The Truth in Dreams

 

Chapter 8: Marked

 

        As he walked along the outer edge of the forest that thinned out as it reached the bathhouse where the rest of his team was staying, Kakashi’s thoughts continued to wander to Obito and Rin. Not that his thoughts didn’t find their way to his passed teammates from time to time anyway, but Kagome’s story had welled up deep feelings of sorrow and regret for what happened to Obito and Rin that he hadn’t felt with such intensity in years. In fact, it was almost odd. Kakashi had long since forgiven himself and dreamt that--somewhere in the afterlife--Obito and Rin had said there was never anything to forgive. What is going on with this bathhouse?

            He certainly missed his old friends and teammates and had tried to live his life since then the way that Obito and Rin would have wanted him to live it--without regret and always protecting his friends and precious people and, as time had passed Naruto and Sakura had become some of his most precious people. Not to mention, from the very beginning, Naruto had reminded Kakashi not only of his beloved sensei, the fourth Hokage, but also of Obito. Despite all these feelings distracting him, Kakashi was positive that Kagome was more than just an elderly keeper of the bathhouse; he was sure that she had some sort of powers beyond the average person. He didn’t sense any malice in her, but he was realizing that listening to her story of The Three had generated more than a normal ‘sad story’ response in him and he assumed that it must have caused a similar response in the others as well. I wonder if the sake was spiked or had anything to do with it?

           

            As his thoughts wandered to the sake, Kakashi’s thoughts shifted from images of the faces of his young teammates to Anko’s face in ecstasy.

 

Whoa! Kakashi wasn’t quite prepared for the heat that hit him in the groin. It wasn’t all that long ago that he and Anko had had a secret rendezvous in the woods; it was true that Kakashi did have some feelings for Anko. But, he kept them pretty well buried--until recently when she had announced her feelings for him and they had met alone in the woods. It had only happened once so far, but Kakashi had to admit that he hoped whatever it was with Anko would continue. Still, though, this is getting a little ridiculous. I should head back and find the others.

 

It was then that Kakashi knew he couldn’t and shouldn’t head back quite yet. Both his normal eye and his still shrouded Sharingan eye narrowed.

 

I’m not fooled, Kakashi thought. His sensitive and well-trained hearing had picked up noise made by those who were supposed to be deadly silent.

 

Despite the fact that none of the emotional eruption summoned by Kagome’s story had died in him, Kakashi had always been known as one whose level of control and stoicism were legendary--now was no exception. He punched it down--Rin and Obito and Anko’s purring. He called out to the two masked members of Anbu and didn’t reveal a shred of his feelings in the tone of his deep voice.

 

“Come out and tell me exactly what it is that Danzo wants.”

 

Kakashi spun to face precisely where he knew the two members of the Foundation would appear. They materialized before him. One wore a raccoon-dog demon mask and the other a fox demon mask. The irony of the masks was not lost on Kakashi. Very funny, Danzo. Despite Danzo’s obnoxious sense of humor and the latent message he was trying to send by having his two students wear these particular masks to follow them, Kakashi had an idea of just which members of Anbu were beneath the masks and he knew they were not to blame.

 

He was a former member of Anbu himself and knew about the curse mark that forbade members from speaking ill of Danzo or his practices. Although he had always disliked Danzo’s practices in training his Foundation members, what he detested the most about Danzo were his arrogant political views about how to run and ‘protect’ Konoha. He was an isolationist, an extremist, and a violent relic of the very dark past of Konoha. Plus he just hated the way he treated Naruto like a weapon or a tool instead of like the inspiring and strong man and ninja he is.

 

“Kakashi Senpai. We are under strict orders to observe the behavior of your team and to order you to return Uzumaki Naruto back to Konoha where he can be contained.”

 

Kakashi knew better than to argue with the two Anbu members about Danzo’s dogged belief that ‘containment’ of Naruto, like he was some kind of wild animal, would prevent anyone from trying to steal the Kyuubi. He knew damn well that 9 times out of 10 Naruto himself and the strength of his will and the power of his kind heart were the only things that saved and protected Konoha. Not to mention, no one could contain Naruto anywhere--even if they had good intentions. Naruto does what he wants when he wants. Kakashi learned a long time ago that it was more effective to be along for the ride, by Naruto’s side helping, protecting, and encouraging him than trying to restrain him.

