Broke Straight Guys

Broke Straight Guys

A fun little writing horror story for you people out there who've had this happen to them: This chapter was halfway finished when I went to bed… Then I wake up and my computer has rebooted itself for no apparent reason. I figure 'no problem, I've got AutoSave!' I open Word. The AutoSave screen doesn't show up. The entire chapter is completely gone. A week and a half of work down the drain. *cue much foaming at the mouth*

So there was some confusion in regards to the last chapter's ending. I think I explained it to everyone who asked, but here's a summary: Naruto nearly had an orgasm on the massage table, Haku is having horrible unspecified things done to her somewhere, a guy broke into Gaara's house, and now Sasuke and Bee are about to get shot in the face. That sounds like everything.

Carousel- Yes, quite a lot has gone on, hasn't it?

Sneakyfox- See above. :D

volaju66- Believe me, I too was disappointed they didn't do it. But it's wasn't to be. Oh well.

0o0

Trigger-Happy Tease

0o0

The thickness of the air was palpable and the two men sitting on the couch found that a sour taste had settled heavily into their mouths in the short span of time that the man in black had been standing there. Glinting malevolently, the pistol was jabbed forward by the intruder as he took a step and repeated his prior demand to know their names. To speak would to perhaps survive or else die with their names bearing on their murderer's miniscule conscience. Speech was attempted. Silence came out. The phone line had gone stone dead a few seconds ago, abruptly ending the screams of Haku, wherever she was. There was little relief in it.

"Are you fucking deaf? Tell me who you are or I'll blast you to Kingdom Come!"

Heart thumping manically, Killerbee watched with increasing horror as Gaara stormed across the living room. Instincts kicking in, he sprung up and tried to stop him, only to be casually brushed off. Fear rooted him to where he stood as his lover got closer and closer to the criminal. What good were his fighting skills now? Guns almost always beat fists. His own weakness disgusted him, further adding to the sickness that surged violently through his gut. What a coward he was! Gaara didn't have anything to protect himself with and still possessed the stupid bravery to confront the man.

"Gaara, please…" Killerbee whispered, throat clenched in an iron grip. His boyfriend was going to die and he couldn't do anything to save him. He was weak, no better than when he was a child. Eyes burning and wet, his already impaired vision further hazed, making it difficult to see even through his prescription lenses.

Bold in a way that bordered on insanity, Gaara marched up to the man in black and glowered at him with a ferocity previously unseen by the other men. Nostrils curled in anger like a bull about to run down a matador, he tilted his head up in a ridiculous confidence and narrowed his eyes.

He opened his mouth.

"What the hell have I told you about doing this? Look at you! Your hands are covered in blood! And did you really have to come here with whatever those are supposed to be for? Really?" Gaara peered around the thug, firing up for an extension of the rant. "For the last time, wipe your feet on the mat before you come in! Where were you, the river? Don't deny it, you were. You've tracked mud everywhere! You will be cleaning that up."

"Gaara—" Killerbee choked out, jerking his foot forward a few inches, groping desperately for his lover.

"What were you doing—wait, I don't want to know. I'll just pretend that you were only torturing someone and that I don't have to be part of a murder investigation."

"He's crazy…" Sasuke muttered, glued to the couch.

All eyes were on the huffing masseuse, waiting for the inevitable gunshot that would end him.

"Are you finished?" the intruder queried calmly.

"Not by a long shot. I'll save the rest for later. Now get this mess cleaned up before I shove my foot so far up your ass that your grandchildren will be able to tell my shoe size."

"I missed you too, 'cuz."

Pocketing his weapons, the man spread his arms wide as if expecting a hug.

"Don't you dare touch me with those bloody hands, Sasori! I've burned enough clothes because of your carelessness!"

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Sasori reached out and smeared bloody handprints across the entirety of Gaara's shirt. "Looks good on ya, 'cuz."

"Dammit, Sasori!"

"Are you going to introduce me to your guests or did Auntie Karura not teach you how?"

Grudgingly Gaara turned to the bewildered onlookers and said, "This is my cousin Sasori. Pretend you didn't see anything you just saw."

Sasori drew back his hood and gave a little wave. He had the same red curls of his cousin and if they hadn't explained their familial link, they could've been taken for twins.

"Seriously, don't say anything. I hear you squealed and I'll gut you like a pig and hang you by your entrails, capiche?" Temporarily hardened by the grave nature of the situation his eerily familiar features quickly melted back into that aloof cat smile.

"This is not happening," Sasuke groaned, burying his face in his hands. Obviously God didn't think that gay porn wasn't a bad enough life experience under his belt.

