Bonds of time | By : drakoniss Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Shikamaru/Naruto Views: 2640 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and make no money on the fiction I write. |
Naruto is anxious; he is pacing the living room in his old apartment, the clock on the wall counting down minutes until the end of his life as a free man.
The wedding is tomorrow, and he never felt as miserable as he does now. No matter what sort of spin he puts on his possible future, it’s turning out to be the opposite of what he really wants, and all his can think of is “I miss you’; and “I need you”, and "I will never love anyone else as I do you; Never."
The wound from break up is still raw, and the hurt it’s causing is almost impossible to bear at times. He drinks his cold tea without feeling the taste; it could have been sitting here for a week, and he would not care. Maybe it has mold in it by now, and if he is lucky enough, he’ll poison himself. But the tea is fine. Sakura made it this morning, when she came to have a talk. It ended in angry shouting, her blaming him for making the second biggest mistake of his life; It was a mutual decision not to speak about the first. Naruto walks outside and gazes at the evening skies, at the twinkling stars above his head. It’s another perfect evening in Konoha, warm and not at all humid, fragrant breeze lightly whipping through the bushy treetops, wrapping Naruto in the intense, deep fragrance of summer. Somewhere, on the other end of the village, Shikamaru is getting ready for bed. His ruined dinner is probably still siting on the kitchen counter, untouched – and who is going to remind that fool to eat now? He finished reading his books, - another reason why his dinner always turns burns to a crisp, maybe made himself a cup of tea, or something stronger, to chase away the thoughts of Naruto’s wedding. He might have even smoked a cigarette; an annoying habit, but Naruto is not around to scold him for it, so Shikamaru can smoke to his heart’s content. Naruto envisions burnt rice that is almost black inside the pot, the overcooked fish, smell the sweet vapors of Shikamaru’s tea; sees the straight profile etched in the window opening, illuminated by cold glow of stars shining from above; an ordinary sort of picture with a focus on the extraordinary guy, and Naruto closes his eyes, and thinks: this is my heart;
Another moment passes, then an hour trickles by, and stuffing his hands deeper inside his pockets Naruto walks outside begins on the familiar path to Shikamaru’s house. It’s late enough for most of the people to be inside, and the ones that are not, they probably know better not to ask him where he is going so late the night before his wedding. Everybody knows each other in Konoha; Shikamaru lived in the same place for years, and Naruto has been seen going in that direction more than once. They never tried hard enough to make the thing between them a secret, -too big to hide; impossible from the beginning.
Shikamaru’s house is on the end of the village near the entrance to Konoha forest, and this area is always heavily patrolled by this ANBU squad or another. Naruto does not care. People will talk no matter what he does, this is the price that comes with always being in the public eye, and Shikamaru’s reputation has been damaged beyond repair since the incident with Hidan.
There is a gravel path leading up to the front porch, and when Naruto walks it there is distinct crunching of pebbles underneath the soles of his heavy, beat up boots. Shikamaru opens the door in just a towel wrapped around his hips, the sound of water running from the upstairs bedroom like a distant, disconcerting noise in Naruto’s ears. He does not seem surprised; just wary, and beyond exasperated. It must be even harder for him that it is for Naruto – after almost a three-year fling, which had not really been a fling. While Naruto had his obligatory once a week dates with Hinata, Shikamaru – had only had sex with him. And Naruto would not have it any other way, back then. There had been an incident once; Naruto saw him flirt with a boy at Chouji’s birthday party, just an innocent exchange of smiles and half interested looks, and the next thing he knew he had a handful of the guy’s shirt and wide eyes frightened to death staring into his own. A boy, that Naruto never saw again, got the message loud and clear; “Don’t you dare go touching what’s mine.” Nobody in their right mind would approach Shikamaru again.
“If you ever decide to screw around behind my back.” He’d whispered in to his ear with a dark conviction later on that night. ” Make sure I never find out about it.”
“Naruto.” Shikamaru hissed back. “ People are watching.”
“They’ve been watching for a while now, sweetheart. Believe me, by now – everyone knows. But be real careful with who you flirt from now on; I am a nice guy most of the time; but I would not advise anyone to cross me when I am not.”
“Just… go Naruto.” Shikamaru says tiredly, about to close the door in his face. “It’s enough that I have to watch you get married tomorrow; I don’t need to see you today too.”
‘Will you ever see me again?’
It’s an unfair question all around; unfair to Shikamaru; unfair to Hinata; unfair to his unborn child; But he can’t help it – he needs to know. The wind is stronger in this part of the village, ruffling Naruto’s hair and whistling through the holes in his soul with a desolate noise.
