Baby Baby Baby

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews!I eorked extra hard to get this chapter out because of them! Sneakyfox, Starfig, Jade Rose, and Word Slave...you guys rock! This chapter is dedicated to you and everyone who pushed the little button at the end of the chapter!

(Jade Rose- I just figured that since Naruto is usually such a nice, outgoing guy, that him getting truly angry would make a lot of people nervous considering how powerful he is, etc. Heh, and Sand nin are obviously traumitized...)

On to the story!
****************************

*Chapter Three*

One of the few pleasures in Gaara’s life (besides ice cream and bloodshed) was the fine art of getting Naruto shitfaced. It took a lot of time and a lot of alcohol but the outcome was generally worth the extreme effort. It only helped that Naruto thought he was immune to affects of alcohol because of the Kyuubi’s influence. He wasn’t. A few hours after midnight in his new home Gaara found himself very methodically pouring cup after cup of sake to Naruto who obliged him by continuously drinking through what was somewhat of a one-sided conversation.

By all outward appearances Naruto was still entirely sober, still smiling that same sunny smile, his voice in that new, almost infuriatingly polite tone, but Gaara could see the slight flush over his whiskered cheeks and knew it wasn’t from the heat of the room.

That and Naruto was touching Gaara’s thigh under the table.

One touch alone was worth all the years Gaara had been forced to not murder his siblings. It was on Kankuro’s advice that Gaara had originally used this technique on his friend, and if he had killed his brother, well then he probably wouldn’t have Naruto groping him nearly as often. Kankuro had finally made himself useful with that little tidbit of advice. How do you get someone who is totally oblivious to respond to your advances? Alcohol, Kankuro had answered almost immediately, and he had been right. Without liquor Naruto would never presume to get as close as he did while under the influence.

Puberty had hit Gaara like a large, blunt object to the midsection. After Shukaku had been ripped out of him Gaara had been left to deal with the new sensation of being entirely human while entirely alone. At first he was perplexed by his own symptoms; high heart rate, heavier breathing, a curious, but not unpleasant sensation below the belt line, and every other part of him seemed to be sensitized to almost an insane degree. After a while he became more concerned as to the timing of these symptoms.

His first thought had been; Has Naruto learned a new jutsu? Every time Gaara sparred with him, stood a little too close, or even breathed in the man’s scent a wave of euphoria would muddle his mind to the point where he’d lost a spar for the first time in his life. Naruto had seemed nearly as surprised as he was, looking down at Gaara with those enormous, jewel-bright eyes while they both panted in an awkward tangle.

Very plainly the Kazekage had been defeated by hormones and the inexplicable urge to pull the sweaty blonde closer despite the kunai being held to his neck. Apparently losing fights to Naruto was bound to lead to massive life-altering revelations no matter what the scenario, because it was at that moment that Gaara decided to be smart and embrace the emotion that made him want to lick away the small line of blood trailing from the blonde’s lips.

“You okay?” Naruto had asked, pulling his kunai away, “You’re looking a little funny, Gaara.”

Then he shifted his hips and Gaara’s very logical response turned into a rather desperate sounding groan. Naruto had nearly rushed him off to the hospital but Temari, thankfully not already dead from the sand coffin technique, had managed to pry Gaara from Naruto’s panicked grip and secret him away until the blonde calmed down.

And while they were hiding Temari and Gaara had a Talk.

Gaara nearly turned his protective layer of sand into a fine glass from the heat of his cheeks alone.

“-and that’s how babies are made.” Temari had finished, her ears bright red, “So just thank Kami-sama Naruto-kun’s not a girl. If you need to know anything else ask Kankuro. My monthly allotment of mental trauma has just been fulfilled.”

Gaara remembered wishing he could still blame the whole situation on a jutsu…a jutsu Gaara could get Naruto to teach him again and again and again and-

“You’re looking a little flushed, Gaara,” Naruto brought him back to the present with a small pat and a worried glance, “You aren’t getting sick, are you?”

“I feel completely normal.” Gaara murmured, telling the sad truth. Naruto’s eyebrows furrowed in a familiar look of worry before it melted into a small, soft smile.