 

“Hmm. Is that all? Any other orders from Danzo?” Kakashi scrutinized the two nins in front of him. He knew they were at least two or three years younger than Naruto. Just kids. What is Danzo thinking? Why now? Has he learned about the breeding phase? Kakashi knew that was unlikely to impossible. Aside from Tsunade, Jiraiya, the Kazekage, and Naruto’s other friends and peers---who would never sell out Naruto to anyone--least of all to Danzo, no one knew about Naruto and the Kyuubi’s problem. There has to be a reason why he is stepping up his tactics to go after Naruto.

 

“Danzo-sama said that Jiraiya should be able to explain why. The threat of the Akatsuki has increased and a foe greater than Orochimaru is behind it.” The young nin in the fox mask finished and turned to his companion in the raccoon-dog mask, who spoke up next.

            “Kakashi-Senpai, please do as Danzo-sama asks. We suspect this foe to already be observing your team here as well. Should you come in contact with him, do not allow yourself to heed what dreams may come.” With that the two Anbu members poofed and were gone.



            What? ‘What Dreams May Come?’ Not only does that remind me of an English play I read once, what the hell does that mean? Genjutsu? Death and crossing over into hell? That sure sounds like a Genjutsu to me. Itachi? Unlikely. His Mangekyo Sharingan is certainly nothing to mess around with, but we’ve known for a while that Itachi isn’t leading the Akatsuki.

 

Kakashi could only conclude that there must be another powerful Genjutsu user working behind the scenes and the odds were high that it was another user of the Sharingan. The only known living members of the Uchiha clan were Itachi and Sasuke that leaves .  . . Kakashi shivered as he didn’t want to continue down the path that his thoughts were taking. If he’s still alive, we are in serious trouble.

 

With that, he made haste through the woods and back to the bathhouse to find Jiraiya. Hopefully he’s not totally obliterated yet from the rest of that sake.

 

************************

 

“HOW many BOTTLES you got back there? Bring me at least three more.” Suffice it to say, Jiraiya had not only finished the remainder of the sake from the dinner with his teammates, he had managed to consume another entire bottle before reaching behind the bar in the basement of the bathhouse and rummaging--against the pleas of the barkeep--for more booze.

            “See?! Here’s a perfectly good bottle.” He snatched up a very dainty bottle with frosted glass.



            “Sir. Please. That’s a sake we reserve for special occasions.” The barkeep waved his arms frantically.

 

“Special occasions huh? Well, lemme tell youuuuu! This is a very special occasion.” Jiraiya was beyond drunk; he was obliterated. The barkeep was entering a state of panic and it could be seen on his pale and tautly drawn face.

 

He was something of a pushover and Jiraiya in his current state didn’t seem to notice the wispy barkeep’s attempt at preventing Jiraiya’s snatch and grab routine. He muscled open the cap to the bottle and started to put his mouth to the rim. As he did so, the last young and uppity-looking couple sitting in the back of the bar made their way upstairs with grimaces on their faces--no doubt thinking something to the effect of ‘how uncouth’ while scowling at Jiraiya and the wimpy barkeep. Not only did Jiraiya give zero fucks about the attitude of those around him, he was far too busy trying to drown his own misery to realize that something was very wrong about his surroundings.

 

Jiraiya could swear that he had managed to take at least one solid pull from the very dainty bottle of sake, and thereby determine--that despite its price and feminine-like bottle--the taste was nothing that he had hoped it would be.

 

“BLECH! This tastes nothing like what it’s very voluptuous bottle insinuates. I expected this sake to feel like the warm embrace of beautiful women--” As Jiraiya rambled and withdrew the bottle from his lips he felt someone gently take the bottle from his hands and place it on the counter, someone that he was almost certain was not there a second ago, standing to his right in between his seat and the next barstool.

 

As Jiraiya turned, he saw a flash of deep-orange-spikey hair and a pair of eyes . . .  Rinnegan? Ya-hi-ko . . . Nagato? It must be because I’m drunk. I’m imagining this. The hand that gripped his shoulder and sent waves of chakra energy through his skin told him otherwise.

            “Hello, Sensei.”

**************************

            Sakura was amazed at how far ahead of her Naruto must have gotten. He only got up from the table a few seconds before I did! Where is he?? She had already made her way to the edge of the restaurant’s expansive balcony and was squinting into the shadows in the woods below. I don’t see him anywhere. Truthfully, she couldn’t see much of anything. Most of the bonfires that were lit on the balcony for the dinner service had since been put out as her group stayed behind to listen to Kagome’s story.



