A Virgin Kiss

Chapter 8: The Strategy

Gaara lay face down on the bed dazed with the love he was feeling. Neji groaned and pulled out of him. He flopped down beside the Sand nin on the bed, face up. Gaara rolled his head over to look at his lover. Neji’s head turned towards him, and the Leaf nin grinned at Gaara, sighed, and looked up at the ceiling saying, “Holy fucking shit, Gaara, you’ve been doing this for over a year? And doing missions and acting as Kazekage as well? That’s fucking amazing.” And then Neji’s eyes slid shut, and he just lay there with a rather goofy grin on his face, looking a lot more like a normal teenager than a jounin of Konoha.

Gaara’s head didn’t move, and he watched Neji’s breathing get deep and even as he fell asleep. The Hyuuga hadn’t even taken off the damp pants he’d put on when Temari arrived. To Gaara, it seemed like that was a lifetime ago. Neji’s cock, now flaccid, was still out of the crotch of his pants, which clung to his legs. Gaara’s heart was beating fast as he watched the jounin sleeping peacefully next to him. That in itself was a complement. Very few people could sleep in close proximity to him, knowing he would be awake. Staying awake until it was time to dress for breakfast would be easy--Gaara knew he was new at love, but strategy and games were old hat to him, and he would use them to win him Neji. Just exactly what "winning" Neji meant was not quite clear in Gaara's mind, but that could be figured out later. As he watched the man he loved sleep, he thought about everything Neji had said to him.

Neji had basically said that he though Gaara was a seme, a dominant type, who would use restraints and force to take and use a lover. That sort of behavior was how Neji saw himself sexually—he insisted he was a seme, and for a virgin, he had no trouble dominating and taking control of the sex he had with Gaara. Yet he also indicated he had found Gaara desirable when he imagined he was only a seme, implying that seme Gaara was tempting. He cares about rank and status, too, though Gaara. He likes to refer to me as the Kazekage—that I’m powerful turns him on. He also had initiated that game of Gaara-sensei and had been willing to do what Gaara had asked for, had wanted.

He will like it both ways, thought Gaara, pleased, but of course he can’t admit that. He has to be put into a situation where he feels that he’s not losing face, or, at least, he’s getting something for what he’s giving up. He likes humbling me, but only because he knows I can easily kill him or restrain him any time I want. If he finds out how much power he has over me, he may not want me as much, and my value as a sex partner will go down. Or he may find that irresistible—something he can control and use. Which was more likely?

Neji let out a soft snore, and Gaara felt his new love surge in his body. He pulled himself up a bit and rolled on his side, carefully memorizing his lover's appearance. When he knew he had the sight tucked away in his head, Gaara decided Neji’s cock needed to be cleaned off and got up to head to the bathroom—well, hell, he needed a little attention himself in the cleanliness department. As the Kazekage cleaned up for the second time this morning while Neji slept, he plotted.

He and Temari were here to talk about what was being diplomatically masked under assorted phrases like “an exchange of diplomats" and “a system for incorporating and maintaining the long-term alliance of Leaf and Sand.” It was really about exchanging hostages/spies. A Sand ninja for a Leaf ninja. Two elite shinobi that could be taken and held, one against a whole village, if the alliance broke. Two elite shinobi who knew precious secret jutsus that neither village would want the other to know. Two strong enough to maybe not get taken and able to spy. You keep our nin untouched, we keep yours untouched. We explore the trust between our villages. We dance the diplomatic dance.

It was irresponsible, unreasonable, and unscrupulous, and Gaara was definitely going to do it—he was going to demand a Hyuuga be the Leaf representative at that 9 o’clock meeting with Tsunade. He would, of course, not mention Neji. Temari would want Shikamaru, but if it was a Temari for Neji trade, that was win-win. He had to have other options, however—he should start by insisting on Kakashi. There was no way the son of White Fang would be wanting to come to Suna. Frankly memories of all the deaths Kakashi’s father had dealt out in fighting the Sand would put the Copy-nin in a bit of danger. If Kakashi was poisoned, it would be a true disaster. But Tsunade would know this—no point in asking for Kakashi . . . unless it was particularly to attempt to heal over the wounds still unhealed . . .