“ I don’t… see married men, Naruto. And I sure as hell don’t fuck them. Go home… please.”
He is a better person of the two for making this step; telling him to go, because Naruto is not strong enough to do it himself. It’s dark on the porch, a the sliver of yellow light coming from the half open door behind Shikamaru’s back is what Naruto has to use to determine what is going on inside that brilliant head of his. His face is mostly in the shadow, the expression between resigned and hopeful; it depends on the angle, and the play of light that slashes his face in half when the wind is trying to force the door open.
“You don’t sleep with married men.’ Naruto agrees, voice low and hoarse. It’s hard to get the first words word out – after that, saying everything else is a cinch.” But I am not married yet. We still have tonight. Just... let me be with you…for the last time. I know you need it as much as I do.. Please.
“For the last time, huh?” Shikamaru seems to think about it, with a ghost of his usual grin. After a moment hesitation, he pulls Naruto inside, shutting the door behind him, and warns: “It won’t happen again.”
Naruto reaches out and lays hand on Shikamaru’s hip before yanking the towel off, then strokes naked skin there, a perfectly natural and familiar to both of them gesture.
‘You know.” He says contemplatively making a completely smooth segue from their topic a moment ago to the present one.” My life was so fucking easy before you; even with the war, and Sasuke, and all this other shit going on, everything was just … easy.”
‘Well, don’t worry about it; it’s about to get real easy again.” Shikamaru’s smirk does not go on beyond the moment, disappearing as soon as he stops talking. He turns around and looks over his naked shoulder, lifts his arms to free dark hair from the spiky ponytail, every motion precise and flawless. He knows what Naruto likes; he knows what he wants; they played this game more then once.
“Where to?”
“The shower.” Naruto pretends to think abut it even though this part has been decided as soon as he heard the sound of water running, saw Shikamaru dressed in nothing else but a skimpy towel barely big enough to dry hands with. Calculating look materializes on his face making the whiskers more pronounced, eyeteeth tingle in anticipation. Beginnings of desire flutter in his chest; this game, he knows; they played it more then once, and if tonight was going to be the last time, he better make it memorable. Tonight, they play by his rules.
He follows Shikamaru upstairs, hands balled into feast on both sides of his body, - a preventive measure not to reach out and touch; wrap them around the willowy midriff, push him face down on the stairs and have him right there and then. There are too many stairs; Seventeen; Naruto will not forget the number for as long as he lives, watching long legs ascend over each step, slowly, his face leveled with gorgeous butt cheeks – supple, and firm ,and perfectly round, thinking how different the workings of the heart are from the most primal desires of the body. He can get philosophical like that under the right amount of pressure.
“Walk… faster.”
He hisses out an order, raising his eyes to watch the spill of dark hair across sun kissed shoulders when Shikamaru conquers the next step. The man is gorgeous from the front, no doubt about it, but the back view is a work of art in itself. There is not an once of extra fat anywhere on his upper body, he is compact and perfectly muscled, every bone in the long skeleton position with flawless precision. His posture is excellent – come to think about it, Naruto never witnessed Shikamaru do anything as simple and undignified as slouch. There is a lot of ink on his back, and Naruto knows every word and pattern, can recite every etched phrase by heart, trace the outline of each design it with his fingers on any flat surface. On the small of his back, just above the sweet slope of his ass, there are two adorable dimples – the only imperfection Naruto could find anywhere on Shikamaru’s body. He fucking loves them; he will miss them; like he will miss Shikamaru himself, - the sex, the laughs, the company, the intense kind of happiness he brings him with his every smile. He outstretches his arms and gives Shikamaru’s butt a gentle push.
” Walk …faster...please.”
The bathroom is steamed up, and it’s like floating through the thick layer of fog that lays sticky dampness all over his body; Naruto can pause just long enough to kick of his boots, but that’s it, walking under the shower spray with his clothes on; they cling to his wet skin and Shikamaru pulls on the front of his shirt and forces him farther under the spray, rivulets of water running down his face and eyelids that are pressed shut, eyelashes clamped together in sodden bunches. The water is hot; it scalds Naruto’s skin even through a layer of wet clothes, but he loves how it stains Shikamaru’s cheeks pink. Shikamaru parts his lips, then clamps his teeth over his bottom lip, digging in to it. He fumbles with Naruto’s zipper and frees his cock, and at this cue Naruto gently runs his index finger up and down the rapidly beating vein on Shikamaru’s long throat. Sex with tem always been great; better then great; amazing. But Shikamaru never learned to enjoy it completely pain free, Hidan partially to blame for that, and every time they fucked he had to find ways to hurt him just right - enough, but not too much. Enough to activate the switch in Shikamaru’s brain responsible for pleasure; not too much not to activate his own that would make things dangerous – and Naruto never wanted to take that chance.