            She turned behind her. She could still see the dying light of the bonfire that was closest to the booth they were all sitting at not ten minutes earlier. She could also still make out the shadowy figures of Ino, Gaara, and Kagome sitting at the table together. She smiled to herself as she thought of Ino and Gaara. Naruto. Where are you?

 

Then, as if someone heard her, she made out a flash of orange sharply to her right at the furthest corner of the balcony--and the most dimly lit portion--near the service doors back into what she assumed was the kitchen.

 

He was sitting on the railing looking down at his hands. Relief washed over her. As she started to approach him he winced and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Sak-ura-chan.  .  .” His eyes fell back down to his hands. “I hurt you again.” Another wince.

 

“Naruto.”  She moved more quickly this time and reached out to put her hand on his arm without thinking; this was Naruto. She wasn’t ever going to be afraid of him or stay angry at him, ever. He winced again when her hand made contact.

 

“Until. . .” Whatever he was about to say was causing him immense pain. She saw the strain in his eyes and the way the pain made him look suddenly older and haggard.

 

“Until I figure out how to control myself. You should stay away from me.”

 

It felt like someone had twisted a knife inside her gut that she didn’t know was there. She stood frozen in place as she opened and closed her mouth involuntarily as the pain of the invisible knife churning in her stomach washed over her. She dropped her hand from Naruto’s arm. He closed his eyes as if the removing of her hand was her mark of agreement. After all this . . . after how long it took me to finally get up the nerve to start to show him and tell him how I feel  . . .  

 

Naruto shifted on the railing and chanced a longer gaze at Sakura, instead of keeping his blue eyes fixed on his hands as he had done moments ago. The pain in his eyes intensified and he tore his eyes away again; but this time, instead of just gluing his eyes back on his hands, in one swift motion he pushed himself off the balcony and jumped down into the woods below. The shock of how quickly he moved left Sakura speechless as she watched him disappear into the shadows of the trees. Something even deeper inside of her wailed out in agony as his form disappeared from view. I didn’t even have time to tell him! NO!

 

“No. Come back, Naruto. You belong to me.” Sakura felt herself say and believe that with more of herself than anything she had ever thought before. Deep inside her, another voice agreed and told her to move faster. She pushed herself up onto the balcony and followed him down into the trees. As she fell through the air, her Jade eyes started to glow more fiercely and her hair began to give off a scent that felt familiar to her and yet not. She only gave the slight change she felt a passing thought as her feet made contact with the soft earth.

 

She looked to the left where she had seen his form fade away into the trees and back to the right to give herself a better bearing on her surroundings before she took off to follow him. She noticed the edge of a part of the hotspring that wasn’t used for swimming; judging from the smell of sulfur and the considerable amount of steam rising from the water, she assumed it was because this portion was a bit too hot. She also noticed that the bottom of the bathhouse and its pylons were on either side of this portion of the spring and as the water wound its way back toward the building, a sort of artificial cave was created as the water disappeared and went under the building. Maybe they use it to heat the lower levels and use the sauna?

 

She turned back to her left with her goal in mind. I’ve got to get him back to the hotspring. I’ve got this terrible feeling and that usually means that I shouldn’t leave Naruto by himself. As she started to make her way into the woods she realized she had no idea where her orange-clothed fool had gone. She sighed loudly in frustration. O hell.

            “NARR-UTO!!” She yelled at the top of her lungs and waited . . . No answer.  Not good. He’s either ignoring me or is in trouble. He couldn’t have gotten far enough away that he can’t hear me. Alright, don’t panic. Just find him!  She stared at the treeline before her and closed her eyes. She tried to think as hard as she could about which direction he went in. Why can’t I have that sense that I had of his chakra like I always do when I’m dreaming!? Wait. Nevermind. Sakura remembered that the last dream she had when she could ‘sense him’ was a bad one. Fuck this. Without any particular reason, she took off due east from the wall of the hotsprings resort. At least this is generally in the direction of the place I saw him last.



            “NARR-UTO!!” She yelled again as she went and again no answer.

 

****************************

            Two floors above the balcony and deep in the large attached bathroom to Shikamaru’s bedroom in the now empty boys’ suite, Temari was stripping Shikamaru of his clothing while sucking on his neck. The shower was running. They had come into the bathroom with the primary intention of showering and heading to bed. But, like most things between Temari and Shikamaru, that wasn’t exactly how it happened.