Studying the man on the couch intensely for a moment, Sasori sauntered forward and drew his gun once more, pressing the cold muzzle to the center of Sasuke's forehead. "Isn't this the guy who's been stalking you? What are you doing here, you little shit?"

"Sasori, wait—"

"Don't worry, 'cuz. He won't hurt you any more." The grin became absolutely wicked. "Hope ya like the afterlife, punk."

"Sasori, that's not him!"

"It isn't?" Looking closer, Sasori seemed disappointed as he retracted his gun. "My bad."

Sasuke gaped at the thug. "Are you fucking kidding me? 'My bad'? That's all you can say when you were about to blow my fucking brains out? What's wrong with you?"

"Sometimes you make mistakes. Life sucks that way. But I didn't, which is what's really important. Would've been a shame if I had. You're pretty cute, now that I think about it. I could still blow your brains out, but in the good way. Yanno what I mean?" Sasori winked.

"What about Deidara?" Gaara inquired coolly.

"Dei kicked me out again. I'm tired of it. I'm never going back to him."

"You said that last time."

"I mean it."

"You said that too."

"Whatever." Sasori ran his finger down Sasuke's cheek. "Let's say I take you back to the bedroom and we have a good time."

"Let's not and never bring it up again." Sasuke smacked the hand away.

"Feisty. I like." Sasori licked his lips lasciviously.

"Hands off, Sasori. He's not interested." There was a hint of warning in Gaara's voice.

"Fine. I didn't even want him that much in the first place." Sasori nearly pouted. "Your new taste in men is shitty. I can do better than your sloppy seconds."

Sputtering complaints loudly, Sasuke tried to string together a coherent sentence. Gaara did it for him. "We're not together."

"Really?" Sasori's eyes brightened instantly. He turned back to Sasuke. "I didn't mean what I said, babe. I was jealous of Gaara scoring a hottie like you. Won't you forgive me?"

"No!"

"Now you know what it's like, bastard. That happens every time I go somewhere with Gaara." Finally Naruto could get some sympathy from Sasuke… not. He doubted Sasuke was capable of such a thing. It was too human.

Sasori had completely shut out the entire world except for Sasuke. "I can take you to heaven and back in just thirty minutes, babe. Come ride the golden stairway express. No delays and I always deliver my load on time. If you like it, I'll give you the special ticket so you can ride all night long…"

"Gaara, I hate your cousin. Just so you know. Because I do. If you bring him to our place, I'll kill you." Sasori buried his nose in Sasuke's hair. Sasuke gave him a solid stomach punch that made him stagger back slightly. "And don't say that was uncalled for, because it wasn't."

"Sasori, stop trying to hit on my friends and hand 'em over. You know the rules." Gaara stuck out his hand.

Sasori unloaded the gun and handed the bullets to Gaara. "What's the point of a gun without bullets?"

"The point is so you don't accidentally shoot someone I care about."

"I'd never do such a thing."

"If you don't mind me interjecting, I must admit to being somewhat lost." Killerbee surveyed the newcomer uneasily. "I question whether or not I should ask about the blood on your hands."

"I was taking care of some business. Don't worry about it too much."

Naturally that made Killerbee worry more.

"So Gaara, you know you're my favorite cousin, right?"

"You can stay as long as you don't try to bring dead bodies here… again."

"Come on, a guy brings a stiff over one time and you're busting his balls about it for the rest of his life!"

"Start cleaning before I change my mind." Weary from the day's activities, Gaara turned to Naruto slowly. "How's your back?"

"Kinda sore, but not as bad as before. Thanks. Sorry for ruining your evening."

"Trust me, you didn't ruin it. He did." He jabbed his thumb at his cousin, who was rummaging through the closet in search of a mop. "Can you get home alright? I'd drive you, but I'm exhausted…"

"We'll take the subway. We should be fine as long as Naruto can walk." Finally, time to get out of this hellhole. Sasuke didn't even mind that much when faced with the potential prospect of helping his friend up several flights of stairs when they arrived home.

"Hey babe—"

"You don't have a license, Sasori. Besides, the last time you drove you got drunk and smashed through the wall of a bank."

"Ancient history. I'm not even drunk."

"I'm too damn tired to argue with you. Finish cleaning and we'll talk in the morning." Gaara tried to massage the dull migraine that pulsed insistently at the corners of his head. "And for god's sake, stay away from my car."

"Should I leave?" Killerbee asked hesitantly. He wasn't how sure he could face Gaara after his display of cowardice in a time of crisis.

"Do you want to?"

The sensible thing to do would be to decline and wallow in his self-pity at home. "If you don't mind having me."

"Good. I didn't want to sleep alone tonight."