“It must feel weird moving to a whole different village.” Naruto sighed deeply and squeezed just above Gaara’s knee. “I can’t even imagine moving to Sand.”

That one squeeze seemed to send an electric jolt all the way up to his brain where his very coherent reply became an infuriating, “Hn.”

Then Naruto pulled his hand away and his look became deadly serious, his eyes flickering as he stared Gaara down.

“Tell me you didn’t give up being the Kazekage just because-” Naruto’s voice faltered and he looked down at the small table between them, “Actually-”

Naruto trailed off again and Gaara started to worry. The last thing Naruto was ever afraid of was speaking his mind, but here he was, his bottom lip between his teeth as he acted like some guilty school boy.

“Naruto-” Gaara whispered, but he was cut off by the blonde’s shaking head.

“Nevermind. I don’t want to know.” Naruto finally murmured, staring resolutely down at his hands. “It’s stupid to ask questions when you don’t want to hear the answers, right Gaara?”

“It depends on the question, I think.” Gaara murmured in return.

And there was that smile, full and bright and mournful, as if Naruto already knew the answer and it pained him so deeply that sorrow would leave him devastated. Gaara hated that smile nearly as much as he adored Naruto, kind Naruto with his wonderful intentions and natural obliviousness. If he knew how beautiful he looked like that with his blue eyes clouded, looking close to tears, if he knew how soft and inviting it made him seem, how vulnerable, and how it sent Gaara into stunning agony, then surely Naruto would never smile again.

In lieu of pulling the blonde close Gaara put a hand over Naruto’s and told him, silently, that he was there, and he cared. At first Naruto looked uneasy at the touch, at the sight of pale and bronzed skin mixed together, but then he sighed once, deeply, and seemed to calm. It wasn’t only drink that made Naruto intoxicated, every glance of flesh and flesh seemed rush some thrill through his body, no matter how incidental or small, and Gaara figured that it was perfectly normal for a man with a past such as Naruto that even a Hokage would fear the yearning for more of that feeling, that desperate shivering appeal.

It didn’t seem odd to him that out of the two of them Gaara had learned to accept the nuances of touch far before Naruto. He hadn’t ever been forced to analyze every hug or handshake as the villagers were either clearly terrified or not, but Naruto…he had opened himself up for betrayal time and time again by putting his trust in the wrong man again and again until he was simply broken for anyone else, and nearly beyond repair.
Gaara was certain he could put those shattered pieces back together again given enough opportunity and time and now he had both.

“Trust me to know what I’m doing,” Gaara continued, barely able to stare into those blue eyes. They inspired a want he couldn’t indulge, not so soon. “I think that is the least you owe me…as a friend. To leave Suna was a decision I did not take lightly, Naruto.”

Naruto’s face fell, but then twisted quickly into a familiar, mischievous grin, “So you’re not just here for the ice cream, eh?”

Gaara allowed a smile of his own.

“Not just for the ice cream.” He really couldn’t help a wistful sigh at the thought of the sweet confection, “Though my decision was much easier to make knowing there would be something sweet waiting for me here.”

Naruto, sweet Naruto, just put his forehead down on the table and smiled.

****

The house was returned to its pre-feast state by the morning. Genin hurried in noiselessly and cleaned what the dinner staff had not, before rushing back out again in a full run down the street with their sandals snapping staccato in the early dawn.
Subaku no Gaara’s reputation had clearly preceded him.

When they were gone Gaara was finally safe to start his day; indulging in the luxury of a long bath, making tea, and finally getting dressed in the unusually tight clothing of a Sato country native. Of all the things left behind in Sand Gaara missed his wardrobe the most.

And, very frankly, without his gourd he felt absolutely naked. Even walking down the street was excruciating without the familiar weight on his back. He’d taken to wearing his sand less in Suna, but had promised himself to giving it up entirely while residing in Konohagakure. The decision may have been a hasty one, but Gaara found he wasn’t stared at nearly as often while without the thing. Just like the shinobi world knew the Hokage could be found wearing orange, it was also known that Gaara never traveled without his sand.