 

Temari--who was less buzzed and more in control of herself at the time than Shikamaru, had sauntered into the bathroom as a rather tired Shikamaru had followed and mumbled something about how troublesome alcohol was once you stopped drinking or having fun--you immediately became sleepy. Then Temari had smiled and stuck her ass in Shikamaru’s face as she bent over to turn on the shower--that had stopped Shikamaru dead in his tracks. He had grabbed her ass as she simultaneously turned in his grip and they began to kiss with reckless abandon.

 

That’s more or less how Shikamaru had found himself--with Temari as the aggressor--pressed up against the double vanity as Temari undressed him. At least he wasn’t tired anymore. She had successfully pulled off his vest and shirt and decided to leave his fishnet undershirt intact. She went to work on his shorts and his hands found their way to her shirt which he took off with a quickness that only came from practiced familiarity. He smirked as he remembered how long it had taken him the first time when he had fumbled with all the straps. Now that Temari’s naked back and chest were exposed to him, Shikamaru found himself to not only be significantly less tired than he was when they fumbled their way into his room, but to be aching with an incredible and adoringly familiar desire for her. Tch. She can get me to do anything whenever she wants. Who am I kidding. No other woman can do this to me. I should finally tell her. I can’t keep her away from me any longer . . .

 

Just as Shikamaru was contemplating finally ‘sealing the deal’ with Temari both sexually and emotionally and thus admitting his strong feelings for her, he felt her shift away from sucking on his neck and rubbing her erect nipples against his mesh shirt and skin.

 

Shikamaru raised his eyebrows at her as she smirked back and kneeled before him. The steam from the shower was filling the bathroom with a warm mist; the mirror was fogged; condensation was forming everywhere--the entire effect of which was making Temari’s desire for Shikamaru roar to a fever pitch. They hadn’t yet slept together and Temari had decided after her talk with the girls (Ino and Sakura) at the bath house this morning that she was going to finally join herself with her wonderful fool once and for all. Consequences be damned. I love him and I know he loves me, even if he hasn’t said it back. No more waiting. . .Time to show him just what I mean!! But . . .maybe make him suffer a bit first, then he won’t be able to stand it. Her smirk grew bigger.

 

The growing mirth and light in his beloved’s eyes was not lost on Shikamaru. That glint in her eyes that now combined forces with her smirk only meant one thing--he was in for it. Shikamaru felt his cock throb with the promise of whatever it was she intended to do to him.

 

In one fluid motion, Temari shoved down Shikamaru’s black-boxer-briefs, gripped his cock in her left hand, and plunged him into her mouth--or at least as much of him as she could manage. Shikamaru’s knees buckled and he grinded his teeth in an effort to stifle the moan that was begging to come out.

 

Temari felt his weight shift drastically as she used her cheeks and lips to suck on him. He’s deliberately trying not to moan or react!! It regularly drove Temari crazy whenever she got physical with Shikamaru. He was always so controlled.

 

In all of their encounters, which thus far had only gone as far as her blowing him, some heavy dry humping, and him working his magic on her with his hands only, which still aggravated her a bit (that’s another thing to remedy--he owes me some serious head), he had never made a peep. He smirked certainly, even chuckled, which Temari admittedly found extremely sexy. But, she wanted him to cry out! More  importantly, neither of them had had an orgasm and she wanted one so desperately for both of them! That’s right, the damn bastard didn’t even finish in front of her. Talk about control. Despite his facade, Temari knew in her heart that his lazy-boy mellow attitude was his attempt at controlling a deep well of emotion. That was the funny thing about him. To everyone but her, it seemed, Shikamaru was this laid back genius without a care in the world, but she knew better.

 

Where his deep emotions were concerned, he was the most passionate person she had ever met. The only glimpse others ever had at the storm of feeling he kept buried was when he was grieving after the horrible death of Azuma. She knew him. She knew he needed to finally come undone and be uncorked. He needed to realize it was ok to be vulnerable with her. Something clicked in her mind. That’s why he hasn’t wanted to go all the way! His feelings are so strong for me that he’s afraid! Temari had to re-focus on her glorious task of blowing him to keep herself from visibly rolling her eyes at her own stupidity.

 

I just have to figure out how to get him to realize that. She pondered as she continued to lick him from base to tip as she sucked him. He was still restraining himself. Temari remembered Ino and Sakura telling her earlier in the day not to give up! Time to step up my tactics.

 

As she continued to match an agonizingly slow rhythm on his cock between her mouth and her left hand, Shikamaru felt beads of sweat start to form on his forehead from his concentrated effort to not cry out at the pleasure she was giving him and the simultaneous frustration he felt that she wasn’t going faster. It felt so much harder than normal to control his instincts. He felt like he was going to burst--in more ways than one. If only she knew how hot she makes me and how hard it is to restrain myself from blowing my load with all the little things she does. Thank god I took care of business before dinner!

