. He
swallowed and told himself to get his mind out of the gutter. He
wasn't here to take advantage of the sand nin, just to get him used
to being touched. It was only natural that someone who went so long
without so much as a hug would be so needy when he finally managed to
let his guard down enough to feel another human's warmth. The Nara
obeyed though, carefully sliding his hand up Gaara's arm and down
again—a gentle caress that should be completely innocent, but
something in the air told him there was nothing innocent about this
and if he wasn't careful it was going to change everything. Leaning
forward like that, lips slightly parted and eyes looking up at him so
earnestly as his small chest rose and fell, Gaara looked cute.
Really cute. It was
something the Nara had never thought about the Kazekage before this
moment. He'd never given much thought to whether or not he was
attractive because until recently he'd been too busy concentrating on
being afraid of him. That was its own kind of cruelty considering
that's what Gaara had spent his whole life trying to deal with, but
the Nara had never given it much thought—at least, not until
now. He imitated the previous night's touch exactly and found
himself taken by the way Gaara leaned his cheek into his hand, eyes
closing, when he caressed his cheek, lifting his own hand to hold it
in place.

“Don't move,” Gaara said
a little breathlessly. “This feels so nice.”
Shikamaru's hands were so much bigger than his own. He'd never
noticed it before, but it was the strangest feeling. 'Is
this...happiness?' Gaara
wondered. 'I feel like...if only this hand could stay
right here like this forever I...'
It was an instinct when he turned his head slightly and brushed his
lips over Shikamaru's palm, causing the other to jump a bit.

“G-Gaara that's not...!”

Gaara wasn't really listening when Shikamaru finished with
'...appropriate'. Instead, he was pressing his palm against
Shikamaru's with a slight curiosity in his eyes. “Your hands
are so much bigger than mine. Look.”

“I...already know that,” Shikamaru said, relieved he
didn't stutter. He'd never have thought years ago that Gaara would
grow into this adorable, overgrown child, but here he was running his
fingertips over the lines of the Nara's palm as if trying to memorize
the creases.

“I like them,” Gaara blanketed after a while. “They're
nice hands.” Curiosity sated, Gaara returned the hand to his
cheek, looking up at Shikamaru as if fully expecting him to continue.

Shikamaru swallowed a lump in his throat. “I think...you don't
seem to need as much help as you thought,” he said weakly. The
Nara was having more trouble than Gaara seemed to be. It wasn't the
same kind of trouble though. There was nothing involving trust or
fear at all. Touching this way though seemed to intimate. He was
becoming aroused.

“I'll be the one to decide when I've had enough training,”
Gaara said firmly. “Touch more of me.”

Shikamaru bit the inside of his cheek. In reality he hadn't touched
much, just his arm and his cheek, but he felt like touching anything
more than that would be venturing down unacceptable avenues. He could
try a hug, but then Gaara would feel his hardening member if he
didn't move exactly right. He decided to take the risk and carefully
said, “I'll try a hug,” and leaned in, wrapping his arms
lightly around Gaara's shoulders. But Gaara wasn't stupid; he knew
hugs were supposed to be tighter than this and took it upon himself
to lean into Shikamaru's chest with a complaint of, “do it
tighter. I can handle it.” He shifted his weight and a slim
hip brushed against Shikamaru's blossoming erection. The Nara
squeezed his eyes tightly closed. “Gaara...not so close...”
he choked a little.

Gaara leaned back a bit blinking and looked down to find Shikamaru in
a situation much like his own. He'd been erect since he felt the
Nara's hand caress his own. He couldn't think of anything right now
that he liked more than Shikamaru's hands. One of his own though
quickly moved and pressed against Shikamaru's bulge.

“Gaara!” Shikamaru protested with a throaty gasp, hands
coming around the red-head's slim wrist. “D-don't...”

“Yours is this way too,” Gaara said curiously rubbing at
it in spite of the Nara's protests. “I think mine might
explode again soon too.”

“Nngh. G-Gaara, please, stop rubbing at it like that,”
Shikamaru protested.

“You don't like it?” Gaara asked, blinking at the
brunette. “When I did this to mine it felt really good.”

“That's the problem!” Shikamaru protested.

Gaara blinked then seemed to understand and pulled his hand away.
Shikamaru sighed in relief. “You're right,” the Kazekage
said. “It's too messy. I should take off your pants first.”

Shikamaru started to heave a sigh of relief as Gaara finally seemed
to understand, but it caught in his throat mid-way as the sand nin
finished his statement. “That's not what I...” Gaara
had already moved his sand and tugged down the Nara's waistband.
“Th-that...don't...” Too late. The sand had already
returned to its container after flinging the Nara's pants halfway
across the room. The Nara's cheeks flared when he saw that Gaara was
staring at his...his... He swallowed a lump in his throat.