“Not yet.”
He says letting his hand drop, wringing a disappointed whimper out on the open, slight frown rippling over slackened features. If this is the farewell fuck, Naruto wants to make it last. He should probably get rid of his shirt and pants, he thinks lazily, but he does not mind them for some reason. It’s not important.
Naruto drops to his knees, Shikamaru’s cock bobbing in front of his face, hard, and slender, and pretty like the rest of him. He knows he is going to miss it just like he knows Shikamaru is going to miss having him like this, on his knees, begging to have the taste. They are in for few years of getting used to live without each other, and it will be anything but easy. Steadying him with one hand over slippery hip, Naruto deep throats him, choking on the length, enjoying every second of it, working his cock like this is the last time in his life; and maybe it is. But he knows Shikamaru won’t come just from it, he needs something else, and he spreads trembling ass cheeks with his other had and plunges three of his fingers deep inside, enjoying when Shikamaru jerks into his mouth from the sensation of finally being penetrated. Water eases the passage a bit; But Shikamaru never needed much preparation – he can take it all and more, he can take Naruto’s cock for fuck’s sake which is almost abnormally huge, completely dry, and love every second of it.
But fingers are not enough. His whole hand would probably not be enough at this point, so Naruto let’s Shikamaru’s cock slide out of his mouth and stands up, plunging in for a short kiss, before spinning Shikamaru around, flattening him against the tile wall. His hands gently rest around the diameter of long throat, cheats heaving up and down against slippery back, and he arranges himself in the split of that glorious ass. Time stills, and then rashes forward faster then Naruto can follow, when he tightens his fingers around Shikamaru’s neck, and then bites down hard, not holding anything back. Shikamaru screams, arches his back, and Naruto drives home, his soap slicked dick sliding all the way inside the dark cavern that is hot, tighter then ever, and in desperate need to be stroked, stretched, and filled relentlessly, for as long as they both can stand it. Because of his size, Naruto always had be always had to be extra careful with his partners; with Shikamaru, there is not even need to pause before starting to thrust, he knows that his boy is loving every second of it – and this is the hottest thing Naruto will ever experience. And it’s perfect, and amazing, and absolutely heartbreaking in it’s finality, and they both shut out every other feeling out of their minds and bodies but this.
He was never allowed to come inside before – and it did not seem like such a big of a deal. But today, Naruto feels that it’s vital that he does. Shikamaru feels it too, and tries to warn him, to say something, twist his head around to open his mouth and talk, but Naruto does not want to hear it. He clamps his hand over Shikamaru’s mouth and his thrusts grow more frantic, more erratic, and then there is a myriad of starts behind his closed eyelids, smoldering hotly on the edges of his consciousness. The lone star separates from the crowd plummeting down, and Naruto’s has time to make a wish before orgasm rocks his body; it’s such an absolute, extraordinary pleasure when he spurts hot liquid inside his lover’s body filling him to the brim, that he thinks he was a fool to have never done it before;
“Naruto…”
Shikamaru is reaching above his head to turn the water off, breathless but subdued, - wondering. “What have you done?”
Naruto slides out of him, still breathing hard, post orgasmic bliss settling over him like a heavy blanket. Rivulets of cum run down the inside of Shikamaru’s legs, and that sight is oddly satisfying. Like he left something inside him that will always remain there, reminding him of Naruto’s existence; always. It’s ridiculous and kind of silly, but Naruto can’t help feeling that way. He will need a real shower soon.
“ What’s the big deal? “ He shrugs. “It’s not like I can get you pregnant. “
Shikamaru has somewhat odd look in his eyes when he helps Naruto out of his wet clothes, and skin-to-skin contact is heavenly. There is no urgency this time when he soaps Naruto’s body, not leaving a single spot unattended, diving in for a kiss between playful ministrations. They turn water back on, and Shikamaru lets Naruto wash his hair, such a lovely thing to do, his painted back, hardening all over cock, the obscenely swollen ring of muscle, and Shikamaru moans when Naruto probes the center with his soapy fingers. He is ready to be filled again, filled, and stretched, and fucked, that makes every nerve of Naruto’s body sing with joy.