Shuffling off like a zombie, Gaara managed to find his way to his room. While Killerbee watched, he changed his shirt and got in bed. He was out by the time his head hit the pillow.

I0I0I0I0I

Daytime came again, as it tended to. Still groggy, Gaara laid still with his eyes shut, trying to mentally prep himself for the day. He'd have to remind Sasori of the rules that came with staying here, buy more groceries, and perform the mundane work that he did on days such as these. Then he would go to the restaurant and try to avoid Konohamaru's verbal assaults and the murderous sous chef, who had taken a fancy towards sitting uncomfortably close to him during staff meetings. He didn't dare bother trying to fathom what that meant. If it was friendship the man was looking for, he'd be sorely disappointed. One killer in his inner circle was more than enough. Getting out of bed would mean confronting reality and for the time being, he'd like to stay in dreamland for a little longer.

Part of being a scientist meant increasing awareness to minute changes in a subject or environment, so Killerbee caught on to Gaara's possum act quickly when he noticed the difference in his breathing pattern. Feeling playful, he mused, "It's a shame Gaara isn't awake, or I'd give him a good morning kiss."

A slight muscle twitch implied that his lover had heard him loud and clear, but intended to keep up the charade.

"Perhaps I should it anyway."

There, a tensing of anticipation.

Hovering over his boyfriend, Killerbee pressed his lips in a butterfly-soft kiss to Gaara's thin eyelids. Unable to carry on faking it, Gaara let the sunshine in and as his pupils contracted to regulate the amount of light allowed to pass through, Killerbee came into sight. Starting the day felt better with him around.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty."

"Morning." Gaara gave his lover a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Not that this isn't a great conversation and all, but if you'll excuse me, I have to pee."

Gaara rolled out of bed and was soon down the hall, relieving himself in a single satisfying rush. Before he could even consider returning, he looked at himself in the mirror. Hair skewed wildly at every angle, the half curls running rampant in a typical case of bedhead. There were pillow marks on his cheek and some sleep crust in the corners of his eyes and his morning breath could probably wilt a daisy in a single gust. There he stood in his bathroom, studying himself in this natural state in the mirror like an odd surrealist creation: 'Gaara, Unwashed'. Straight out of bed didn't make much of a pretty visage.

Did Killerbee like an unwashed him as much as the regular version? He'd have to find that out. He leaves—but not before purging the stinking bacteria out of his mouth with some Listerine. There had to be some standards.

Though he wasn't as tired as he had been as he woke up, he crawled back into bed and snuggled up with Killerbee. "Miss me?"

"Always."

"Do you have class today?"

"No."

"Good. Neither do I." Gaara rested his hand on his boyfriend's side, feeling the muscles that had been painstakingly sculpted. "I was thinking we could get brunch and maybe do something later."

"What did you have in mind?"

"There's a coffeehouse I go to that has some local bands coming in to play for the rest of the day. It might be fun to get some live music."

"You might be right." Killerbee paused, wondering how he should bring up the next topic. He'd been thinking about the pseudo-break-in for a while before he'd eventually drifted off to sleep.

"Something bothering you?"

"I'm sorry about last night."

"Sorry about what?" Was there even anything to be apologizing for in the first place?

"I couldn't protect you."

"Protect me from Sasori?" Sure, the guy waved his guns around a bit too freely to be considered entirely rational, but he was used to it.

"No, protect you from someone who I thought had broken into your house to rob you… or worse. With all the training I've done for my body, I've neglected tempering the strength of my will. All I could do was stand there."

"It was just Sasori, though. He wouldn't hurt me."

"But what if it wasn't? What if it had someone who did want to hurt you? If that had been anyone else, you would have died."

"But you're basing that completely on 'ifs'."

"It's foolish to assume that the worst will never happen."

"It's paranoid to assume it will." Gaara pulled away from Killerbee, sitting up rigidly. "And what makes you so sure I want you to protect me in the first place? I can handle myself."

What was he saying? One of the reasons he liked Killerbee was because he felt like nothing bad could ever happen to him while they were together. What was this contrary mess coming out of his mouth?

Killerbee's face tightened a little. "I'll have to remember that the next time you're about to take a bullet."

The world stopped simultaneously for the both of them. Fearing more hurtful things would come out, neither spoke. Gazing silently at one another, they stayed like that for a while.

"I'm sorry," Killerbee whispered.

"Me too." Gaara laid back down and huddled close to Killerbee.

"I didn't mean it. I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt because I chose to do nothing."

"I don't think you're paranoid. You make me feel safe enough already."

Even so, he still wanted to make himself stronger. He would have to ask his mother for advice, if she was even willing to talk to him long enough to give him some. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Killerbee put his arm around Gaara and they soaked in the apology.

