Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ More Than Expected ❯ More Than Expected ( One-Shot )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

More Than Expected

by Talisha Hibdon



DISCLAIMER: The disclaimer telling you that I don't own Naruto or any of the cast therin was killed by food poisoning after consuming rancid milk from Naruto's fridge. >=D
Author's notes: Had a brain tumor trying to dish this out. Not too much sweetness (sorry, I'm a literary diabetic =P) but I hope you like it anyway. Written for Nuriko Sakuma's Santa-nin gift. Feliz Navidad! ^_^
Pairing(s):NaruGaa
Warning(s): Well, it's not toooo graphic, but there is mention of genetalia, this being a lite NC-17 and all. But then, you expected that, right? ^_~
Genre(s): Lite Romance, lite angst. All gay.
Rating: Diet NC-17
Summary: Naruto recieves a nightly visitor during his short stay in Sunagakure. Post-Akatsuki kidnapping.




Naruto wasn't sure what to expect when he was awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of the door of his room creaking open. It was his first night in Sunagakure after the completion of his mission, and he wasn't sure what to expect when he peeked through one eye to see a familiar silhouette standing uncertainly in the doorway. He feigned sleep, his body spread akimbo on the bed, his bed sheets twisted and thrown aside due to the lingering dry heat of the sun scorched day. Only the flash of his throat was tell tale to the rise in his pulse as he felt the person's eyes upon him. He wasn't sure what to expect, and so he waited to see what there would be to see.

The harvest moon was riding the edge of the bluff surrounding the Village, casting a pale red glow through the dusty round windowpane. There was barely a sound to his footfalls - a mere whisper upon the stone floor that to the untrained ear would have proven unnoticeable. Yet Naruto was not normal by any standards, and the steady if deliberated approach of his unexpected visitor was well marked by the Konoha-nin. The residual heat of the desert wind could not account for the odd warmth trailing evenly over his form, like hands sliding across his skin. When at last he felt the intruder's presence just beside his bed, he was almost surprised when nothing more occurred.

He had not been able to discern his features clearly as he peered through the blur of his eyelashes, and he dared not move for the risk of startling his "guest" away and ending the strange encounter before he even understood its significance. He breathed in deeply, slowly, to catch a whiff of the stranger’s scent as well as to mock the deepness of sleep. All he could make out was the same dryness of sand that permeated the whole of the Village, and a slight salt that tasted of human sweat.

And there they both remained, neither moving for what seemed like hours upon hours. It was only when he caught the slight sift and trickle of what could only be sand wafting along the floor in the wake of retreating feet that he hazarded a guess to his visitor's identity.


Naruto had only had the rare and far in between opportunity to be in close proximity to the Kazekage of Sunagakure no Sato. From the very moment of his resurrection, he had not been able to get nearer than five feet to the Village leader. Exhausted as he was, Gaara had many things he needed to attend to that day even before they had all returned to Sand, and Naruto had been more than a little annoyed that he had not been allowed to speak to the other teen in private.

Not that he knew what he would say to him if he had gotten a chance. But after the very real scare of seeing one of his friends dead and beyond his help, he had been urgent to make sure that Gaara was indeed alive and well. Yet, Naruto was to be disappointed in his hopes for that day and he had gone to bed more emotionally worn out than he could remember being in recent memory.

However, he was not so tired as to miss the invasion of his bedroom while he slumbered. He felt no animosity or irritation at the breach of privacy - the kitsune vessel was only curious as to why Gaara had done it.


The Uzumaki had intended to seek the redhead out the next day to ask him about the night's previous strangeness. He was, however, refused audience with the Kazekage yet again by none other than Temari herownself. It seemed that today Gaara would be taking the day off to recovery from his harrowing experience with the Akatsuki. He couldn't really blame the guy, though. If he had had his own demon literally ripped out of him as Gaara's had been, he was sure he'd need a personal vacation to recollect his wits and bearings too.

They had only managed to meet once in passing. Naruto had spotted Gaara walking down the hall with fatigue clearly weighing his step. The bright afternoon sun that stood framed in a nearby tall window was hot and highlighted the pale weariness in his face. Naruto managed a cheerful greeting that Gaara only barely seemed to acknowledge. The golden haired ninja was left standing alone in that hall, confused by his counterpart's behavior, and wondered whether or not he had been mistaken the night previous.


But there was no mistake.

He came to him again that night. The same soft padding of bare feet alerted Naruto to his midnight visitor's approach and he willed his body to calm down to not break the picture of slumber he needed to portray. The blood moon was fuller this night and he dared not open an eye this time for fear that the other would notice. Again the blond could feel the eyes falling upon him, tracing the details of his form like an artist capturing life within unmoving memory.

He was, however, closer this time and Naruto could actually feel the heat of his presence as it hovered bedside. He steeled himself. He still wasn't sure what to expect. Was he to be attacked? Would this queer stalking and voyeurism simply continue without event? Or was something else at work here?