It’s different when they do it in bed, the sense of finality finally settling over them like a raincloud, painting the moment with melancholy colors of matured evening. The wedding is at noon, but Naruto can’t sleep here – can’t risk walking back home early in the morning, so he reluctantly leaves the bed, avoiding the quiet look in liquid brown eyes. No judgmental – never that, more questioning than anything, but he does not have any answers for him right now.
“My clothes are wet.”
He offers instead walking up the window, raising his head to look at the velvety, star-studded sky.
“I can spare something.”
“Shikamaru.” Naruto sighs; leans his forehead against the glass, and it’s just as painful to say good-bye this time around as it had been a week ago. ”I..”
‘Don’t, Naruto.” He really is a better man out of the two, but it’s not like Naruto ever had any doubts. “You go get married… have a bunch of brats that you want so much… become a Hokage… live a life. I will be okay. Don’t worry about anything.”
“All right.” Naruto agrees in a hushed voice. “Will do… but please…”
Shikamaru fishes out an old pair of pant and a ratty shirt out of his closet, and hands them to Naruto with a sigh.
“Throw them away when you don’t need them; don’t worry - I won’t be bringing any dates to the wedding.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“
When Naruto got home he could smell the smoke from Hiashi’s pipe spreading half a mile radius from the house, scaring away mosquitos and anything else that lived. Naruto sighed; the weight of the right thing felt especially heavy this evening, pressing over the aching muscle on the left side of his breastbone.
Hiashi sat on the open veranda overlooking the River, long legs crossed at the knees, smoldering pipe half forgotten in his hands.
“I am here for my daughter.”
He announced skipping the small talk. Without turning around he signaled fro Naruto to sit down, heavy eyebrows knitting together above the brooding eyes. They were a good looking bunch, the Hyuugas, Naruto had to admit, every single one of them. Even at fifty Hiashi still had not lost his youthful charm, his face still mostly unlined and roguishly handsome.
“What do you mean.” Naruto frowned, taking his seat at the head of the table, his favorite tea already producing steam from the teapot in front of him. “You are here for you daughter?”
“I am here to take her home, boy. Before she destroys herself; before you destroy each other.’
“You should’ve thought of that before; before you married her off to me, covering up her lies. Hinata is my responsibility now; and this is the way it’s going to stay.”
A surge of wind ruffled the edges of white tablecloth, and Naruto reached to fill the dainty cup with tea.
“I was never a good father to her.” Hiashi admitted in a rear surge of honesty.” I though that if I finally gave her what she wanted… it would make up for the things I’ve taken from her when she was a child. I was wrong;”
“You are a bad parent.” Naruto agreed, full heartedly. “And I might not be the best husband; but I would still take me over you any time of the day.”
“She needs help.”
“You can’t help her, Hiashi Sama.”
‘Something - anything - needs to be done.”
“You should have told me she was ill; I would have handle the situation differently.”
“If you weren’t so busy running around with your boy, you would have seen the signs yourself. You must understand, Naruto.” This must have been the first time the man addressed him by his name, and it rang strangely in Naruto’s ears. ” I’ve lost my wife to the disease already; I don’t want to be the one to pull my daughter out of this River, too. Let her go home with me. “
“She won’t go; for better or worse, this is her home now. Being miserable together is better then being miserable alone. Believe me; I’ve tried it both ways.”
“But you hate her.”
“ I hate myself more; it evens things out in the end.”
“Good evening, father.” Hinata called entering the patio, giving Hiashi a peck on a cheek. ”Good evening, sweetheart.”
She looked stunning this evening, creamy skin and flowing dark hair, and Naruto felt a stab of pity for the girl he once knew. Where was she now? Would she ever come back? How did thing get so bad so fast?
“What happened to you hand, honey?”
She frowned, and Naruto fought the instinct to hide the bandaged fingers behind his back, like a guilty child.
“It’s nothing.’ He’d answered with a small smile. “An accident at work. Just a scratch.”
“You need to be more careful.”
She suggested with a sweet smile, taking his injured hand between her fingers.
“So I keep on hearing.”
‘Hinata…” Hiashi started out, and Naruto realized that just like himself, the man was walking on the eggshells around her; afraid to say or do anything that would set his daughter off. “I was thinking…”
“No, father.” Hinata interrupted, feverish look back in her strange, white eyes, shapely nostrils beginning to flare a bit. “ I am not going with you. I am staying here, with my husband. Where I belong.”
“She said it.”