"I guess that was our first fight." Gaara looked down, ashamed that such a pleasant discussion had degraded so quickly. "Do you think they'll get worse?"

"It's not for us to know. We can only hope for the best." Killerbee's eyes crinkled in a smile as he let his hand drift lower to rest on the small of Gaara's back. "And when we do fight, we can always make up."

"I like the sound of that…"

One pale naked foot stroked down a meaty calf as they weaved themselves deeper into each other. A massive paw ran through Gaara's red hair, teasing the scalp. Lips smacked softly against each other as the pair made up the best they could. Fighting might not be so bad if this was what happened afterward. Voicing small pleasures as the kisses grew deeper and sweeter, the pair felt their skins heat in a lazy, slow-curling excitement.

Out of nowhere, the fire alarm began screeching like a woman getting murdered and flooded their smoldering passion in a relentless typhoon.

"Hey 'cuz, how do you turn this thing off?"

"Goddammit."

I0I0I0I0I

Suppressing a groan, Naruto tried to stay as still as possible. The pain was back with a vengeance. He had been hoping Gaara's magic fingers could cure it, but it seemed like he'd be stuck popping ibuprofen for however long this lasted. Having the pain ruined everything, like the sexy wake-up call he was currently receiving. Perched over his prostrate body was Tenten, a devious glint in her eye as she swayed lower, lapping at his soft prick. She'd come late last night with the intention to help Naruto recuperate. Apparently this was her method of doing so.

"I'm flattered and all, but I right now I could really use a heat wrap and some painkillers."

Rolling her eyes, Tenten went into the bathroom and retrieved the requested items. She heated the pack in the microwave and fixed a glass of water, returning as soon as possible in hopes of getting him back into full working condition. Something in her boyfriend's blissful face as she wedged the heat wrap under him and gave him the medicine ticked her off. Since when were pills and wraps better than some good ol'-fashioned oral for curing what ails you? To be honest, she was almost disappointed in him for succumbing to a little soreness.

Tough it out, as Dad would say. Be strong and tough it out for Daddy, okay? That's what he said the day Mom left to go be with that other man. Maybe he thought she'd need the assurance. She didn't, but she liked it anyway. It let her know that he cared. The divorce didn't bother her as much as it bothered other kids she knew whose parents had been divorced. Now she got him all to herself. Actually, once that woman was out of the picture, she'd been even happier than before. They did everything together. Camping, fishing, hiking, you name it, they did it. She pushed herself to the limits whenever he taught her something new. Living with just Dad was a different and singularly special adventure every day.

Every once in a while, he got her little presents, including the first real gun she ever owned: a Ruger Super Redhawk revolver. To her, it was the most beautiful thing in the world, the way that brushed steel shone in the light. Her mother would've had a fit. Mom hated guns, thought they were too dangerous. Dad knew better. He taught her how to handle them the right way. Once she graduated from standard target practice, he took her hunting for whitetail. More than a decade later and she could still remember the smile on his face when she brought down her first buck in perfect clarity. Sure, it was only a four-pointer, but the pride that shone in his eyes never failed to make a warmth glow in the pit of her belly.

Then he had the heart attack.

That too was an event that remained disturbingly clear in the banks of her memory. They were at a diner called 'Meg's' where they always ate at whenever she won a competition. This time it had been for getting second place in trick-shooting. She'd tossed up thirteen clay pigeons and shot all of them down before they could hit the earth. The kid who'd beat her did the same, but with a pump-action shotgun instead, so he got extra points. Dad said that second place could slide this time. They had the usual on their plates: freshly made burgers dripping with their own juices and topped with a slice of sharp cheddar cheese that melted into the bun just so, with fries on the side and a milkshake. Chocolate for Dad, strawberry for Tenten.

Dad was just finishing off his fries when he noticed something wasn't quite right. He looked at his left arm curiously and the next thing she knew, they were in the back of an ambulance. While she sat in the waiting room, the nurses complimented her inner strength in such a difficult time. She didn't think it was so special. She already knew he was going to make it. She was more upset that she didn't get to finish eating.

He toughed it out.

But things changed. Dad didn't seem to have as much energy as he used to. The early morning runs he used to go on with her got shorter and shorter until they stopped completely. The doctors said he was supposed to be getting exercise, but he couldn't muster up the will. He started an aspirin regiment, choking down the pills with water while trying to grin and bear it. Not even their food was spared. No more burgers at Meg's. Oatmeal became a disgusting and common nutritional source. He tried to liven it up by putting some berries in it once in a while, but she still thought it tasted terrible. Mortality seemed to drag on him every day until it grew almost painful to look at him.

The second heart attack came a few months later.