 

His certainty a few minutes before about finally going all the way with her started to waver. He could feel his body throb with the need to take her and show how much she meant to him. She’ll think I’m a weak fool and a pervert at that. He thought of all the times he had to excuse himself to go to the bathroom--even when they were just on a mission or hanging out with friends and she bent over, or moved a certain way. He literally had to go into the bathroom to finish himself off for fear of groping her in public half the time. Everyone will know I’m a bigger cry baby than Naruto and a bigger horndog than Jiraiya. Phhhht. Only she does this to me.

 

Terrified of what he thought of as emotional weakness, his face grimaced as he imagined her laughing at him and the inevitable tears of love and joy he knew he would cry at being joined with her. Tch. I’m the troublesome one. Just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt Temari stop her ministrations, which jolted him out his simultaneous reverie and pain.

 

His grimace at the loss of her touch earned a smirk from Temari who gave his cock one more lick for good measure and then stood up. Shikamaru remained still as he watched her slowly remove her shorts and fishnets.

 

She locked eyes with him as she stood only in her royal purple thong before slowly pushing it completely off. Shikamaru’s pulse skyrocketed and he felt his cheeks color at the sight. It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other naked in bits and pieces before, but to see her completely bare before him disarmed him. He swallowed hard. His Temari was forward, but even this calm confidence and complete vulnerability before him was new.

 

He shifted his weight and figured it was only fair that he follow suit. He fully removed his boxers and stepped out of them and shrugged out of his fishnet undershirt. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. But, she resumed her plan. She slowly removed all the pins securing her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. The steam from the still running shower made the ends start to curl.

 

He moved like he was going to reach out for her and embrace her, but she got to him first and gripped his wrists with her hands and shook her head. He swallowed again--harder this time. Confident that he understood, she released his wrists from her grip and slowly reached up--holding his gaze all the while--and let down his hair.

 

She just barely heard his sharp intake of breath. He loves it when I touch his hair, but he never lets me take it down like this. He did this time. His own hair hung down to his chin it was thick and make him look a bit like a punk rock star. All the girls would forget Sasuke’s crappy hair and fawn all over my baby if they saw this! Too bad bitches! He’s allll mine! She blushed. Again he made a move to reach for her. No. Things will go the way they always do if I let you do that right now.

 

Instead of restraining his wrists again, she put one arm up to block and re-direct him like they were fighting and used the other hand to gently twist his right nipple.

 

“OW! Bitch!” His voice was heavy and laden with desire and he said it with more passion in his eyes than she had ever seen. Again, he acquiesced to her demands not to touch her.

 

Shikamaru noticed that he was starting to tremble from the need to feel her.

 

“Tch.” He grit his teeth and tried to cover his state with mock exasperation and watched her as she stepped back wondering what she had up her sleeve.

 

Gotcha Shika! She bit her bottom lip and smirked at him.

 

He could feel his body pulsate more strongly with need for her. Can’t run and finish myself this time!  As he grew nervous at what this would mean, he cocked another eyebrow at his beloved. What is she doing?

 

Temari turned around, giving him a nice view of her ass. When she was sure she had his full attention again, she bent over, completely exposing her womanhood in full view to him.

 

He almost fell over and bit his cheek with the effort to remain quiet. He could taste the coppery flavor of his own blood as he knew he bit too hard. He had never seen her--all of her---like this. Their encounters that involved him touching her had always involved either clothing, darkness, or angles such that he never caught a glimpse of her. There was a reason he avoided it. He knew it would undo him. And he was right.

 

He felt pre-cum drip out of the tip of his cock. And then, Temari heard the most subtle and sexy sound in the world erupt from his mouth--so quiet that if she hadn’t been listening, she would not have heard it. He moaned.

 

Temari moaned back in response. Satisfied beyond her wildest dreams that she had him, she went for the killing blow. She glanced over her shoulder and saw her wonderful Shika’s chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing--one hand white-knuckled on the edge of the sink, the other digging into his thigh like he so desperately wanted to touch himself. Then she met his gaze, the rolling fire in his eyes let her know that the dam was cracking. She moaned again seeing him like that.

 

Then she went for it, with her left hand spread on the wall in front of her for balance, she reached her right hand over her ass and ran her fingers over her lips, and plunging two fingers deep inside her achingly wet core, she began to pleasure herself. She heard him before she could react.