A light brush of fingertips across his forehead and along the line of his lips told him that it might indeed be something else. A very significant something else.


Kakashi-sensei informed Naruto the next morning that they would be leaving to return to Konohagakure no Sato the following day. It came as no surprise; they had completed their mission to all satisfaction and had restored the kage of a Hidden Village back to his post. Suna now owed them an even greater debt of gratitude and the bond between the allied Villages would become that much stronger. There was really nothing left but to return home.

Even so, Naruto was unable to shrug away the feeling of disappointment at the news. When the two teams of Konoha-nin were summoned to the Kazekage's office later that day, Naruto was hopeful that he'd finally be allowed the chance to converse with Gaara since they had rescued him. The redhead, however, only addressed them briefly as a group, thanking them for their efforts and expressing his and his people's gratitude and friendship to Konoha with professional tones altogether unfamiliar to Naruto's ears.

Gaara stiffly shook hands with each one of them, and when he came to the blond, Naruto beat him to it and firmly caught his pale thin hand between his own. Gaara looked up and his dark rimmed eyes, in that brief moment, revealed a strange, open gleam that made him chill and hot flash in the same instant, whispering of things that might better be left for darkness.


And so came his final night in Suna. It was late and the sharp cold of the night was a stark contrast to the high temperatures of midday. The rump flank of the wind from the dunes was chill and bespoke of the dry winter that was approaching. Naruto lay there on his back on his hay stuffed mattress, staring blankly at a ceiling that could offer him no answers for the questions and uncertainties burning in his brain. He still wasn't sure what to expect. Would Gaara come again this night? Would he have the chance to see him again before he would be forced to leave with the rest of his comrades? Curiosity at the queerness of it all put aside, he couldn't deny the itch of anticipation tightening his muscles at every miniscule noise that passed by his door.

He knew not how long he laid there in wait nor when exactly he saw the fully gratified hunter's moon wink out in the flood of sleep like a red will-o-the-wisp. All he remembered next was becoming suddenly aware of breath fanning over his face, drawing him awake quicker than ice water. How could he have gotten so close without his realizing it? His mouth, which had fallen open in his sleep, could practically taste him on his tongue, their breath mingling headily like an addictive fume.

Naruto's blue eyes flew open and stared directly into mint green. The moment of reckoning.

Sand trickled uselessly to the ground. A fingertip to brush away the excess, to press and search out the smooth skin underneath. Gaara's lips were dry and Naruto eagerly wetted them to smooth fullness. There was no thought behind it all, no precursor to this explosion of want and feeling. Both boys were too lonely and starved for touch to bother with explanations or declarations. It was Naruto's last night, and they were both tired of pretending. Gaara pinned him to the bed, hands hungry and desperate. Naruto wouldn't have it and he swiftly rolled them over until it was he who hovered above the other. Even in this, Naruto refused to be yield to anyone.

It wasn't beautiful, and it wasn't poetry. There were no whispered words of sweetness and honey-tainted endearments. No false promises and vows of eternity. The two went at each other like snakes wrestling in the grass, rubbing and pressing into each other as if to obtain one form, split personalities fighting for dominance over one mind. Gaara drew the blankets over them - he would not be seen nude under any light, red or otherwise - and he drew the fox boy into himself. Naruto shut his eyes and imagined that Gaara's hands were omnipresent, sweeping, clinging everywhere. Gaara made no sounds of pleasure and said no words - he only breathed hot into his ear - silent mantras. Their cocks pulsed and prodded and burned their stomach flesh like a brand. Gaara drew Naruto out, held him firm, and swallowed his luminosity. He offered up his darkness onto the alter of Naruto's body.

When their sweat had cooled and the sheets had stopped quivering, Naruto found himself lying on his back, fingers idling tickling and dabbling into the stickiness coating Gaara's belly. He was too tired to bother cleaning up and Gaara was clutching at him so fiercely that he doubted he would have been allowed to leave the bed to find a towel.

"Don't leave."

It was the only words that would be said that night. Naruto drew him close, leaning their foreheads together, red blending with gold. He knew what Gaara truly meant; he could hear his thoughts as clearer than spoken word, sharper than his own inner monologue.

I don't want to be alone.

Naruto breathed over him, rubbed his hands upon him, memorizing the feel of his life flowing under his skin, as if to remind them that Gaara was still alive, that they were both still alive. And in that knowledge, how could either of them ever truly be alone again?

In the sky, the hours passed as a story told each and every night. The calm of darkness falling to the brilliance of light. The red moon fled the throne of stars and the golden sun gave chase once more; an eternal dance the two would play out to the end of their existence. But in a small, unremarkable room, in a village of sand and shadows, two vessels of power, locked in an embrace that defied the constants of time, ended their chase, each having finally found the other. And it was more than what either of them could have expected.


~*~OWARI~*~