He couldn't tough it out. Feeling like the part of her that was supposed to cry had been injected with a heavy dose of anesthesia, she left the hospital when she heard the news and caught a bus home. Life went on as usual until CPS came. Fourteen was too young to be living on her own, they said. She thought she'd been doing pretty well for herself. They placed her back in the care of her mother, the woman who she hadn't seen for nearly seven years and the man she now lived with.

In the beginning, her mother tried to relate to her. Each attempt invariably came back to the same conclusion. Her daughter was a hopeless tomboy. She stopped trying and for that, Tenten was grateful. From day one she was an outsider who had wandered into a house of strangers and the divide showed, especially at dinner. Mom, her husband, and stepsister would chat amiably with one another until they remembered someone else was at the table. Someone would look at Tenten and then dead silence would fall over the room. She couldn't say she blamed them. She was a dam in their happy little stream and now their flow was ruined.

It was more than just her mother who couldn't quite handle the newcomer. Faintly she recognized that her stepsister Tayuya disliked her with a passion that she would let out when she played her damn flute every night, her revenge on this stranger with furious fits of freestyle trills and accelerandos that would drive nearly anyone insane. Tenten got an mp3 player for Christmas. While not what she'd asked for—apparently even purchasing a scope and some duck calls was too nerve-wracking for her mother's delicate sensibilities—the problem was fixed. The dinner problem was fixed by eating in her room with the door shut and locked. Originally she didn't see a need to do so until she decided to clean her guns after a meal and her mother, who happened to walk by as she was counting bullets, burst into hysterical tears at the sight.

After a few weeks they settled into a routine where Tenten ignored them and they ignored her for the most part as well, which wasn't hard given the fact that she joined nearly every athletic team the school had to offer and was constantly at practice for one thing or another. Her mother urged her to take up an instrument instead of abusing her body thusly, but she much preferred a bruise to the blues. Perhaps she had a slight masochistic streak. Running until she thought her legs would fall off and then doing another half mile made her feel giddy in ways she couldn't describe and there was nothing that could beat the soaring rush of scoring a winning goal. The people were nice and easy to get along with. In fact, she lost her virginity to one of her teammates after an away game. Nice guy, but not what she was looking for in a relationship.

She wondered why she was thinking of all this. It'd been a while since the memory of her father had popped up, let alone any of the crap that came afterwards.

"Wow, you really were a million miles away."

She looked down. She was still standing at Naruto's bedside.

"Daydreaming?"

"Sorta."

"I gotta make an important phone call. Could you see what Sasuke did with my phone? I'm pretty sure he has it."

Shrugging neutrally, she went to Sasuke's room and knocked on his door. She really hoped Naruto got better soon. She wasn't good at this 'nurturing' junk. "Hey Sas, Naruto wants his phone. You got it?"

No one answered. Scratching noises started coming from around her feet and when she looked down, the guy was trying to squeeze the phone under the door. Failing miserably, he retracted it and opened the door instead.

"Here. Don't fucking wake me up again."

"Can I ask you something?"

He tried to close the door. Tenten wedged her foot in it. He scowled. "Is it 'why did Naruto choose me to annoy the hell out of his roommate?'"

"No."

"Then odds are I'm not going to answer it. I gave you what you want. Leave."

"Not until I ask you something."

Sasuke stood on her foot, pressing his full weight on it. "I'm tired. I'm going back to bed. Get your foot out of my fucking door."

"You better cut that shit out. I haven't done a single thing wrong to you. Or do you just get your kicks on being an ass to me?" She wasn't afraid. She'd played boy's football. Sasuke Uchiha was nothing compared to some of the offensive linemen she faced in her day.

"How I get my kicks is none of your business and they certainly don't involve you. Look, I'm going to be honest with you right now. I don't like you. I don't have a reason for not liking you, nor do I need one. Got it?"

"I'm reading you loud and clear." Tenten began to retract her foot. "But we're not finished."

"Of course not." As soon as the blockage was cleared, he slammed the door in her face.

The phone rang in her hand. She answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, you must be Tenten! Nice to meet you—well, I guess this isn't technically meeting, but still—anyway, I was just calling to let Naruto know that I was coming over in a bit."

"What? Why?"

"We got in a bit of an argument yesterday and I wanted to apologize. How's his back?"

"Fine, I guess. He took some medicine for it."

"Good. I should be there in a few minutes. Could you put him on?"

Tenten leaned into her boyfriend's room long enough to toss him his phone. "It's for you. I'm going out."

"Be back soon."

Naruto watched Tenten disappear and listened to Sakura for a few minutes.

"So it's fine with you if I come over?"

"Yeah. Hate to cut you off, but I got a call I need to make."

