A Virgin Kiss

Chapter 19: The Banquet

There wasn’t even time to go back to the hotel before the official banquet—Tsunade had declared that ceremonial garb was unnecessary and that wearing their normal clothing was to be seen as a sign that as leaders they were both hardworking and more focused on the job than the perks associated with their positions. And focused on the job of Kazekage was what Gaara had been all day. From the minute the liaisons had been decided, there had been an enormous number of formalities needed. Gaara had found himself wishing for some natural crises or even a military skirmish to allow everyone to forgo all of the tedious traditions that seemed to be necessary.

Fortunately, Tsunade was as bored with unneeded formalities as Gaara, and she was able to move the traditional banquet up to tonight and to reduce the number of ceremonial visits with village elders, clan heads, and other diplomats to a minimum. Evidently when Rock and Leaf had exchanged liaisons during the Third’s time, the celebrations had taken three whole days. An afternoon and an evening were shockingly brief in comparison.

The whole idea about touring the academy had also haunted Gaara since that had to be fit into the afternoon as well. Things had been non-stop, and Gaara didn’t know how to feel about the fact that he wouldn’t get to talk to Neji before the banquet to find out how he felt about the position. Obviously someone would have told Neji before the feast. They were going to sit next to each other in front of everyone. The Hokage and Kazekage would sit side by side at the head table with the two liaisons on either side of them, then the village elders, clan heads, and other important dignitaries.

Embarrassingly, Tsunade had healed his hickey without even asking permission in the middle of the actual signing ceremony. He had his hands full with brush and ink, and she had just done it. Of course he could have stopped her with his sand, but to do so at that point would have been an insult. Her healing was, of course, seen by everyone as a kindness, a courtesy. But Gaara had the feeling Neji wouldn’t feel that way. Would the absence of the mark be taken as a sign that he was ashamed of Neji or didn’t want him any more?

It was weird how while the morning had seemed to drag on and on for the Sand nin, once the liaisons had been agreed on, things seemed to fly by. Before Gaara knew it, he and Temari were being escorted to their seats in the large banquet hall by Kotetsu and Izumo. About half way across the room, Gaara’s eyes found Neji’s white ones. He was standing by Tsunade at the head table. He looked perfect—not a spot on him, not a single one of those long, glossy hairs out of place. There wasn’t a hickey in sight, and the Hyuuga’s usual cool, disinterested, superior look was on his face.

If you took a survey of everyone in the banquet room of who was the most desirable male there that night, Kakashi would probably have won hands down. His eternal rival, Gai, would have been crushed to hear that, but he had a few fans as well. But Neji would come in not so far behind Kakashi. Of course it helped that Sasuke wasn’t around any more, and Naruto was out of town. Gemna had his loyal fan club, as did Shikamaru, but few would deny that Neji was a good-looking guy with a gorgeous head of hair.

But to Gaara, Neji was the only one in the room he could see. And when their eyes met, Neji smiled at him. Gaara felt himself start to get a hard-on in the middle of the banquet hall, and he felt too emotional to really care. Fortunately, the Kazekage’s long coat wasn’t very form fitting from the waist down. In fact, the sexual side effect was really just that—a side effect. Gaara was experiencing the heady rush of first love full force—the rest of the room seemed to fade away, he seemed to be floating, and time seemed to move oddly. It was hard to do anything but feel, to just wallow in a sea of anticipation, pride, knowledge, excitement, and pure hormonal instinct.

Talking, eating, drinking, toasting, bowing—that happened, but it was sort of distant, unreal. The whole dinner was one intense moment after another of being near Neji. So close, but not touching. Gaara wouldn’t let himself touch at all—because his mind was constantly full of tempting ideas. He wanted to put his hand into Neji’s lap and stroke his cock. He wanted to get under the table and suck Neji off right here, right now. He thought about if it would be ok if they both needed to go to the bathroom at the same time—could they fuck in the men’s room and not get caught?

Of course not, but why couldn’t they just sit here and hold hands? Or just stare into each other’s eyes? Or watch each other’s mouths and remember how that other mouth tasted and felt? Gaara wouldn’t let himself do any of that because if he did, it might cause Leaf to seriously reconsider letting Neji go to Sand. It wouldn’t look good to imply that Neji was in for some serious sexual harassment from the Kazekage—but oh, he was. Gaara drank toasts, smiled, and nodded at Tsunade’s speech, all the while thinking about fucking Neji on his desk, in his bed, on his floor, in his shower . . . and thought about Neji fucking him in all those places too . . . and then he just got lost listening to Neji’s voice.

Gaara’s delight in Neji’s voice wasn’t because Neji was saying anything interesting or special—he was just chatting with Gai, TenTen, Lee, Hinata, and all the others who were drifting up to congratulate him and wish him well. But it was the sound, that unique sound that was Neji’s voice, the one voice that had told him he was loved, the one voice that made him willing to hurt his own body—his body that had hardly known a moment’s pain in its life being so protected by his sand.