Now Gaara was just some shinobi with a weird tattoo; not like there weren’t already thousands of those around.

It was with this in mind, feeling slightly irked, that Gaara went to go wake Hikaru. He found the boy still in the dining room, slumped over and snoring softly in full uniform. Gaara kicked him in the shin.

“Wake up.”

Gaara was not known for his bedside manner. Hikaru snored on obliviously, drool dripping down his chin. He kicked the boy again, and again he did not wake. Briefly considering just leaving him there, Gaara finally gave into his softer side and murmured, “Oh look, there goes Hokage-sama.”

“What?!” Hikaru woke so suddenly that he smacked his forehead into the wall. “Where!”

Gaara just crossed his arms and stood there, waiting for Hikaru to come back to the land of the living. Eventually the redheaded boy did just that, wiping his chin clean before pouting up at Gaara with enormous, watering eyes. While the same look made Naruto more appealing Hikaru only managed to look like frightened small game.

“That was cruel, Kaze…Gaara-sama.” Hikaru still continued to look around, as if Naruto would suddenly pop up from behind the furniture, “Just cruel.”

Clearly the child had never seen the Sand Coffin Technique in action.

Gaara briefly considered giving him a personal demonstration.

“You look really funny when your eye twitches like that.” Hikaru laughed, apparently over his grief.

“Training. Five minutes. Get ready.”

Then he left the house, going far far away from the resulting chaos of his statement as Hikaru did as he was told. Out on the porch he was mildly surprised to see one of Naruto’s personal guards still standing at the gate. If there was one out in the open then there were surely at least three more hidden throughout the neighborhood, or even in the shadows of his new home. Gaara walked over to see that it was the same guard from the party. Elk, or deer, or something like that. He didn’t remember what the official name of the masked man was, but he knew what Naruto called him in private.

“Good morning, Jackalope.”

The force of the ANBU’s glare was nearly tangible.

“Not you too,” The man muttered.”You know very well that’s not my call sign.”

Gaara had plenty of practice keeping his expression blank, “Isn’t that what Hokage-sama calls you?”

The ANBU snorted and made a show of scanning the horizon.

“Our esteemed Rokudaime has an odd sense of humor.”

Gaara didn’t mind smiling at that, because they both knew Naruto, and that his declaration was a drastic understatement. They were talking about the man who defeated the Tsuchikage with Harem no Jutsu in the middle of a heated spar. The blood spray had been epic and oddly enough it had been Naruto who never lived it down, not Iwa’s Godaime who had passed out on the field.

“Hey Gaara-sama,” the ANBU murmured softly, “I’ve always wanted to ask…the chuunin exams; you didn’t pass me just because of nii-san, did you?”

Gaara thought back, far back, to his first Chuunin exam and remembered the boy who had been almost as loud as Naruto, the signature Sarutobi scarf flipping behind him in the wind. He had recognized Konohamaru first as the boy Kankuro had tormented so long ago, and then as the child Naruto had been so vehement in defending.

“I promoted you because you managed to summon the ape king and then lasted for nearly an hour against a genin personally tutored by my brother.”

“Yeah, but when Enma came out he smacked me so hard my teeth rattled.” Konohamaru shuddered.

It took a great deal of effort on Gaara’s part not to grin. That single event had possibly been the funniest thing he had ever seen. This poor little genin manages to summon the Ape Boss in the middle of the chuunin exams only to get a lecture from said boss in lieu of backup, letting the entire stadium know that the grandson of the famed third Hokage had been spending a little too much time with a certain degenerate pot-smoking summons. Gaara had been able to see Konohamaru’s blush from all the way up in his private box.

“It was an impressive show of chakra control,” Gaara murmured, taking in the soft hues of Konoha’s sunrise, “and you made my brother’s apprentice cry. I thought you deserved chuunin rank at the very least.”

Konohamaru chuckled deviously, “That big baby. You’d think he’d never seen a bonfire before.”