"Sure thing. See ya."

"Bye." Hanging up, he immediately went through his history of received calls and found an unknown number. He called it.

"We were wondering when you'd call, Mr. Uzumaki."

"Did you call this number last night?"

"Yes, we did."

"Are you friends with a girl named Haku?"

"Friends, no. Acquaintances… Well, perhaps I should let her talk to you."

"Please do." Naruto was trying to not come to the worst possible conclusion. There could've been all sorts of reasons for hearing her screaming.

"I'm so sorry for getting you into this Naruto. It's all my fault." Haku's voice quavered.

"Getting me into what? Where are you? Do you need help?"

"I turned down the wrong guys at a bar. I don't know where I am. They say they want fifty thousand dollars. They found your number in my purse. I'm sorry…"

"Don't be sorry. What do these guys look like?"

"I don't know… I haven't seen them, except for the guy who was hitting on me. He was—"

A short, agonized scream abruptly blasted through the phone's speaker.

"Are you okay?"

"Our friend Haku is not quite as skilled in these negotiations as we are… So we're taking over again."

"Put Haku back on!"

"Ahh, I see your girlfriend has caused you undue grief. She doesn't understand. Getting the money will be a breeze. We'll even give you a big time window. Have it by Thanksgiving and she'll go free. Otherwise we'll have to cut our losses. I'm sure your next girlfriend will be just as nice as her."

"You fucker! Put Haku on now!"

"Since you insist. But no more questions about us. Remember, fifty thousand dollars by turkey day. No cops. We don't like cops. You've got three minutes."

"Haku, are you there? Are you okay?"

"They t-taised me. But I'm f-fine, really…"

"I'll find a way to get you out of there. I swear!"

"Time's up, Romeo."

"That wasn't three minutes!"

"Life sucks that way. Deal with it."

The dial tone sounded final and heavy in his ear.

I0I0I0I0I

"They're so terrible. It's like a train wreck."

"Do you think he knows that he's completely off key?"

Gaara hid his smile behind a mug of his favorite hot chocolate. "I highly doubt it. If there's any way to explain their sound, I'd be hard pressed to describe it."

Killerbee was having the same, his moustache flecked with drops of whipped cream. "I was thinking along the lines of 'cat getting run over by a bus that's getting hit by a plane'."

"Sounds about right." Gaara leaned over and removed the whipped cream with a short lick. "Eech, I got hair in my mouth…"

Killerbee smiled and watched his boyfriend try to wipe the hairs off his tongue. "That's what you get for messing with the beard."

"Let's see how much the beard likes it when I don't kiss it anymore."

"The beard would be sad. The beard loves you very much."

"I suppose I can forgive the beard this time." Gaara gave him a short kiss on the chin, where it was the densest.

Killerbee's phone vibrated in his pocket. "Hold on, the beard is getting a call. Hello?"

Killerbee's good mood immediately darkened.

"Yes. She did? Well what's in it? Then go ask her. So she didn't open it but she knows it's mine? Don't hang up Karui!" His sister obviously didn't comply with his request, because he stuffed the phone back into his pocket. Killerbee shook his head, chuckling sadly. "Have I mentioned that my family and I don't get along very well?"

"What did your sister want?"

"Apparently Maman found a box of my things while she was cleaning and wants me to take them today or she'll throw it all away. She doesn't even know what's in the box, but she's going to do it anyway. She can be very foolish at times."

"Are you going to get the box?"

"I don't know. I'd like to see what's in it, so I guess I should go. I think my father should be at work around now."

"Do you want me to take you?"

"If you don't mind listening to the sordid story of why I try to avoid my family, then I'd like that very much. I hate to burden you with it, but I thought I should probably do it in case you think it's ever a good idea to meet them."

"It's not a burden. Finished?"

"Yes."

They stood, stashing a few dollars as a tip into the tip jar as they passed the counter. When safely on their way through traffic, Killerbee said, "Well, I suppose I should start at the beginning, right?"

"That makes the most sense."

"My father is from Iran. He fled the country when the Shah was overthrown…" He gave a sideways glance at Gaara. "That was the seventies, in case you didn't know."

"I didn't. I failed World History."

"So, he fled and came to America to live the American dream and all that. Maman was from the Congo. She didn't want to come to America. She got caught up in human trafficking and ended up as servant to some rich old woman. She only spoke French, so she couldn't get anyone to help her. They met in a grocery store and afterwards kept running into each other on the street or in a store, almost like it was fate. My father helped Maman improve her English and Maman converted to Islam, which is kind of strange because I'm pretty sure most of the Congo is Catholic, and they got married. They had my brother, then me, and then my sister, in that order."

"So you've got a brother too?"