Naruto shrugged downing his warm by now tea, gazing skywards at the row of chased by the wind autumn clouds. Was this rain ever going to end?
“Sweetheart.” She continued switching her attention back to Naruto’s hand.” Did you go to the hospital to get that looked at?”
‘Yep.”
And suddenly, he wanted to be anywhere else but here, thinking it must what Kyuubi felt all the time – overcome with desire escape, unwillingly getting attached to his host; knowing that only Naruto’s death will set him free, yet he would rather take his own life the to cause him any harm.
“ Good. You would not want for it to get infected. Let’s eat, everyone.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“When you meet your mate, you’ll know.”
Grandmother said reaching for her flask. She paused meaningfully enjoying the sensation of alcohol entering her system, and hiccupped.
“Enough with the drinking already.”
Young Kiba frowned, but made no move to take it away from her. What an embarrassment for the whole Inuzuka clan – his own grandmother, an alcoholic.
“Don’t tell me what to do, boy.”
“What am I gonna feel?’
‘I said – you will know.” She snapped and took another swig.” You will feel … complete. You gonna feel like your soul had been ripped out of you and then reattached to your body full of entirely different essence. ” She gave him another devilish smile. “ You are too young to understand anyways, brat. You want some of that sake?”
“I am thirteen!” Kiba wailed, cheeks flaming hot with embarrassment.
“Just messing with you.”
“What does it do to you, sake, that you like it so much?”
Kiba sighed. He loved his grandma, he really did, it’s just sometimes he worried. Worried that he will loose the only person in the world who loved him - for him. Not the next leader of the clan, not the shinobi who would grow up and probably die protecting his village, and not the father of the future Inuzuka offspring.
“Stimulates my consciousness.” She grinned.” And makes me forget at the same time. One day, you might understand; even though I sincerely hope that you won’t need to.”
Thank fuck the apartment had a balcony, because if he did not get his cigarette now, Kiba was going to die. He could forget about sleep, after what he’d just heard. The stars came out for the first time in days, reminding that this season was not going to last forever. That most of the time, Konoha was a pleasant place to live, with nice weather and plenty of sunshine.
‘I said no smocking.”
Gaara’s tired voice dragged him back into reality, and with outmost reluctance, he obeyed.
‘Even outside?”
Kiba raised an eyebrow lowering a match from his unlit cigarette.
“I don’t like… the smell.”
And fuck if he was ever going to smoke around him again, the sudden realization sparking fiercely in his mind. Of course he did not like the smell. Flicking the cigarette into the small garbage bin he walked back inside, his eyes instantly adjusting to the darkness in the room. Kazekage’s entourage snored away on the double bed, out cold, and Kiba wondered how well they would be able to protect Gaara now. It did not seem anything could wake those three up. A surge of protectiveness rose up within him, and he mused if this feeling was a trait typical to everyone who ever came in contact with the supreme leader of Sunakagure. Maybe just to the people who loved him; or cared deeply for him; but he was not either, and he did not know what irked him more – that fact that he was not, or that that he, more than anything in his life, wanted to be.
Leaning over the sink Gaara splashed some cold water in his face, but it did not seem to satisfy him; submerging his head under the spray and stayed there for a few second, unmoving.
“Your shower don’t work?’
“I didn’t want to wake my brother.”
He answered staring in the sink, tips of cherry-red hair heavy with water. They hanged around Gaara’s pale face like rattails, dripping all over his shirt and drenching it right through, but he did not seem to notice, or simply did not care he was about to get chilled to the bone.
“Here.”
Kiba said gruffly, approaching from behind, throwing a towel over hunched shoulders.
‘What happened to the heater?’
Gaara asked dully without turning around.
“Somebody must have turned it off during the night; I would imagine your boys were getting pretty baked in here.”
“How much have you heard?’
‘Enough.”
“Don’t tell Naruto; he does not need to know;’
“I I thought he was the one who found you.”
“He did; but… – there was not much to see when he arrived. I looked mostly dead; He does not need to know.”
The clock on the wall said it was three in the morning; time to sleep, if he wanted to get anything done tomorrow. But here stood this beautiful, beautiful boy who was hurting so intensely, sharp shoulder blades and sodden red hair that his fingers itched to touch, that he sighed, bit his lip, and continued speaking to Gaara’s back.
‘You need to sleep.”
“ Not tonight.”
‘Not tonight?
‘ I don’t need much sleep.”
‘Don’t need much seep, don’t need much food, don’t need much of anything, huh? Are you -even alive, man?’