“It's big,” Gaara observed. “I wonder if that
means it'll squirt out more than mine did. I'll take off my shirt
too, just in case.”

Shikamaru finally managed to get the momentum to grab Gaara's wrists
and stop him. Gaara looked startled. There was a little swirling of
sand, but it didn't form a wall and it didn't protest the Nara's
touch. “Stop this,” he actually begged. “You
don't understand what you're doing. Leave your clothes on. I'm
going to get my pants.” His breath was ragged.

“Why?” Gaara asked, looking a little hurt.

“There are places you're only supposed to touch a lover, Gaara.
I can't believe no one's ever told you this kind of thing before.”
Shikamaru shook his head and crossed the room to pull his pants back
over his now bulging erection, biting his lip against the
uncomfortable contact.

Gaara frowned a little as Shikamaru made his way back across the
room. “No one ever cared enough to,” he answered and the
words broke Shikamaru's heart a little. 'This is the guy I spent
half of my life being terrified of. I haven't been any better than
anyone else to him and yet he looks at me in such a trusting way.'
He let out a deep breath.

“Alright,” Shikamaru said, flopping back to a seat and
trying to ignore the pain in his crotch. “I'll explain it
clearly to you, but only once. It's a really awkward subject,
especially since it's something you should have known about for a
long time already.”

Gaara looked attentive, so Shikamaru
sighed heavily and began a very straight-forward explanation about
lovers and sex, and what it meant to become aroused and orgasm. He
didn't look at Gaara as he was talking because it was embarrassing
enough to have to talk about such a thing and the medical and very
un-sexy explanation had calmed his irresponsible hormones. Gaara, on
the other hand found about halfway through he began to have trouble
paying attention to the words. 'His voice is nice too,'
he realized. 'I feel so calm listening to him speak.'

“Do you have any questions?” Shikamaru asked finally.

Gaara blinked, having not realized Shikamaru had finished speaking
right away. Questions? Well, he did have one, though it was totally
unrelated. “Can I touch your hair?” he blanketed.

“Huh?” Okay, so that wasn't the most intelligent thing
Shikamaru had ever said, but he was rather startled. “What
does my hair have to do with it?”

“It doesn't have anything to do with it,” Gaara answered
frankly. “I just thought, I really want to touch it.”
Even though the Nara hadn't answered yet, Gaara was already up on his
knees, leaning towards the brunette and reaching for the tie to
carefully pull it out. He knew to be careful. Temari had yelled at
him once when he pulled one of hers out too quickly. He didn't scare
easily, but when she gave him that 'I'm going to kill you for that'
look and started yelling at him he'd hidden in his room for three
days until Kankuro came by and assured him she'd calmed down. His
curiosity might just get him killed one day. Even if he had nine
lives, Sabaku no Gaara had at least already used up one or two of
them.

Shikamaru couldn't seem to protest
as the dark strands tumbled down awkwardly around his shoulders—it
had been tied back all day and there was a curved lump through the
locks; he'd obviously tied it up when it was still wet. Gaara didn't
seem to care. He carefully ran his hands over it, neatening it up
idly as he pet the Nara's head like he was some manner of cute and
furry animal. “So soft...” Gaara mused in awe. He'd
never thought hair shaped like a pineapple most of the time would
feel so nice under his fingers, but it was nice. More than that
though, his groin, which had calmed a bit, roared to life again as he
watched the dark mass framing Shikamaru's face. 'He's
really handsome. Why didn't I notice before now?'

Shikamaru was sure he should fight this, but he found his eyes
starting to drift closed. It felt so nice that before he knew it
he'd fallen asleep, flopping back against the Kazekage's mattress.
Gaara didn't stop his petting, laying down next to the Nara so he
could continue. He understood what Shikamaru had said about lovers,
but even so...if the Nara was asleep he couldn't yell at him, right?
It would be a secret. He wanted to touch some more. His hands
gently slid from the Nara's hair and over his face and what bit of
his neck was exposed. He explored the Nara's arms and frowned that
the vest didn't let him really touch anything and then his hands slid
back up to his hair and face. Shikamaru's lips parted softly but he
didn't stir and Gaara, seeing the soft lips, got another thought
lodged in his head and leaned slowly forward until their lips
brushed. A shock of pleasure went straight to his groin and he
couldn't stop himself from reaching down to rub at the member. When
he did all he could think about was Shikamaru's and the Nara's
explanation. Between two men having sex, it would slide into the
anus. Imagining the Nara's member sliding into his inexperienced
rear end was beyond him for now, but he was sure he wanted to touch
it. He bit his lower lip. If Shikamaru woke and caught him he'd be
lectured, but on the other hand he might never get the chance to
touch it again after this. He checked again to make sure the Nara
was in a deep slumber and carefully used his sand to pull off his own
pants and pull Shikamaru's down to his knees where they wouldn't get
dirty.

