A Virgin Kiss

Chapter 12: The Gift

They kissed for the longest while. Then they just lay there not talking, just touching, soft little touches. Gaara pulled a pillow case off one pillow and gently wiped Neji’s face and chest, cleaning the cum off of him. He wiped Neji’s ass, cleaning off traces of lube and cum there too. Then Neji shifted on the bed, landing in the damp mess that was where Gaara had ejaculated when Neji had fucking him. Once again, he was smeared with cum.

“We’ve got to shower, Hyuuga, or we’ll have Kiba wacking off under the table,” said Gaara, his voice soft and tender.

Neji snorted, annoyed that Gaara was talking about Kiba and that he still wanted to go out for dinner. `I was just raped, damn it!' Neji protested internally. `But you also just had the best fucking orgasm of your life,' reminded another voice in his mind. `But, god damn it, Gaara doesn't know how good he could have it tonight from me if he’d just shut up about Kiba and that damn dinner! Oh, wait, no, he doesn't deserve anything so good from me!'

Sitting up and tossing his glossy hair, Neji got out of bed without bothering to answer Gaara and stalked into the bathroom. He expected to Gaara to join him there, but he didn’t.

When everything had been washed twice, Neji turned off the shower and dryed himself off and began to comb out his damp hair. His head was bent down, and he was picking apart an annoying knot when he heard Gaara come in. He wouldn’t say anything; he wouldn’t be the first one to talk. He was the victim, damn it! But Gaara just got in the shower silently.

Neji finished combing his hair with his Byukugan active, allowing him to watch Gaara washing without moving his head. His hair didn’t need any more attention, but he kept at it, not wanting to stop watching Gaara even in this indirect sort of way.

The shower went off, and finally, Gaara was the one who broke the silence. “So who’s going to break in on us, Hyuuga? What are those special white eyes of yours seeing?”

The tone in his voice and his words were a challenge, and in an instant, Neji went from victim to rival. He swung his head up, gracefully flipping back his hair. He gave the naked Kazekage a good look from head to toe. “I’m seeing what I like, Red, what I like a lot.”

And then Gaara threw himself at Neji, pulling his head down, kissing him like they’d been apart hours, not minutes.

He pushed Gaara away from him, trying to hide his own pleasure in the Kazekage's response to him, to his passionate kisses, saying, “Hey, Red, you’re getting me all wet again—dry off!” Then he forced himself to walk out of that bathroom leaving that sexy, wet body of red, pink, and white behind.

In the bedroom Neji dressed himself, focusing on staying cool, staying quiet, staying calm. If Gaara wasn’t going to talk about the rape/sex they just had, he wasn’t either. But, hell, just thinking about it again, made Neji need to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyes looked across the room and fell on the white silk shirt he’d bought for Gaara to replace the one he’d sliced off him. Damn, Gaara didn’t believe he’d gotten it for him—but if he’d just put it on, he’d know. The sleeves would be way too short on Neji, but they should be a perfect length for Gaara.

Neji got up and picked up the white silk shirt and rubbed it against his face. When he’d bought this shirt he’d been having all sorts of fantasies about Gaara, but not one that came remotely close to what had just happened after the redhead had fallen asleep. He knew that now he’d never be able to slide into a man’s ass without remembering the pain and pleasure Gaara had made him feel with his cock inside Neji. Now he would now know just what his lover was feeling when he winced with pain or would buck up, straining, pleading for more.

“Go ahead and put it on,” he heard Gaara say.

“What?”

“The shirt you are holding, put it on,” said Gaara.

Neji grinned and pulled on the shirt. The sleeves were too short, and the buttons didn’t quite meet in the front. “Oh, my, what a shock, it’s too small—it’s like it was someone else’s size, someone say about, oh 148 cm tall.”

Gaara’s mouth fell open, and he looked stunned, disbelieving. It was adorable. Neji took the shirt off and walked over to Gaara. He dressed Gaara in it as if he was a mannequin. The shirt fit him perfectly—tight, silky, sexy, and the color of Gaara’s pale skin so that at first glance he looked naked. When Neji had admired Gaara to his fill, Gaara still hadn’t moved or spoken. The dark-haired teen pulled Gaara over to the full-length mirror on the closet door. He stood behind Gaara, watching his face in the mirror as he whispered in his ear, “I think you look fucking hot in this shirt, Red, so hot maybe I should tear it off you before Kiba sees you in it and comes in his pants.”

Gaara’s mouth opened and closed several times, but he said nothing. “Come on, Red, tell me, tell me what you think. Or are you too scared to talk?”

Gaara sighed, saying, “I think you don’t have a clue what you are doing to me, Neji, and what the consequences are. Nobody gives me gifts.”

“Why not? Why don’t you want them, Gaara?” asked Neji, genuinely confused.

“Nobody ever asked me if I wanted them, and I don’t beg. But I’ll always treasure this, Neji, always. It’s my first gift, and I love—I really love it, I love it.”

Neji felt a sharp pain in his chest—no one had ever given Gaara a gift? No one had ever kissed Gaara? What the fuck was wrong with those idiots in Suna? How could they not want to kiss those lips—and Neji spun Gaara around and kissed him, kissed him to show him how loveable he was, how desirable he was. And Gaara was shaking and trembling in his arms, clinging to him, to Neji, like he was going to run away or vanish. He’d looked up everything he could find on Gaara today—he would be sixteen January 19th.

“Spend your birthday with me this January, Gaara. I’ll give you sixteen gifts to make up for those fools,” Neji whispered in a husky voice.

“I love you, Neji.”

It was Neji’s turn to freeze in shock, both at Gaara’s words and the bolt of happiness that ran through him when he heard that. But Gaara’s trembling increased, and Neji couldn’t let him hurt.

“Oh, Gaara, god, Red, I, I want you too, I—oh, damnit, I don’t know if what I feel is love—it’s more than lust—but it’s too fast, it’s too soon. God, can’t you let me get used to the fact I’m an uke before you hit me with another shock?”

“Neji, you don’t have to be uke if you don’t want—“

“Red, you fool, you think that I--oh god, I think I might love you because why else would I tolerate such stupidity? Didn’t you hear me scream? I don’t scream, Gaara, I never scream. You made me scream for you. Holy shit, it’s not even been twenty-four hours, and you’ve taken me and turned me into a ball of needy mush that begs for it.”

“You didn’t beg, Neji.”

“I didn’t?”

“Oh, no, I’ve had people beg me before, and I can tell you, you didn’t beg.”

“God, Red, now all I want is for you to make me beg—god damn it, in another day you’ll have me sucking on your toes and wearing a dress.”

“I love you, Neji.”

“Oh, god, Gaara, I think I might love you too.” And then Neji gently pulled Gaara close and let his tongue trace over the kanji for love on Gaara’s forehead.

As the sun set on Konoha, the two stood there kissing, then staring, then kissing. They might have stood there all night just looking and kissing, just tasting each other and exploring this new scary world of emotions, but Temari pulled them out of the spell that seemed to hold them there in the darkening room together.

She didn’t try the door knob or even attempt to enter this time. She just called out, “Hey, little brother, Shikamaru and I got invited to this barbeque party too. You ready to walk over?”

Neji pulled up his mouth, waiting to hear what Gaara would say. But Gaara just whispered to Neji, “What did she say?” in dazed way that made Neji’s heart finally decide he too was in love.

“Just give us five minutes, Temari-san, we’ll meet you in the hall then,” Neji called out, sounding a bit dazed himself. Then he whispered in Gaara’s ear, “First one dressed and in the hall gets to decide what we do first tonight, love. Deal?”