Gaara’s mind worked over strategies that normally he really didn’t spend too much time thinking about. But he wanted Neji, and he only had a week here in Konoha, and that would not be enough. Himself for Kakashi? Dammit, there was really no way he could leave his village. And Shukaku’s vessel allowed to live in Leaf—not likely. But Neji, Neji had pulled Gaara away from Shukaku. He’d known what to do—how to bring Gaara to the fore. He could read chakra systems with his Byukugan—Gaara had the feeling that he had seen the bleeding of Shukaku’s chakra into his own. He hadn’t fled, he hadn’t panicked, and he taken Gaara’s body and heart.

Neji was feeling very superior right now; Gaara had to make sure he felt a little unsure, a little vulnerable, so he was going to leave the Hyuuga before he had to this morning—on Kazekage business of course. But there was no sneaking out—leaving without saying good-bye was for cowards. Gaara tried to decide what he should be wearing when he woke up Neji. He tried on a skimpy black tank and his long coat before deciding it was too demeaning for someone who looked like love incarnate to worry about his appearance. Yet, even as his mind told him that, he jerked the tank off. He would wear only a pair of black pants, slung low over his hips, just like what Neji had emerged from the bathroom in earlier.

He sat himself on the side of the bed and lowered his head to wake Neji with a kiss. Then Gaara forgot every plan he made and just let himself experience was it was like to kiss someone you loved. But when--a good four minutes later--Neji pulled him roughly down on the bed and rolled him on his back and pinned him, Gaara let his sand loose to capture Neji. For a minute Gaara thought about just letting Neji take him again, but the smug superior look on the Hyuuga’s face enabled the Sand nin to kept those sand bonds tight around his lover.

The look on Neji’s face when Gaara pinned him to the bed with the sand made Gaara’s heart leap. Oh, the play of emotions in that face and those white eyes: the conflict, the desire, and excitement dueling with pride and anger! Was this what Neji would look like when Gaara slid into him for the first time? But despite his secret inner fantasies, the redhead just smiled down and leaned over Neji, whispering, “As much as I’d love to build a little sand cave around us and fuck you until you scream, Hyuuga, I’ve got a damn village to run and that means making sure all of Suna’s paperwork is in order. Now if you promise to behave, I’ll let you up and give you a good-bye kiss.”

Neji just growled at him, and Gaara sauntered a little away from the bed and pulled on his leather tracking boots. They were of soft leather, designed to leave minimal marks on the sand. They rose up to his knees, a rich soft brown leather with straps that wrapped and criss-crossed around Gaara’s shins. He knew he looked good in them, based on Temari’s comments and the dramatic increase in females willing to converse with him when he wore them. He slung his gourd over his bare skin and just draped the long brown coat he intended to put on once he left the room over one shoulder. He walked back over to the Hyuuga pinned on the bed and licked his lips slowly when he realized with a leap of joy that Neji was rock hard. He leaned over and gave the white-eyed teen another long, hot kiss, and even let his hand just brush over Neji’s erection. Then he whispered, “Good-bye, love,” and walked out the door. When he had the door open, he let the sand release Neji and return to his gourd.

When he shut the door behind him, Gaara just leaned back against it with his eyes shut for a moment. He had admitted it, he had called Neji his love. Of course, he’d made it seem casual. But Gaara was anything but casual as he leaned against the door struggling with himself and his desire to race back into the bedroom behind him and throw himself at Neji. The sound of scuffling made him open his eyes. Izumo and Kotetsu, back on duty with the sunrise, immediately straightened up and tried to look professional. Gaara looked at them with the eyes of someone who knew what love was and could see that they were a couple in love. But they were also healthy, young gay men who very much appreciated his sexy look and obviously a little jealousy had arisen.

Gaara grinned at them, “Kiss and make up, gentleman, I’m taken,” he said as he headed for Tamari’s door, pulling on his coat to cover up his naked chest with his hickeys and scratches. He couldn’t help but saunter a little. He felt like love incarnate. And he’d just reduced Tsunade’s two personal assistants, two elite chuunins, into drooling idiots with nosebleeds. He jerked open Temari’s door, not bothering to knock—turnabout was fair play.