"Yeah. His name's Raakim, but I call him Rai. I couldn't pronounce his name when I was younger and it sort of stuck with me."

"Same thing for Karui?"

"No, I just call her that because it makes her angry." Killerbee laughed and continued with his story. "So the three of us kids started to grow up. Rai was always the good son, he listened to what my father said. Karui was pretty well-behaved too. I was always the black sheep. My father thought marine biology was a silly, frivolous field to go into. He wanted me to be a civil engineer like him. I have to say, it does make good money, but I'm simply not interested in that sort of thing. We all graduated high school, but at very different times because Rai is eight years older than me and Karui is three years younger than me. Rai became a civil engineer and Karui is doing a degree in women's studies, I think… But that's not important. Take a left here."

"The one coming up or the one after it?"

"Coming up. There should be a place to park across the street from it."

Gaara parked. "I have a feeling there's more to this story."

"There is. You were about to miss the turn, though."

"So now that we're here we can finish."

"Yes… So I eventually found out my preference for men and since I was still living with my parents at the time, I thought it best not to tell them. Things were working out just fine until my boyfriend at the time came over unannounced and tried to get touchy-feely at the front door. My father was furious. He chased the guy off and then started to beat me with the first thing he could find—his Koran, in case you were wondering. After some of that, he realized that punching would work better but I started to fight back and Rai jumped in trying to break the fight up and Maman started crying and Karui wasn't there, so she didn't really matter, and then the landlord called the cops on us. Everyone got arrested except Maman because she didn't do anything. My father tried to press domestic violence charges on me for fighting back, but Maman talked him out of it by saying that I'd move out. When she was telling him this, I was in the hospital trying to recuperate from the broken nose and the fractured ribs and the other injuries I sustained. After she told him that, she came to the hospital and told me the same thing."

"She didn't even ask if you wanted to leave in the first place?"

"As I said before, Maman can be quite foolish. So I got out of the hospital, got an apartment, and started to go to college and now I'm here with you."

"Bee… How can you be so nonchalant about this?"

"It used to bother me, but I've more or less got over it since I've been away from them a few years."

"Will your father be home?"

"Hopefully not. Don't worry, he'll be trying to kill me, not you."

"Would he really kill you?"

"Maybe."

Killerbee got out of the car and waited to be buzzed in to the apartment complex. Gaara caught up with him on the second flight. Even though he pretended that everything was fine, Gaara could see Killerbee's nervousness. He offered his hand. Killerbee held it the rest of the way up, giving it a final squeeze of fortification before letting go and opening the door. The apartment looked like it belonged in a furniture catalogue. Gaara hadn't been sure what to expect, but it wasn't that. Karui greeted them with a degree of annoyance and pointed towards a room down the hall, explaining that several boxes had been discovered, not the original single box that she had said on the phone.

"Where's Maman, Kareema?"

"Laying down in her bedroom. She didn't want to see you if you were still attracted to men and I'm even surer that she doesn't want to meet your boyfriend, if that's what you brought him here for." Having thrown out her two cents worth, she trotted back to her room.

"Damn. If there's more than one box, I won't be able to check them all. We should just hurry up and get the whole deal before my father comes home."

There were in fact four boxes and while running up and down the stairs was knee-achingly tedious, they were soon on the last box. It was a great deal lighter than the others, so Gaara could easily carry it.

"That went pretty well, don't you think?" Gaara asked as they began making their way down the stairs once more.

"I wouldn't speak so soon…" The sheer dread in Killerbee's voice made Gaara's stomach lurch.

Gaara looked at the foot of the landing. A stout Iranian man leered up at them and yelled, "Rashid!"

After that initial cry the language immediately switched to Persian and Gaara stopped being able to understand anything being said. The shouting grew in magnitude as Killerbee's father blocked their paths so they couldn't make it down the last two flights. Wild gestures added to the massive confusion as he tried to follow what was going on. It did come to a point where it started to diminish a hint, but the man pointed at Gaara and said something that was likely some horrible insult. Killerbee let loose an enraged shout and punched his father. The man staggered back a few steps and Killerbee put his arm around Gaara and began to escort him downstairs as quickly as was reasonably safe. Once they hit the outside world, the man caught up with them and delivered a glancing blow to his son's cheek. They went back to yelling, Killerbee pulling Gaara closer to him.

The dispute continued on and on long enough for one of the high-strung residents of the apartment building to come home from grocery shopping. She took one look at the men and heard what they were speaking and cried out, "Terrorists!"

She dropped her groceries and whipped out her cellphone and dialed 911. "Yes, I need the police now. There are two terrorists arguing in front of my apartment building and there's a box and I don't know what's in it and they've got a hostage—"

"What? No! I'm not a hostage! They're not terrorists!" Gaara protested. "You stupid woman, what are you doing?"