He pressed himself tight against the
Nara's side, again checking to make sure Shikamaru was still asleep
and moaning at the contact of skin against skin, his erect member
pressed into the Nara's hip. 'Ah! It feels so
good...but...I have to...be quiet...or he'll wake up.' He
couldn't suppress a tiny moan though and his lips brushed every so
slightly against the Nara's jaw, his hand sliding down now to rub the
Nara's member. It thickened under his hand and Shikamaru's breath
hitched. He paused, but the Nara showed no signs of waking. He
experimented a little, letting his palm slide down to rub the balls,
his fingers to trace the veins...and he watched with growing arousal
as Shikamaru's member grew and hardened under his attention, unable
to keep his hips from rubbing slightly against the bare skin of the
Nara's thigh. He panted softly. He shouldn't do this. Shikamaru
would be mad, but he somehow couldn't stop himself. He wanted to
touch the Nara everywhere, to let his lips touch every part of his
body. His fingers wrapped around the shaft and Shikamaru—lost
in what was sure to be a very erotic dream, bucked against the hand
molesting him.

It was a dream about Gaara. The
red head was naked and straddling his hips. He touched his engorged
cock and shifted his hips forward, positioning it at his entrance.
“Like this?” Gaara asked. “A-aa,” Shikamaru
answered roughly. “Be careful or you'll hurt yourself.”
Gaara slipped the head of his cock into his virgin ass...

Gaara ran his thumb over Shikamaru's sensitive tip, all but
forgetting to be careful now as he was unable to keep himself at bay.
He could feel his cock about to explode and wrapped his hand around
the base of Shikamaru's cock as he continued to rub against him. He
was sure that even if the Nara woke up now he wouldn't be able to
stop himself, and let their lips press together again. He gasped in
surprise as the dreaming Nara returned the kiss eagerly, licking his
tongue and breathing into his mouth as his hips bucked against
Gaara's hand.

A sharp cry escaped Gaara's throat as his orgasm grabbed him and his
seed squirted out against the Nara's hip.

The warmth against him and the moan in his ear made Shikamaru's eyes
open suddenly, blinking to alertness as he found his cock hard and
captive and Gaara, pant-less and orgasming beside him. Gaara's eyes
widened when he came down from the high and his cheeks actually
flushed. Shit. Shikamaru woke up. “G-gomen!” he said
quickly. “I...had to.”
He didn't know how to explain it other than that. “I...wanted
to touch you in the ways I'm not supposed to and I...I...”

Shikamaru was amazed that Gaara, of all people, was acting so
flustered. It seemed terribly out of character, but then again real
people aren't nearly as one dimensional as the characters from a
novel and Gaara probably hadn't expected to get caught doing
something he'd just been told
wasn't allowed. “It's just because you're not used to
being touched,” the Nara said, trying to calm his hormones but
having a hard time of it when Gaara's hand hadn't moved from his
turgid member.

“It's not!”Gaara declared suddenly. “I'm sure it
wouldn't be this way if it was someone else!” He wasn't sure
how he knew that, but he was positive it was the truth. Instinct,
maybe.

Shikamaru bit the inside of his cheek as he disengaged Gaara's hand
from his flesh and barely managed to swallow the moan of protest at
being left without release for a second time. “Don't make that
kind of declaration so easily,” he insisted.

“But I don't feel this way when other people have touched me.
It's definitely different,” Gaara insisted childishly. “And
both times it exploded you're the person I was thinking about. Do
you hate me?”

'He's so childish,' Shikamaru
thought, but he didn't hate Gaara's more exposed, childish side. “I
don't hate you,” Shikamaru sighed. “You just need to
learn a little restraint. This isn't the kind of thing you can
decide so quickly.”

“Kankuro says when it's about
love there aren't any rules,” Gaara rebuffed. “Temari
says for some people it's instant and for others it takes years and
years to realize they have that sort of feeling.” He frowned a
little and looked down at where Shikamaru was still holding his hands
away from touching anything 'inappropriate'. “If I wait years
and years, do you think maybe you'll like me more?”

Damn it, he looked so sad.
Shikamaru wasn't sure why he felt like Gaara shouldn't have to be sad
over such a small thing when he'd spent so much time enduring greater
pains. Gaara looked up at him, pale eyes obviously anticipating a
negative answer. Something in Shikamaru Nara's chest broke in that
instant. There's a possibility that his currently rampant hormones
were impeding his logic centers, but he really couldn't be sure.
“Oh, to hell with it,” he sighed, giving in. “If
this doesn't work out, you're taking the blame.”

