Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

Hatsu	By : dragonslover1 Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1420 -:- 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-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 10
- 11
- 12
Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. I am not profiting from this fanfiction.
Hatsu
Chapter Eleven

Suzaki was mortified when she climbed into bed. Gaara had found her dead asleep, almost sprawling, on the couch. Why hadn’t she gone to bed when she started feeling tired? Why hadn’t she worn her usual pants? And the worst question of all: what, if anything, had he seen?

She touched the tattoo on her inner thigh, thinking. It had been something of a mistake in getting it. But at the time, she remembered very clearly that it had made a lot of sense. It was more than a year ago, and she and her team were in another town, just relaxing before they had to return and give a report.

At the time, they had been drunk, because in that town, there was no drinking age. Or not an enforced law about it, anyway. No age minimum for getting tattoos, either.

Since she was maybe eight, whenever she thought of her future -- a boyfriend, marriage, children -- there had always been only one option for the man in her life: Gaara. He intrigued her; always had. He seemed to need someone every time she saw him, and yet nobody would stand up and be that person. She had always wanted to, even though she’d never had the guts to approach him.

So she kept her eyes on him from afar, instead. What she saw was a boy who was lonely, with dark eyes and a very noticeable scar. Her heart would ache for him, and sometimes it still did, though she knew he was much better off these days.

When she got the tattoo she had now, only he had been on her mind. She wanted, in a drunken stupor, to prove her devotion to him. But not to everyone; it had to be intimate. Something for his eyes only. Something that could only be shown to a lover. And something that had meaning for him as well. Because, at the time, the sake had strengthened her resolve. She had told herself she would confess to him the moment they returned to Sunagakure.

And when that plan fell through, faltering in the face of what she wanted, she was left with a very personal tattoo. Since then she’d been doubting, more and more, about whether she would ever be able to let him see it. She doubted his reaction to it, the meaning it may have for him. She could even imagine him laughing at the stupidity of it.

Just what had she been thinking, getting a tattoo of “ai?” Especially there? And a month before her sixteenth birthday, at that! She was a stupid -- no, the queen of stupid, stupid kunoichi! A goddamn red tattoo was permanently an inch away from her most private place, and she only had herself to blame.

What ifs were another problem for her. For instance, what if she ended up with someone else as her husband? God forbid it happen, and she couldn’t even imagine who it might be -- but what would she say? Her first night with another man, when he saw it, what would be her excuse? She was young and stupid? Well, that was true enough. . .

Thank the Gods, whichever were awake right then, that Gaara hadn’t seemed to notice it. If he had seen it and remained quiet, she was grateful for that just as well. But if that were the case, she’d be even more mortified. How the hell was she going to be able to look him in the eye now? Sure, he might not have seen. She could tell herself that all she wanted. Yet if he had seen it -- the doubt was all it took.

She buried her face in her pillow, blushing fire. She couldn’t believe herself. Wasn’t it just a few days earlier that she’d masturbated to the thought of making love to him and still been able to smile at him? Oh sure, when he was unaware, she could be as naughty as she wanted. But when he just might have learned a naughty secret of hers, she was beyond embarrassment. Beyond recovering, even.

She considered leaving in the morning, out of the village, gone forever. Gods knew she wouldn’t be able to look at him the same ever again. Even if she asked, in as many words, if he’d seen her tattoo, even if he denied that he had, even if she believed he hadn’t. . .none of it would do any good.

Stupid, stupid kunoichi! she cursed herself. The one night you decide not to wear your pants, you fall asleep on the couch, and guess who comes home?!

A weak sob escaped her lips, disappearing into the pillow. It was followed by a scoff and a laugh. She couldn’t decide how to feel anymore. Why were things so complicated? Why had she stupidly added to them? And why the hell couldn’t she simplify any of them?