“Those puppets are difficult to make.” Gaara didn’t repress his smirk. Kankuro had been livid; not that Konohamaru had succeeded, but that his genin had actually managed to fuck up so badly that his primary weapon actually burst into flames. Temari had almost fallen off the balcony she was laughing so hard.

The whole match had been a comedy act more than a violent battle, but towards the end the two had fought viciously, cleverly, and though Konohamaru clearly lost he was smart enough to announce that fact before the poison dart he caught in the thigh could seep any further into his veins. His opponent however had immediately collapsed and nearly died in the infirmary only minutes later.

“You made chuunin because you deserved it. Naruto would have been furious otherwise.”

The end of their conversation was exclaimed by a sudden yelp, followed by a loud crash before Hikaru, red-faced and panting, ran out the door. He looked entirely disheveled; his hitae-ate was upside-down, his ninja-to was positioned over his right shoulder, and the bandages around his ankles looked about one good kick from falling off entirely. Gaara narrowed his eyes and the boy winced.

“Maybe you should go back inside and try again.” Gaara murmured, leaking killing intent, “With a mirror this time.”

“H-h,” Hikaru’s breath shortened and his eyes rolled dangerously, but the boy managed to pull himself together enough to stagger towards the shoji door.

“Ne, Gaara-sama, that kid seems a little-“ Konohamaru made a swirling motion next to his head. It was an interesting sight considering he was still clothed in full ANBU regalia.

“Hm,” Gaara looked down at the ground, listening to the dreaded thump of Hikaru once again passing out, but it never came. At first the affliction had disgusted Gaara, the profound weakness and vulnerability that the malady made in Hikaru was worse than a lost arm, or gouged eye. But then he had seen Hikaru fight during the chuunin exams, and the fierceness there, the determination, had somehow set his illness aside just long enough for the boy to completely decimate the competition. It had been a humbling sight to see a thin, wide-eyed, battered genin take down a six foot, muscled, mist-nin on his home territory.

Hikaru, despite his faults, had enormous potential. Fortunately the council and his peers couldn’t see the spark in him, hadn’t recognized the bloodline that had made even Gaara’s eyes widen in shock, and so he had managed to tow the boy along in his little quest with the hope that perhaps Konoha would work its magic one more time on an insecure child with a hidden power.

It helped that Hikaru was nearly a leaf-nin anyways, what with his unfailing devotion and love for the Rokudaime Hokage. Gaara couldn’t fault him for the emotion, but it was odd to see what he sometimes felt himself be so blatantly and unselfconsciously displayed for the entire world to see. Hikaru worshiped Naruto for his strength, his ability to overcome hatred and fear, but mostly he adored the man for never giving up, and for triumphing when everyone said he would fail.

“You should have noticed by now, Elk-san that those with the most potential often have their quirks.”

Normally Gaara would stay close-lipped about such subjects, but they were both in Konoha to stay. Through training and daily interaction the Leaf shinobi were bound to learn their little secrets anyways. It would only be detrimental to hide what would certainly be known in a matter of months, if not weeks.

Hikaru scrambled back out of the house at a much slower pace, still breathing heavily as he tightened his forehead protector and walked to the gate. His sword was sheathed correctly, the bandages tightened enough to be useful, and he was smiling widely despite the pale pallor of his face. Gaara looked at the red-haired boy, his big blue eyes, that white smile, and saw someone who he could have been.

“Follow me.” He said shortly, gesturing to the chuunin before walking away.

And Hikaru followed, as he always did, and never once looked back.

****

Rock Lee was known as a caring, kind man, but it was entirely obvious to the audience that he was taking great pleasure out of beating Gaara senseless. Gaara couldn’t really blame Lee considering their rather bloody past, but that didn’t stop him from hurting like hell and gave the former Kage very little comfort. As Lee’s foot once more made contact with his face Gaara found himself wishing for his sand almost desperately, pathetically, because frankly even as a high-ranking shinobi he still knew very little about pain.