Gaara had never paid any attention to his nipples before Neji. They weren’t like a woman’s—they were hardly the most arousing place on his body—he’d much prefer a touch on his cock, his balls, his anus, his butt, his lips. But after that night with Neji where the Hyuuga had ordered him to pinch himself, to make himself hurt, Gaara was strangely conscious of that once ignored part of his body. It seemed that all day today he could feel when the blood flowed into his nipples and the nerves there were awakened. And sitting here listening to Neji, Gaara was aware that his nipples were full of blood and too many sensitive nerves and the damn net shirt he had on was scraping and almost itchy against them. They tingled and distracted him. Of course there was another part of his body tingling and distracted as well, just a bit further down his body.

Gaara thought about touching himself under the table. He thought about watching Neji touch himself under the table. He thought about chaining Neji under his desk in Suna and having him suck his cock all day. Gaara gulped down more water and tried to focus on what Tsunade was saying to the village elder in front of them. Fortunately, Temari seemed particularly alert tonight and was jumping in answering some questions that were asked of her brother.

It was just before the dessert was served when Gaara started to worry about TenTen. She was the only person who had come up three separate times to talk to Neji. This third time she really wasn’t hinting that she was going to miss Neji anymore, she was basically waxing eloquently about it. Then she added that she had a special good-bye present for him at her apartment and suggested that maybe he would like to come over and open it after the banquet over a bottle of sake. When Neji didn’t immediately say no, Gaara tried to stay calm and not look like he was a madly possessive and jealous lover.

But under the table, sand was swirling out of his gourd and wrapping around Neji’s ankles and twisting up his legs. It wasn’t really a good idea with so many ninjas around. Tsunade pointedly asked Gaara if he was fine or if he needed anything else. When the Kazekage didn’t even bother to acknowledge the Fifth’s question, Temari tried to help, saying, “Hey, Little Brother, I think you need some more tea there—you’re starting to zone out from too much good food. Tsunade-sama, it’s so amazing how you could put together such a delicious and magnificent feast in so little time. Some day you must honor us with a visit in Suna. Little Brother, do you think we can pull together a feast like this for the honored Fifth?”

Gaara shut his eyes and forced his sand back in the gourd. His chest was hurting, and his right hand unconsciously started rubbing his left side, trying to lessen the pain. Tsunade seized his left wrist and checked Gaara’s pulse frowning. Still Neji hadn’t responded to TenTen—he must really want to go, thought Gaara. After all he had always trained with TenTen, gone on missions with TenTen, spent hours and hours with her, gotten to know everything about her, watched every change in her developing body . . .

“Red, you feeling ok there?” said that voice, the one voice that Gaara was focused on, and then a cup of tea was being held to his lips and that strong arm that smelled of Neji was around Gaara’s shoulders. And Gaara opened up his eyes to see Neji’s big white eyes full of love and concern as if he was the only one in the room. The little sound that just came up from Gaara’s heart and out of his mouth told Neji of all Gaara’s fears, needs, desires, and jealous worry. And that vulnerable, fragile look was in his face again. Neji sighed and looked up to the ceiling for a moment.

It was hard to remember that the Kazekage was pathetically ill-equipped to deal with emotions when he was so clearly powerful, talented, and experienced in fighting and leading a village in both war and peace—however tentative that peace was. But Neji looked at Gaara and remembered that sad face from last night, remembered how Gaara had never had a present, never had a kiss, never had love before—and it was so hard not to just kiss away all Gaara’s worries and doubts. Tsunade, holding Gaara’s wrist, decided to step in before either of the pair beside her forgot they were at the head table of a banquet.

“Neji, Gaara seems to have taken a little ill. Could you please escort him back to his hotel room now and work out all those final arrangements we talked about, so he can get a bit of rest and recovery time before you two depart?” Tsunade’s question was clearly an order, and she added, “Just go, you two, I’ll say your good-byes and explain it all to everyone. Please take care of your health, Kazekage. I hope when we meet tomorrow you’ll be feeling a bit better.”

And then Gaara and Neji were gone, leaving that puff of smoke behind that meant a jounin had gone somewhere in a hurry. Neji hadn’t said a thing to TenTen before going, and the kunoichi was biting her lip and trying to not to look like a woman about to cry. “TenTen, I really need to talk to Gai about some changes to your team. Would you be so kind as to ask him to step over here for a few minutes when he’s done his dessert?” asked Tsunade.

TenTen nodded, grateful for a reason to leave the head table and get away from the pitying eyes of the three or four people sitting close enough to Neji to understand her pain.

“Thank-you, Tsunade-sama,” whispered Temari after TenTen had departed, leaning in close to the Hokage. “Neji will be safe, I promise you. Kankurou will make sure of it.”

Tsunade smiled rather grimly at Temari and whispered back, “I’m more worried about your brother than Neji. And I want you to know I’ll help you get back to Suna as fast as possible if there is any family crises, any, ah, heartbreaking loss in your village.” And thinking about how Gaara might react if Neji broke his heart, both Tsunade and Temari had a bit of trouble smiling for the rest of the dinner.

The cooking and serving staff, noticing this, spent the rest of the night fretting, worried that somehow something had ruined what was supposed to be the crowning culinary masterpiece for two most important people at the feast. But the overwhelmingly positive reception to the sweet concoction from everyone else made them all just decide it was “political.” A few of the less charitable mumbled some comments about “that time of month.” But the master chief-- although outwardly calm--secretly resolved to add an extra five hours working on his pastries at home during his personal leisure time for the next few weeks, just to reassure himself he was still the best. A little extra practice could only help after all.