It was a good thing she was still dead tired. It made it easy to fall asleep again, putting those thoughts aside. Her dreams were intimate once more, steamy, with a certain redhead at the center of them. She wasn’t surprised. The last few nights had been the same, dreams of sex and heat that left her wanting from the moment her eyes opened. Suddenly masturbating was part of her morning ritual.

It was no different this morning, her body practically demanding it. And the release was damn satisfying, leaving her in a pleasurable haze. Everything from last night that had bothered her was gone. It felt like her life was in her control again.

And that feeling was fantastic.

When she left her room to shower, she could see down the hall. Most of the couch was in her line of sight -- and occupied. Gaara was slouched on it, left hand over his eyes. She thought he looked distressed, in a way. But at the first sight of him, she made a mad dash for the bathroom. As soon as the door shut, she laughed at herself.

Oh sure, she’d thought everything was back under control. Except, as always, her reactions to him. Different every day, constantly confusing her, and probably doing the same to him.

She glanced at her reflection and saw a blush on her own face. Blushed and ran at the very sight of him? You need to go to counseling or something, she told her reflection. This is getting ridiculous.

Instead of worrying, she took a shower as planned. As least that was safely under control. Of course, not an instant in that shower was spent thinking of anything other than him. It led to the discovery that he wore a mesh shirt under his half-a-vest and coat. She hadn’t noticed it before, or maybe this was a new change for him. Then again, how would one see a t-shirt under a long-sleeved and zipped-up coat?

She dressed, and as she did so, realized she’d forgotten a few items in her room. Her Chuunin vest, gloves, and earrings, specifically. Not that any of those were any great big deal; she had nowhere to go today, anyway. Without the vest, though, anyone could clearly see the top she wore under the mesh, the straps over her shoulders. She thought it ironic that the vest hid it so well.

And when she exited the bathroom, she saw that Gaara hadn’t moved in the slightest. It worried her, so she came closer.

He moved his hand to glance at her as she neared, and it gave her a chance to see his face. His brow was creased (and she had to admit, it was kind of weird without actual eyebrows), his eyes squinted. He resembled someone who was suffering a hangover.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He returned to his position, saying, “My shoulder hurts.”

She guessed it must be his right one, considering his left hand was over his eyes. “Why? What happened?”

“I fell asleep on my desk.” He winced. “When I woke up, it was hurting.”

“Slept on it wrong?” she asked, surprised. It was horribly ironic that someone who hardly slept would sleep wrong.

“It’s hard to sleep right when you sleep on a desk.”

Point taken. She felt bad for him. “Okay, let me see if I can’t make it better.” When he looked up, she gestured him to sit up.

“You’re not a medical ninja,” he told her.

“I still know how to massage,” she countered. “It solves muscle kinks.” Why was he resisting?

Well, that was a stupid question. This course of action would have her hands on him.

He gave her a skeptical look.

She gave him an exasperated one. “Do you trust me or not?”

She had him there. He sat up, though he said, “Don’t make it worse.”

Like it were possible. She took a seat behind him, folding her legs on either side of him. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “Of all the people in this world, you’re the only one I’ll never hurt.” She heard him draw a sharp breath, though it might have been from setting her hands on his shoulders. Slowly, carefully, she started rubbing, seeking out the sensitive spots.

It didn’t take her long to locate it, more on his front than back. That’s when she pulled him to lean back on her, one hand keeping up a slow massage from neck to shoulder to chest. She knew what she was doing, at least. She had done this same thing many times before, for Airou -- the man had a nasty habit of straining himself while out on missions.

Now Gaara had his head on her shoulder, chin up. She tried to avoid looking at him, which was easy from this angle. After a few moments of this, she felt him shift, rest a hand on her knee. Her heart jumped at the contact. It was hardly intimate, she told herself. He was just trying to stay comfortable.

This was a bad, bad idea. But he looked so pained, what were she to do? She’d said as much to herself, that she wanted to be the one who massaged away his pains. Well, now she was. She couldn’t afford to regret it.