Still, he managed a clumsy block as Lee’s leg came down again, and he refused to fall even when the resulting contact ended in one horrifying snap. Gaara managed to cut off a scream, but his agonized groan was enough for Sakura to finally cut in with a curt, “That’s quite enough, Lee. Please sit, Gaara-sama.”

Gaara simply collapsed.

“Your taijutsu is horrible.” Lee commented, grinning. “Were you even trained during the academy?”

Gaara responded with a low moan as Sakura snapped his bones back into pace and passed over breaks and fractures with a healing hand. At that moment of blessed relief he was so, so happy he hadn’t actually succeeded in killing her.

“Thank you.” He gasped, slumping fully to the ground as she checked his numerous other injuries.

Sakura smiled warmly and winked, “All you have to do is ask.”

“Can I ask you to check on Hikaru?”

About five seconds into the match, when Gaara had received his first real blow, Hikaru had passed out with a weak gurgle and stayed down for the remainder of the fight. He was still where Gaara had left him, slumped over and cradled in the roots of a large tree. Sakura looked over her shoulder before turning back with a smile.

“Is that the boy from last night?”

“Hn.” Gaara closed his eyes and breathed deeply as the worst of the pain finally went away.

“Hn.” Sakura repeated back mockingly, “Does someone get you guys together and teach you to grunt or does it just come naturally?”

When Gaara didn’t answer she just sighed, “I think it’s genetic. I should do a paper. Make a cure. Frustrated women everywhere would worship me as a medical god.”

“Hn-” Gaara started, but it ended out sounding more like “Hnoof,” when Sakura planted her fist into his abdomen. He probably deserved it.

“What was that?” She asked sweetly, fist raised over his head.

“Please stop making me hurt, Sakura-san.” Gaara asked with as much dignity as possible. There was no shame in being beat up by a girl when said girl could turn you into putty.
Sakura’s resulting smile seemed to sparkle a bit more than necessary, and he wondered idly if letting her and Lee get married was really the wisest idea for Naruto to make. If rumors were true there might be loud pink-haired, furry-browed, nearly schizophrenic training maniacs running around the village in a matter of years.

“I’ll go check on Hikaru then.” She clapped her hands together with a little laugh. “Lee, take it easy on Gaara-sama, would you?”

“Yes, my love!” Lee looked just like a puppy Gaara had once killed, all bright-eyed and simpering. “My only, my darling!”

“Yeah, yeah. You too.” Sakura waved at Lee absently as she checked Hikaru’s pulse. The boy began to stir and murmur as Sakura asked questions in a low, soothing voice. Gaara knew what she would find, but it would be good for the Hikaru to hear it from a third party. Later on in life having an excess of Iron in his blood would serve Hikaru well, but right now…there was another thump and Sakura rolled her eyes in exasperation as she zipped her top all the way up to her neck.

“That’s an interesting…companion you have there.” Lee said, one enormous eyebrow raised. “Who is he?”

Gaara sat up and leaned on his knees, still catching his breath and feeling absolutely murderous.

“His name is Hikaru, and he’s not my companion.” Gaara scowled, “He’s my personal guard.”

Lee gave Gaara a look that as a self proclaimed ‘green beast’ who ran around in spandex and a bowl cut, he shouldn’t really be aloud to give.

“Well,” Gaara watched with some satisfaction as Lee grasped for something positive to say. Lee scratched his head, “He seems like a…nice boy?”

“Disgustingly nice.” Gaara agreed, making a face. Hikaru had been positively crushed when the man who had offered him such delicious candy had actually been a key player in the capturing and selling young boys to much older men. Shocked and dismayed, even.

“Is his taijutsu as bad as yours?”

“Not quite.” Over near Hikaru’s body Sakura frowned. Her outstretched hands twitched as she took a closer look at the boy’s skin, pinching it slightly before comparing the color to her own. Next to Sakura’s healthy pink Hikaru looked decidedly grey. When Hikaru finally came to, blushing furiously, she began asking a series of questions in a quiet, no nonsense tone that quickly calmed him down.

“You know what’s wrong with him.” Lee said quietly, his head tilted to the side, “Don’t you?”