Gaara blinked, not sure what to make
of that kind of statement, but totally willing to take whatever blame
came his way when the Nara's lips descended over his own for what he
was sure was his first 'real' kiss. His arms curled around the
Nara's waist a little more tightly than they should have, and
Shikamaru was sure he was going to have ten little black and blues
along his spine where Gaara's fingers dug into his back as he
sloppily, but eagerly, returned the kiss.

Now, mind you, Nara Shikamaru didn't
believe in love at first sight. To date, he really wasn't even sure
he believed in love. He most definitely
didn't believe in all those sappy romances that talked about
fireworks, but tangled in a sloppy and overeager first kiss,
Shikamaru Nara definitely saw bright flashes of light going off
behind his eyelids. The world seemed to dim down to him, Gaara, and a
six inch radius around their pressed bodies. He'd never had such a
floaty sensation in the midst of a kiss before. When their lips
parted, both men were left breathless.

Gaara looked thoughtful a moment
before looking down at Shikamaru's turgid member and asking, “we're
lovers now, right? So I can touch you down there now?”

All out of excuses, Shikamaru sighed
a little and nodded. Gaara's lips quirked very slightly at the
permission and he wrapped his fingers around the turgid flesh. It
was a curiosity he didn't seem as if he'd get over any time soon,
fingers rubbing and exploring the Nara's overly sensitive member and
making the Nara shudder. “Gaara...” Shikamaru exhaled,
wondering if this wasn't a terrible idea.

“Touch mine too, okay?”
Gaara answered, looking up hopefully as his fingers explored the
turgid flesh. From now on, touch me a lot, in all kinds of ways.”

Shikamaru let out a shaky breath and
reached a hand down to Gaara's member, which was already hard again.
“Geez,” he said. “You really are
sensitive. You become aroused really easily.”

“Well, there's a handsome man
with no pants on touching me, after all,” Gaara answered,
moving closer and running his lips over the corner of Shikamaru's
mouth to get the man to kiss him again. Shikamaru couldn't help but
oblige, stroking Gaara's member and feeling the red-head try to
imitate the motions on his own. It wasn't going to be a very
graceful first act of mutual intimacy—he was already too turned
on to last very long, but he wasn't worried because Gaara was too
inexperienced to last very long anyway.

“You're something else,”
Shikamaru said when the kiss broke again, breathing against Gaara's
mouth. “You somehow never learned about sex, but you've got
flirting down cold.”

“It's not flirting,”
Gaara answered around a soft moan, his hand speeding up on
Shikamaru's member, already getting too excited to bear with it much
longer. Shikamaru's hand acted in turn, his own member already
throbbing, heat pooling heavily in his abdomen.

“Then what would you call it?”
he returned breathlessly.

“Being hone—honest!”
Gaara exclaimed a little, his orgasm sneaking up on him forcing him
to clutch onto Shikamaru a little too tightly.

Shikamaru groaned in reply as
Gaara's hand jerked him once more very quickly, pulling his orgasm
out of him. Their seed squirted upward, splattering a bit against
each of their shirts. Once the waves of pleasure had passed, Gaara
frowned at the white speckles on the cloth. “...next time we
should be all the way naked,” he mused.

Shikamaru didn't care about it for
now though, falling back against the mattress and pulling Gaara down
with him. “Now that you've got hand jobs down,” the Nara
said, “the next thing to practice is cuddling and naps.”
It was a flat joke, but Shikamaru gave up all resistance. Gaara
looked amazing when he came and he found he couldn't purposely do
anything to upset the Kazekage. He wasn't sure if it was love, per
say, but he was pretty sure before long at all it was definitely
going to become love because Gaara was someone he realized that he
really didn't want to disappoint for reasons that had nothing to do
with fear or it just plain being too troublesome. Besides, the red
head fit just perfectly in the nook between his shoulder and elbow,
curled so comfortably against his hip, and his breath felt so nice,
puffing out against the heated skin of his chest.

“Shikamaru?” Gaara asked
after a comfortable silence extended between them.

“Hm?” Shikamaru asked,
having already drifted into a half doze.

“I still have a lot to learn
about touching, so...stay for a long time.”

Shikamaru stared lazily at the puffy
white clouds floating across the blue sky outside of Gaara's bedroom
window and his lips curled a bit. Blue Sky, White Clouds, and a warm
body pressed up against his side that belonged to a charming man who
had randomly decided to love and trust him. “I guess this
mission isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be,” he
answered, tilting his head to kiss the top of Gaara's head before
letting his eyes fall closed.

“Shikamaru...?” Gaara
said again after another extended silence. The
Nara didn't answer, apparently already asleep. “...I lied a
little,” he admitted to his slumbering lover. “I already
knew about sex. I...was hoping it would end this way all along.”
Well, Gaara thought, looking up at the Nara's relaxed features,
maybe a little white lie now and again wasn't such a bad thing.

~Fin~
- 1
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