Gaara shrugged.
‘Do you like fables?”
‘What?”
Gaara finished drying his hair and turned around, striking Kiba with a lethal doze of his androgynous beauty. It was not even his face that gave that impression, but a rare, flawless perfection of the overall features. He still looked more masculine than girly; but he could definitely go either way with the right lighting and help of make up. It was then that Kiba realized that he liked the masculine qualities better; it was the fact that Gaara was a man switched the light bulbs on inside his head. Full blast.
Thin and fragile, like a figurine made of the spun glass, he looked even more otherworldly in the low night-light, and Kiba was overcome with sensation that the guy never really came back from the dead; not completely. It reminded him in some ways of Hinata, who always appeared to be one leg over the threshold into another world; Kankurou’s concern did have a reasonable ground after all.
‘Fables; you know, fairy tales; legends; folklore; my granny was a great storyteller. Some of them put you to sleep right quick; We can give it a try – if you want.”
Kazekage looked skeptical, head coked to the side, fingers tightening around the wet towel in a steel grip. He also looked he wanted to believe that it might work.
“I don’t want to…”
“I know, wake your brother. Come on; we go to my room. You take my bed.”
Gaara regarded him silently for a short moment, then nodded, and followed him into the adjourning bedroom sitting down cautiously on the unmade bed.
‘If I knew you would become so much nicer to me, I would start screaming right away.”
He half joked hugging his knees, huge eyes glowing in the dark, like a cat’s.
“You are…”
Kiba sighed, exasperated.
“What?”
“ Nothing short of amazing; beautiful; so…very broken.”
“Nothing.”
“Actually.” Gaara shrugged patting the space on the right side of himself. “I am pretty easy to get along with. You are nice to me, I am nice to you; But you did not want to play nice.”
Kiba planted his butt on the edge the bed, keeping his respected distance.
“I don’t bite..”
“I know; I just…”
“What?”
“Did not like the idea of getting stuck babysitting an overbearing brat for two weeks.”
“Well; it seems as though things don’t go your way very often, do they?”
“Almost never.”
Gaara laughed, softly, and Kiba felt tension going out of him like the soul leaving tired body; quick and final.
“It must be wearing.”
“You have no idea.”
When he was younger and had Akamaru by his side, Kiba used to think he did not need a mate. He thought Akamaru was his mate. Back then, the life was great. But Inuzuka clan has always been keen on traditions, them being close in spirit to animal world, and everybody lived by the clan’s special set of rules. As it turned out, Kiba’s father had chosen to run away rather than follow them.
There had been no divorces in Inuzuka clan. No same sex relation ships, and definitely, no alcoholics. Kiba prided himself at being a good clansman, simply because he had to pride himself at beingsomething. He followed the rules; he only had sex with woman and he rarely ever drank; He was bloodthirsty, loyal to his Hokage, and rather uncomplicatedly unhappy. He was never going to get married, because he did not want to end up like his parents, and for the most part, this suited him just fine. This is how he lived his life, and this is how was going to meet his end. And if things made him go a little crazy sometimes, he would go get this tattoo or another until he ran out of skin he could spare.
‘You are something else, wolf boy.”
Gaara stretched on his side, arms wrapped around lumpy pillow, not loosing eye even for the fraction of second.
“You must know that I am not in any way related to wolves? Dogs more then wolves; I might have some traits…”
“I know, I know.” Gaara laughed again.” You always reminded me of one, is all. So, how about that story?’
Hesitantly, heart skipping a beat, Kiba reached out and buried his hand in the mass of cherry red hair, gently stroking the scalp underneath. Gaara leaned closer and shut his eyes, his even breath music in Kiba’s ears in the silence that fell over the room like a silk blanket. There was music in his ears and the music in his heart, and he never heard such a beautiful sound in his life.
“When you meet them, you will know.”
“There lived two toads; and they met a boy.”
He began, spraining his brain to bring the story alive in his memory, to make it sound just right. It seemed important for some reason that he would get it right for Gaara, maybe one of the most important things he ever had to do before, or will ever do again in the future. Golden moonlight filled the room, and there was still some time before the sun would start rising and the new day would begin. Kankurou snored on the other side of the wall, and that felt oddly comforting – safe – to hear that at least somebody was being able to succumb to deep, carefree sleep. It filled Kiba with a sense of hope while he talked, reciting the story from his memory as if he only heard it yesterday, fingers still threading through the damp locks.
“I will never let anyone hurt you again. Ever.”
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo