A Virgin Kiss

Chapter 25: The Road

Gaara kept his promise to kiss Neji anytime he asked as they moved towards the River Country that separated the lands of Wind and Fire. By tonight they’d be close to the border, and the next day they would be in the River Country. The last day of the three-day journey would take them to dry, windy Suna. They had left the main roads that most travelers took, using the paths through the forests that ninjas preferred to save time. They would hook back up with the road in River Country for a while before heading into the desert.

Neji’s kisses weren’t slowing them down—much. This morning over breakfast Neji had mentioned that Tsunade might need him back next month for the chuunin exams, but that most likely the use of liaisons would be resumed after the exams. She also said that Naruto could be back in Konoha by then. The main topic of conversation today was about various chuunin exams, who might be entered in the upcoming one, and, of course, Naruto. But the more they talked about Naruto, the longer the pauses in the conversation. By sunset, they weren’t talking, and Neji hadn’t asked for a kiss since two o’clock.

Neji didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, so he vowed he wouldn’t be the one to bring up the topic of stopping to eat and where they should set up camp. He mentally cursed Sasuke as the cause of the silence between Gaara and himself. Gaara had advanced his theory about Naruto and Sasuke being in love again. Neji liked Naruto and had respected Sasuke—enough to put his life on the line for him in the mission to rescue him. But the idea of Naruto and Sasuke irritated the hell out of him. Naruto was special—Naruto had changed his life, Gaara’s life, and that Uchiha bastard didn’t seem to appreciate him. He’d never even acknowledged Neji’s existence either. Well, fuck, Neji had never acknowledged him—maybe because Sasuke was one of the few other ninjas besides Gaara that the Leaf nin had fantasized about. It was just because of his looks—he was a looker—but personality-wise he was—he was too much like himself: proud, talented, possessing dark hair, good looks, and an enviable blood limit inheritance. Had Neji just fantasized more about Gaara because Gaara was safer than the Uchiha, out of reach? But now Sasuke was out of reach—hell, he was lost, destined for death. And Naruto was obsessed with him—and Gaara seemed pretty obsessed with Naruto.

Frowning, the Hyuuga prodigy though about Naruto and Gaara—and their bond, their friendship. Yes, he had Gaara’s first kiss—but Naruto, Naruto was Gaara’s first friend. Did Gaara long for Naruto? Did he imagine blue eyes and yellow hair above him when Neji made love to him? And so what if he did? If anybody deserved happiness, it was Gaara. His life made the jounin’s seem like that of a pampered prince. He had told Gaara he would never let him go, but if Gaara wanted to go, how could he hold him back? And he was going to be away from the Kazekage just when Naruto came back. Of course Naruto would be visiting Gaara: Naruto, who would lay on the foot of Gaara’s bed when they would talk and drink together; Naruto, the one that Gaara always preferred to hang out with when in Konoha.

Gaara kept saying that sex and love weren’t the same thing. He said he loved Neji. But was that just the rush of his first kiss confusing him? A first kiss was special. Neji’s first kiss had been with Genma—Genma who was always sucking on senbons; Genma who was bisexual like Gaara; Genma who had sleep with so many people of both sexes that he’d lost count; Genma whom Neji had fallen in love with after just one kiss; Genma who had been kissing Kiba when Neji showed up ten minutes late for a little “training” just two weeks into Neji’s first love affair. Well, a few kisses, gropes, and a blow job or two weren’t much of an affair—but Neji had ached for a while after that. But he had gotten over it. That Genma had been sixteen years older than him had helped; they hadn’t shared the same school years, exams, or friends.

Well at least Gaara and he were similar in age and shared some mutual friends, especially Naruto. But still, was this thing with Gaara another one of those short, intense loves that seemed to blow up and crash within weeks of starting? Was this just Neji getting overly excited over losing his virginity with the sexy ninja he had wanted to drool over—but of course, the prodigy of the Hyuugas didn’t drool over anyone. And Gaara—Gaara, the Kazekage, was way above Neji in power and skill. Looking at the silent redhead walking beside him in the darkening night, it seemed unreal, impossible that this warrior had let him take him—oh god and all those things he’d said to Gaara—what the hell was he doing? And then the memories of Gaara just welled up in Neji’s mind—he could see Gaara beneath him, hear those cries, taste his sweat and cum in his mouth, feel that skin and that soft heat . . .

“Gaara,” whispered Neji, lost in the memory.

“Neji?” asked Gaara.

Hearing his name from Gaara, Neji looked over at him, and their eyes met. And Neji felt himself forgetting all the doubts that had made the last few hours' walk so quiet.

“Hungry?” asked Gaara.

“Starved, Red,” said Neji reaching out for his lover. “I haven’t tasted you for hours.”

“I’m right here, and all you have to do is ask.”

“But I don’t want to ask,” said Neji, suddenly understanding that he was afraid that Gaara was another Genma, that he would leave for Naruto. He was afraid too that he, Neji, was like Sasuke—arrogant, assuming he was the one in charge, that he knew better than anyone what to do, putting his needs, his desires first. “I want you to take what you want tonight—I—I—well, I’ve been a bit assertive, and I want to be sure you really want to, ah, dammit! I’m starting to sound like Hinata!”

Gaara started at Neji and tried to figure out what he was trying to say so incoherently. The silence between them this afternoon had been the first time things had felt awkward, strained. Gaara had been worrying that maybe Neji didn’t like spending a lot of time with him—that he liked the sex, but he didn’t like being friends. Talking about Naruto had set Gaara thinking about how different Neji and Naruto were. But Neji’s words—`I want to be sure you really want to’ made Gaara say, “Neji, I will tell you if I don’t like what you do to me. If I need you to stop, I’ll stop you. Is that what you need to hear?”

“I know that, but I—I, well, was thinking that you might be ok with something, but really prefer something else. What do you fantasize about—well, beside me doing you doggie style that is?”

“That just sort of popped into my head—would you really call that a fantasy?” asked Gaara, a bit defensively.

“Hmmm—ok, so you want stop and eat here or scout ahead for a place to set up camp? I think maybe we should have our blankets out for the rest of this conversation.”

“There’s a good place to camp about thirty-five minutes ahead and an ok place about twenty minutes ahead,” said Gaara.

“Which one is more secure?”

“The far one.”

“Well, I think the Kazekage deserves the best—lead on,” said Neji.

“I’m going to take a kiss first, Hyuuga,” said Gaara pulling Neji closer to him, “because you do look starved for me. Really, you look almost pitiful there.”

“Pitiful, what are you talking about, Red?”

“I’m talking about how Hyuuga Neji spent the afternoon worrying about if I liked his lovemaking, so much so that he won’t even take a kiss from me and even offers me anything I want—positively pathetic, White Eyes. If I don’t kiss you, you'll probably start crying.”

Dammit, Gaara was playing him—and it was working! No one insulted him like this—he had been trying to be considerate and all he got was mockery and sneers. Neji jerked Gaara against him and roughly pulled his head back, unzipping his Gaara’s coat as far as it would go with the strap of his gourd across his chest. He twisted Gaara’s head to look at the hickey he’d left on his neck last night. Then his head descended, and he proceeded to give Gaara a matching one on the other side of his neck. He didn’t stop until Gaara’s breath was shortening, his heartbeat had sped up, and he was begin to make those little sounds that weren’t quite yet moans.

Then they kissed as if they were lovers who had been apart for days. Their kisses already had that feel of old lovers—they knew what each other liked, how their mouths best fit together. Gaara’s hand reached under that black drape that Neji wore around his waist like a half-skirt and squeezed Neji’s ass, then cupped his balls, and rubbed his half-hard cock.

Neji’s hands reached for Gaara’s wrists and pulled his hands away—“Hey, we’ve got a bit of a hike here—let’s save this till we can do something about it.”

“No,” said Gaara, feeling suddenly unreasonable, “I want you wanting and feeling that want.” His sand hissed out of the gourd, and Neji found his arms encased and being forced back by the sand, and his legs held immobile. And Gaara’s hand went back to his penis, quickly stimulating him to a full erection. Neji was too proud to struggle or complain, and then he stopped wanting to when Gaara knelt down on the path and began to demonstrate what a year of whoring could teach you about oral sex.

The jounin, trapped in the sand, looked down and watched as Gaara sucked on the tip of his penis and licked down the sides. In the darkening twilight, Gaara’s skin was the most visible thing. And the sight of the dark marks he’d left on either side of the pale white neck only fueled Neji’s cravings more. Gaara was now sucking down a few inches of Neji’s shaft, his head moving back and forth, slowly. If the sand wasn’t holding him back, Neji knew he would be pressing and pushing on that red hair, thrusting back into Gaara’s throat—like Genma had done to him so long ago, Genma who hadn’t loved him but just wanted to get off and didn’t care who he used to do it.

Oh, god, hot tight wetness all around his cock from tip to base—Gaara was deep-throating him, and Neji shuddered as much as the bonds of sand would let him and moaned. Guilt, pleasure, and amazement fought for supremacy in him—he would have forced this on Gaara, but if he could just let himself wait, it would come to him, unasked for, unforced, and yes, so much better. Gaara was moving up and down on him, his mouth tightening and loosening, his tongue and teeth teasing, oh god—his hands were now on Neji’s balls. Goaning, Neji sighed, humbled, willing to let Gaara do with him what he wanted since it felt so good. Words spilled out of his mouth, “Oh god, yes, oh, so good, so fucking good, oh god, Gaara, uhhhhhh, yes, ohhh, Red, ohhhhhh—“ and after that nothing coherent came out of Neji’s mouth although Gaara had no trouble in understanding him.

EEEHHH! The high-pitched squeal of an enraged wild boar was like the harsh ring of a morning alarm clock. The pleasure of only moments ago was gone like a dream. “Byukugan! A boar and three hunters 350 meters southeast—they’re moving this way.”

“If we run, we’ll hit a small lake ahead. The campsite I was talking about is on a small rocky island that has no interest to hunters. Anything else?” asked Gaara, rising up from his knees.

“A tiger hunting 400 meters to the north. Let’s move to that island.”

As they sped along, Neji adjusted his pants and tried to stay focused on making sure they avoided contact with anyone who might gossip about the two ninjas alone and vulnerable to attack. But a bunch of hunters with hardly any chakra between them and one tiger—it was hardly anything to sweat over. His cock agreed, stubbornly insisting on staying aroused. Damn it—thank god, this wasn’t something more serious like a local gang or some River Country ninjas aggressively protecting the borders to their country by a little foray into Fire Country. `Shit, tomorrow,' Neji told himself, `I have to keep my mind off sex, love, and relationships and focus on stealth and observation.' His stomach took this moment to suddenly growl and make it clear that eating also should be done on a regular basis.

Once Neji thought of food, he found it was pretty easy to get his body to forget about having Gaara’s mouth back on him. Crap—the bloody boar had shifted his direction and was now moving more towards the west, towards them and the lake ahead. Too bad killing the boar would alert the hunters to their presence—boar meat would make a damn tasty dinner. Fresh meat you had killed, skinned, and roasted over a campfire was always better than something from the butcher. TenTen and he made an amazing hunting team. He could find something tasty no matter how well it was hidden, and TenTen never missed whether it was spear, kunai, or shuriken. Rock Lee was able to locate the right plants to add flavor to whatever meat Team Gai was about to feast on, but often that wasn’t needed because Gai-sensei usually had some small packs of seasoning on him. He thought that pepper and curry increased one's youthful vigor. No, bland meat was not a problem when camping with Team Gai!

The distinct chakra of the fish in the distant lake switched Neji’s mind onto the idea of fresh fish. Unfortunately fish reminded Neji of scallops, and of Gaara eating scallops at that dinner party. `Oh god, watching Gaara eat was so fucking hot,' he moaning internally. `God but not as hot as watching Gaara feast on my cock—fish, damn it, think about fish, fishing, making a fire, fire, Gaara’s hair is the color of fire—fuck!'

By the time Gaara and Neji had crossed the lake, scaled the rocks, and climbed down into the little hollow at the center of the island, Neji was feeling a bit exhausted from running on an empty stomach. But even with desire, hunger, and sleepiness fighting it out in his body, Neji stayed his usual calm, quiet self, doing what any shinobi would do to set up camp, including setting up some traps around the site for basic security. When the distant chakra of the boar flickered and dissipated with the animal’s death, Neji sighed with relief—they might be able to have a fire tonight. “They’ve got the boar and are stopped,” he called over to Gaara, who was securing the north and west sides of tiny island.

When they met back in the now secured hollow, Neji couldn’t help but grin as he said, “Hunters moving southeast, and the wind's a bit to the north—we can have a fire tonight.”

“Well that leaves us with three things to decide,” said Gaara.

“Who makes the fire, who hunts, and who cooks?” asked Neji.

“I was thinking, one: firemaking or hunting; two: duck or fish; and three: food or sex first? I forgot about cook or clean.”

“Hunt, duck, food, clean, fuck?”

“Deal,” said Gaara with a grin, sending his sand to fetch bit of wood and pine needles for the fire. As the redhead set about clearing a safe spot and arranging his tinder, he felt himself hoping that tonight would kindle the start of a friendship between the two lovers. Love needed more than sex to fuel it, Gaara realized, and he was going to do his best tonight to get that haughty Hyuuga to open up more than just his mouth and body.