But -- why hadn’t she realized, ahead of time, that he was leaning back on her breasts? She had to breathe shallow to try to keep that fact as unnoticeable as she could.

The silence was almost as tense as the muscle she was trying to relax. And what’s worse, she could think of nothing to say. What could she possibly ask about? He was the Kazekage. He probably spent all morning pouring over papers, trying to keep the economy together. How could she even bring that up? “Hey, what did you sign this morning?” It would sound forced.

Gaara, it seemed, didn’t have as much trouble. He said, “You’re not wearing your vest.”

“Neither are you,” she pointed out. “Honestly, I forgot.”

“I always wanted to ask you about that.”

“About what?”

“Why do you never zip up the vest all the way?”

She blushed, realizing then that he’d noticed. Then again, E-cup breasts weren’t easily hid from sight. “It wasn’t made for the female body,” she told him. “It can get really tight.”

He laughed again. “Here I thought you were just. . .displaying.”

That was horribly blunt. She was embarrassed enough as it was. “No,” she disagreed. “It’s just hard to find clothes that fit well.”

“Always too big or too small?”

“In one place or another.”

“You could get things made for you,” he said, shifting again. “Your team is the richest.”

“I know that. But I always gave my earnings to my parents.” She noticed then that when he shifted, he was relieving pressure on her chest. Was he trying to make her comfortable?

“To your parents?” he echoed. He sounded surprised.

“Nn.”

“Why?”

She dropped her head back as she thought over how to explain. “To help make end’s meet.”

He paused, making her wonder what he was thinking. “Why did they need help? Most everyone in the village have homes they grew up in; they own their homes.”

“Not my parents,” she sighed. “The house they’re living in now is the third I’ve lived in. They’ve always been having trouble with money. I figured it was only right to let them have what I made as a ninja.”

“Because you owe them your life?”

She bristled at that. “No. I don’t owe them my life. But I love mom and dad.. That was reason enough.” That was when she thought he must not know what it was like, to love your parents, to be loved by them. She might have been overprotected, but it was better than nothing.

Once more, they fell into silence. She was still focused on making that muscle relax, and damn it, the kink was tough. At least he wasn’t flinching; that was a good sign. She decided to ask about it.

“Does it feel any better?”

“Nn,” was his reply. She took it as an affirmative.

Her legs were getting uncomfortable, very much so. Trying not to move too much, she shifted, lifting one leg and then the other. In a more relaxed pose, she had one foot on the couch, the other on the table. Gaara moved too, slouching a bit more, crossing his ankles on the table.

It wasn’t too much longer and she came to the sharp realization that he’d fallen asleep. The knowledge started a fluttering in her chest. She’d put to sleep the man who couldn’t be put to sleep, in a way. She didn’t think it would be a good idea to wake him, and neither did she trust the kink to not flare up again, should she stop rubbing.

And so, she was stuck where she was. After a little while, she allowed herself to take deeper breaths, no longer at risk of him pointing out her breasts. What followed then was a subtle, lengthy chain of events -- subtle enough that she didn’t realize it was happening until it was nearly over.

Their combined warmth, mixed with heat from outside, made her drowsy all over again. She relaxed against the couch, dropping her head back for the second time. Then her hand stopped its massage, her muscles all relaxed. A moment later she had moved both her hands to his stomach unconsciously, which she noticed at the same time she realized they were lifting and falling with his breathing.

Giving up, she dropped her foot to the floor and shut her eyes. There was no use struggling to keep awake anymore. She just hoped she wouldn’t wake up hot and bothered again; she couldn’t imagine the embarrassment she’d feel if he found out.

- - -

Note: About Suzaki’s E-cup breasts. . . In Japan, because they use the metric system, their cup sizes are smaller than America’s. We go by inch, they go by centimeter -- two centimeters at a time, I think. E-cup breasts are more like C-and-a-half.
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Hatsu