 

She heard a crack that sounded mildly like he must have broken the sink--and that was her only warning. The next thing she knew, his shadows, that were his signature jutsu, roughly grabbed her hips and tilted her up, pushing her roughly forward and flush against the cool tile wall. The shadows spread to her ankles and gripped hard, spreading her legs apart. She gasped in pleasure.

 

And then he was there--slammed against her back and her ass. His hands moving up to roughly thread his fingers through hers as they were spread on the wall. His breath was hot and fast in her ear.

 

“Now it’s my turn.” His whisper was followed by his tongue on her neck and a bite on her ear. Temari felt her nipples sharpen against the tile. Yes! Yes!

 

He removed his right hand from its place threaded with hers and squeezed her ass cheek. She whimpered at his touch. Then, he gave the same cheek a hard slap. She cried out his name. His voice was back at her ear.

 

“I cannot see any solution to this standoff of ours that doesn’t end with me fucking your brains out, which means, I should tell you something very important before I do. I love you, Temari and always have. I will never share this part of me with another soul. You are my one and only.”

 

Temari felt overwhelming emotion surge through her and the first edge of tears of happiness in her eyes.

 

He slapped her ass again--hard. She moaned at the pleasurable sting it left on her flesh.

 

“I love you too, Shika. You are the only one in the world for me.” His heart clenched hearing her say that. He felt his own tears of happiness in the corners of his eyes.

 

“I know. But, unfortunately, my love, you have undone me and I only accept your pleasure as recompense for how long I have waited and how many nights and moments I spent only with my hand instead of inside of you.”

 

Temari felt her insides clench involuntarily as a mini-orgasm rocked her at his words. All talking ceased from that point forward.

 

****************************

Ino was surprised--surprised at how quickly she felt the need to sleep overtake her. She had been so enthralled by Kagome’s story of the plum blossom and the raccoon dog and the obvious implications for her relationship with the Kazekage that she hardly noticed the need to sleep sneak up on her and impact her like running headlong into a brick wall. But once Kagome finished her tale, Ino felt her eyes drooping.

 

Despite her own ignorance of her current state, Gaara was not so oblivious. They had both remained frozen solid in their previous positions at the table during Kagome’s telling of the second story, but all the while Gaara had been completely attentive to Ino’s state beside him. The need to care for her roused him from his position and he slowly turned to face her now nearly sleeping form. He was careful not to touch her as he moved.

 

Kagome watched with a knowing smile on her face as she got up from the booth. “Trust your instincts my dear Kazekage.” Gaara paused in his actions at looked up at Kagome with a puzzled expression as she began to walk away.

 

“Goodnight, young ones.” She said over her shoulder as she headed inside.

 

Gaara knew they were now the only ones still out on the balcony, but that was irrelevant at the moment. Ino was uncomfortable and needed rest. Now as he faced her fully with his hips pivoted in his seat in the booth so he could gaze at her sleeping form, he decided he needed to move her upstairs for her to rest properly, which would mean touching her. His face colored at the idea.

 

As he hesitated and worried that she would not want such attentions from him again--even innocent as they would be at the moment, in her now fully asleep state, she slumped over and rested her head on his shoulder and chest. His eyes widened at the contact and he was frozen in place again. Afraid that any movement would make the moment end, he stayed stalk still, unsure of what to do next.

 

Then he felt her move again in her sleep. She nuzzled deeper into his shoulder and now his chest, breathed deeply like she was reveling in his scent, and sighed contentedly. Gaara was dumbfounded.

 

After their only private meeting, which still felt very much like a dream to Gaara--when they had split ways--he figured that was it; that was all she would grant him.

 

It never crossed his mind that he deserved anything more. He was still in awe of her and that she let him inside of her and touch her the way he had that night. He felt unworthy to be touching something so beautiful, to be inside someone so wonderful. Gaara had never had a relationship with a woman before and while he knew some forms of love--his siblings, his passed mother, his people as Kazekage, his closest friends--he had never known this: this smoldering and burning ache inside of him to be close to someone in anyway possible, to make them happy regardless of what weakness it might reveal in himself, to want to protect someone more ferociously than he ever felt anything in his life.

 

This smoldering ache could never be snuffed out, no matter how much Gaara poured himself into his work as Kazekage or how hard he trained. It pained him more than any of those first physical wounds he felt in the Chuunin exams, or his death after Shukaku was extracted from him, or even the hollow loneliness he felt in his younger years; it pained him and it simultaneously made him feel as if he had never been alive until her. And he was stronger because of her. But he never allowed himself to hope with a shred of his existence that he would ever be permitted to touch her again.