Gaara just nodded, sighing when Sakura frowned grimly and helped the boy stand to his feet.

“I’m taking Hikaru out for some tests.” Sakura called out. “No more sparring until I get back.”

“That,” Gaara sighed quietly, “Is fine with me.”

Lee waved to his wife’s back with a besotted look on his face, calling out endearments and promises in the most garish language Gaara had ever heard. Right as he was being seriously tempted to cover his ears Sakura’s pink hair disappeared around the corner and the cacophony ceased. Instead Lee turned to Gaara and cracked his knuckles with an enormous grin.

“And now,” He said, teeth pinging in the light, “It’s time for a little hard work.”

****

They were on their tenth circle of Konoha when a third party joined Gaara’s little torture session in a lazy jog. He slowed down the pace considerably, but Gaara found he didn’t have the breath to complain, nor the will.

“So, Gaara-sama,” Shikamaru wasn’t breathing very hard but he was sweating bullets and pulling at the neck of his vest. “How are you?”

Gaara gave him the glare that usually sent Suna-nin and family members fleeing into the desert. Shikamaru paled and Lee averted his eyes, clearing his throat and running a little ways ahead. Sakura had taken him aside during the welcoming dinner and informed him of Shikamaru’s extremely bad decision making. For someone who was supposed to be a genius the man was very clearly an exceptional sort of dumbfuck.

“Oh.” Shikamaru cleared his throat. “Are you enjoying Konoha?”

“Yes,” Gaara finally spat out, “I find the diplomatic immunity refreshing.”

Shikamaru choked and nearly tripped, but Gaara did the polite thing and yanked him back up by his stupid, spiky ponytail. Gaara was a natural multi-tasker and a very helpful person in general.

“Remember what I said when I found out you were fucking my sister?” Gaara asked, smiling pleasantly at a fellow jogger. The man blanched and ran into a tree. Shikamaru made a low, pained sound and Gaara put on a little more speed.

“That you reserved the right to kill me anytime you wanted since I was practically family?” Shikamaru laughed a little wildly, “But, uh, Gaara-sama-”

“Shut up-”Gaara snapped, “-or I’ll kill you.”

The ground beneath them was slipping a little as the earth beneath Gaara’s feet started to break down into tiny granules. If Shikamaru kept blathering Gaara might accidentally turn the foundation beneath Konoha’s walls into sand, and that wouldn’t be a good thing considering the height and weight of said walls. Gaara took a deep, calming breath and let go of Shikamaru’s hair.

“I’m really, really sorry.” Shikamaru burst out after a few tense moments, “-and Naruto won’t let me in the office…in the building! And he has an appointment with the fire daimyo in two weeks and he probably hadn’t even looked in his planner and-”

“Go away.” Gaara finally snapped, looking into Shikamaru’s downcast, miserable face. The man really did look genuinely regretful, at least more than he was afraid of Gaara which was saying something.

“Gaara-sama …” They finally stopped running as Shikamaru grabbed him by the shoulders, his head bowed, “Please, please help me make this right. He’ll listen to you. Please.”

“And what should I tell Naruto?” Gaara snapped and felt the earth tremble in the edges of his consciousness. “How do I explain that his friend and his closest advisor betrayed him?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Shikamaru was very close to begging, “I wasn’t thinking-”

“That’s right, and-”

There were so many things that Gaara wanted to say, but so many more that he wanted to do to Shikamaru that there weren’t even words for his rage. Instead the sand began to coil around his feet, whipping and snapping as the echo of an old haunt cried out for blood. Was it really wrong to want justice for someone he-

Well, when it came down to it Gaara knew Naruto would be terribly upset if Gaara eviscerated one of Konoha’s finest ninja, no matter how much of an idiot he might be.

“-it’s a wonder Temari hasn’t castrated you.” Gaara finally finished, sending the sand back to earth. “I will speak to Naruto.”

“Thank you.” Shikamaru bowed, sighing deeply. “Thank you.”

Gaara looked down at him and felt disdain more than pity, and he let the man know with a dark wave of killing intent as he smirked, “Don’t thank me quite yet.”