"Saving the lives of millions!" She returned her attention to the phone. "The box is about the size of an old computer monitor. I think it might be carrying a bomb."

"There's no bomb!"

"They're making the hostage hold the box."

"I'm not a freaking hostage!" He tugged on Killerbee's shirt sleeve. "Bee, let's go! That crazy lady is calling the police!"

The harsh barrage of Persian stopped flooding from his mouth, turning to see who was going to end up getting them all sent to jail. "What are you doing?"

"That's what I said!"

"Don't worry, sir! The police are on their way!" The woman pulled out a can of pepper spray. "You two, don't come any closer!"

"I don't need the police!"

"Don't even think about using that bomb, terrorist!"

"It's not a bomb!" Killerbee yelled, though he wasn't sure why everyone was still yelling.

"He's my boyfriend, not a terrorist!" Shortly thereafter Gaara added, "That other guy is his dad! He doesn't want us to be together!"

"Lies! How could you betray your own country?"

"Should we go?" Killerbee couldn't say that he was particularly fond of the men in blue.

"If the police are already coming, then we might as well stay and try to explain what's really going on. They should let us go."

It took the cops a full twenty-five minutes to show up and they were in no mood for monkey business. Or maybe that was just the four officers advancing on them with guns drawn that gave that impression.

"Put your hands up where we can see 'em, slowly! And you with the box, slowly lower it to the ground!"

"This is a misunderstanding!" Killerbee tried to reason with them the way Gaara suggested they had. "We're not terrorists, no one's being held hostage!"

"Cuff them, now."

Killerbee and his father allowed themselves to be cuffed but apparently hostages didn't have to do the same thing. Even after Gaara explained the reality of the situation, the officers still looked skeptical.

"So lemme get this straight, you're gay."

"Yes." This was the third time he'd tried to explain it to the officer in charge.

"And that guy over there is gay too?"

"Yes, he's my boyfriend."

"…Did he do time?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"I'm being very serious, sir."

"He's never been to prison. Why?"

"I could believe you being regular gay. But he looks like prison gay, so I'm guessing he just got out of prison if he's still doing men. What was he in prison for?"

Gaara clenched his teeth. "He didn't go to prison."

"He's right. I just got the call back from dispatch. He's got a clean record," said one of the younger officers.

"So none of you have any past crimes."

"Correct."

"Now let me ask you this: why do you hate our country?"

"This is going to take all night, isn't it?"

At least he'd have an interesting excuse for not showing up to work today.

I0I0I0I0I

"Hey shithead, how's the back?"

"Fine. Let's get something to eat." Naruto sat up and stretched.

"Chinese?" Sasuke had to admit he had a hankering for some lo mein.

"Nah, pizza. The usual."

Sasuke placed the order and took a seat on Naruto's bed. "Tenten didn't come back?"

"No. She didn't explain why either."

"Hn." Sasuke grunted.

"So that girl who called me last night…"

"The tranny?"

"She's not a tranny!"

"You were saying?"

"I called that number back today and found out she's been kidnapped. I have to get fifty grand by Thanksgiving or they'll kill her and I can't go to the police. I tried calling the kidnappers again after we talked, but the line had been disconnected. I can't let her die. How do I get fifty thousand dollars in less than a month?"

"Let me see your phone."

Naruto passed it to him. "Should I try the police?"

"Fuck the police." He dialed the number and got the disconnected line, like Naruto had said. "Don't worry, I'll take care of this."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The doorbell rang and as Sasuke got up to answer it, he mussed Naruto's hair and gave him the appearance of a man slightly electrocuted. "It means 'don't worry, I'll take care of this', you retard. Go back to first grade and relearn English."

"What are you going to do?"

"It doesn't matter, does it? Results are what matters."

"You're not going to pay the money, are you?"

"Pfft, that'd be a waste of fifty grand if I ever heard one. There's more than one way to skin a cat, moron."

"You're kinda freaking me out, man. Why are you being so evasive?"

"Hey, all I've got to say is that you're gonna owe me big for this."

0o0

I'm trying to figure out where all this drama in the chapter came from.

Anyway… Tenten gets character development! Probably more than she does in canon! Also, SasoSasu. They'd be a heck of a pair, wouldn't they? Heh heh. But it's all in Sasori's head. I don't think it'd work out very well. The weirdest pairings keep cropping up in this fic. Lastly, the fact that whole scene with Gaara, Killerbee, and his dad has probably happened somewhere in real life makes me want to cry a little. Why are we so paranoid about all the wrong things?

Until next time…

~YamiTenshi~