 

Yet here she was, her head on his shoulder, her breathing even. He stared down at her angelic face and the way her eyelashes fluttered so slightly with her breathing as she slept against him. The world stilled around him as he heard only her breathe and felt only her heartbeat against him. He could stay like this until the end of the world and need nothing more--expect nothing more.

 

The constant smoldering she birthed within him had been stoked to a righteous flame and he felt his body reacting to her of its own accord, however. His pulse quickened, his skin tingled. His groin surged with blood.

 

But, she had only fallen asleep on him, he reasoned, she was unaware that it was him. He would take her upstairs so she could rest. He shifted again so he could fit one arm around her torso and another beneath her legs without disturbing her and cradle her bridal-style back into the bathhouse.

 

As he got he got her body into position, he had to shift his shoulder and thus her head a bit in order to pick her up. He froze again when he felt her move and saw her face turn into a grimace.

 

Have I hurt her?

 

He remained still with one arm beneath her legs and the other wrapped behind her shoulders as he was just about to stand and carry her off the bench. She shifted her body closer to his and leaned into his touch. She was positioned now so that her head was much closer to his erratically beating heart.

 

She nuzzled him again. Gaara waited.

 

But this time, she moaned sweetly. Gaara felt every pore in his body come alive; he remembered hearing such a melodious sound before. She is dreaming.

 

“Mmmm. Gaara.”

 

Hearing that made Gaara twitch with a tremor of pleasure—as though his body were having a reflexive memory of what she had done to him that night when she moaned his name in much the same way. Not only did his body react, but Gaara found himself feeling a surge of pride and possessiveness at the sound of her moaning his name, even if it was only while she slept. He decided he needed to get her upstairs and behind closed doors as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to share these noises she made with another soul. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard and hearing them again made his need to keep her to himself come alive.

 

He stood up the rest of the way with her tucked gently against his body and rather than walking back into the resort, he used his sand to teleport them directly into his bedroom. As they arrived, he gazed down at her again to make sure the teleportation hadn’t disturbed her in anyway. He noted a few stray grains of his sand on her check and nose. While he felt the compulsory urge to clean her and keep any of his own bodily excretions off of her angelic face, that very possessive part of him loved seeing his sand on her like this.

 

I want to see it everywhere. Gaara blanched and blushed at his own thoughts as he carefully laid her on his neatly turned down futon. He turned to ensure that his bedroom door was locked from the inside as he had left it earlier in the evening and made to remove his outer robes and put that neatly with his other things. He also carefully removed his sandals.

 

Then he turned to observe Ino again. Deciding that her comfort was more important than any embarrassment he may feel, he made his way back to the futon and knelt on the tatami mat beside her still soundly sleeping form. Then he reached down and carefully removed her sandals and set them aside. Seeing that she hadn’t stirred at all when he removed her shoes, he figured he could keep going.

 

Next, he pulled off her knee guards and set them with her sandals. Deciding immediately that anything else would be entirely inappropriate, Gaara left her Kimono intact and carefully draped the blanket over her—but not without first breathing in deeply to capture her scent deep inside his brain. Gaara stared at her serene sleeping face once more and stood up. Although he was shy about many things involving Ino, he was not shy about his own body—at least not to severely.

 

Deciding he would shower before sleeping on the tatami mats to give her the privacy of the futon, he removed his inner robe and his shin guards that he wore beneath his pants. Rather than taking it any further and causing her discomfort if she did wake up, he headed into the large attached bathroom in just his pants and shut the door.

 

*************************************************************

Ino felt so warm and so comfortable. Ahh. Sleep was such a wonderful thing. But, it was strange, because she didn’t remember climbing into bed. In fact, she could swear that the last thing she remembered was falling asleep at the booth outside with Kagome and—oh god—Gaara. Did she really fall asleep on his shoulder like she had a feeling she did? How mortifying.

Sighing and deciding she should get up and shower regardless of how she ended up in her own bed, she opened her eyes. Not noticing anything different or off about the ceiling as she stared up at it—all the suites were nearly identical after all—she sat up and as she looked around she noticed her own shoes and knee guards next to the futon.

That’s strange, I don’t remember my futon bedding being bright crimson like this. She thought absently as she looked down at the bedding she was nestled in. Then she saw another pair of boots and clothing closer to the suite door. As if her brain needed a minute to reset, and perhaps too because the only light source in the room was emanating from under the bathroom door, she deftly noted that the shower was already running.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Those are Gaara’s robes. And this is his room! And he’s in his shower, which means he’s NAKED!!!

“Eep!” She squeaked and felt a bit like a 10 year old girl on the playground saying boys had cooties.

But, damnit, this was the guy that she lost her virginity too and—damnit again—she still very much had feelings for and he all but stopped talking to her and pretended nothing ever happened. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she vaguely remembered what Temari had told her earlier in the day about Gaara’s recent emotional state. But, whether it was because she just woke up in the Kazekage’s bed for the second time in her life or because she was still dealing with her sleep-logged brain—she couldn’t grasp the meaning of what was right in front of her face. Sadly, she is a blonde—all jokes aside.

She did a quick once over of herself and noticed she was still fully clothed—albeit her Kimono was slightly ruffled and her obi was loose.

“Well there goes my hope of not embarrassing myself—but at least I’m still dressed.” She muttered. Time to go. As Ino attempted to extricate herself from the tumble of crimson red blankets that still bore the incredible scent of Gaara—the late afternoon sun brushed with juniper and of course warm undulating sand—she heard a noise that filled her with dread.

The bathroom door opened and out stepped Gaara clad in his dark grey tactical pants that he famously wore under his crimson robe. He was bare from the waist up. With his pants slung low on his hips—revealing his well-defined hip flexor, skin that glowed like fresh snow, healthy pectorals, cut abdominals and a faint trail of red hair that lead from his belly button and into the most evil pair of pants Ino had ever seen—Gaara hadn’t noticed she was awake yet because he was toweling his hair with his eyes closed.

There is a god. Deciding that she had no other options at this point but to pretend to still be asleep, Ino silently slid back into the covers and closed her eyes. She heard him throw the towel back into the bathroom and the soft padding of his bare feet across the tatami mats as he made his way to the futon.

Ino had to force herself to keep her breathing evenly so it looked like she was asleep. She could feel him kneel next to the futon—feel him hovering over her. What is he doing? That was when he reached out and ever so gently traced her jaw with two of his fingers, so light and gentle it could have been air. Ino was unable to hide the intake of breath that escaped her as he did so.

Like a child that had burned his hand on a hot stove, Gaara snatched his hand back. Without thinking, Ino opened her eyes to meet his. She saw the range of emotions flicker across his face: concern, embarrassment, fear, loneliness, and most endearingly to Ino, shy affection flavored with desire.

Feeling that he had over-stepped his bounds and struggling with her looking directly at him, Gaara looked down to break the spell and made to get up and move away. Ino reached out and grasped his wrist firmly with her hand before he could move away. He froze, but didn’t raise his gaze.

He was so close to her like this—as she was curled up on her side on the futon and as he was kneeling near her face. When he didn’t move again she released his wrist and allowed her hand to float up to rest on his chin and cheek—tilting his face back to look at hers.

She could see his chest rise and fall more rapidly at her touch. When he met her gaze again—she was surprised by the sharp change in the emotion she found in his eyes. They were hooded with need and passion. Ino felt more than remembered the spell that look had put on her once before. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip.

As her thumb was making a second pass over his lip, his eyes closed and he parted his lips, stuck out his tongue and licked her thumb.

She gasped. He groaned ever so softly in response. Never one to be called un-aggressive, Gaara moved in for the kill and bent over her and crushed his lips to hers. All hesistancy forgotten, Ino raised her hands to thread in Gaara’s hair and tug and press him into her. He had his hands braced on either side of her form as her upper body twisted to meet his lips, but her lower body was still positioned sideways and very much tangled in the sheets. As if he could sense her lack of comfort he broke their kiss to shred the blankets from her legs so she could adjust; he stretched out to meet her body as it was now flat on the futon.

When he settled between her thighs and his exposed and her still clothed chest made contact, they both closed their eyes and moaned at the contact. Although neither knew this about the other—they hadn’t had any contact with anyone of the opposite sex that night. Needless to say, they were starved and dying for the contact.

Their lips met again in a searing kiss as Gaara probed Ino’s now parted lips with his tongue. Her tongue found his and he rolled his pelvis into hers. Unable to breathe or even think with the overwhelming pleasure of him on top of her and kissing her, Ino broke their kiss and tossed her head back onto the pillow and cried out at the feel of his erection pressing into her clothed core.

Gaara’s eyes roved over her very obvious pleasure like a man on fire. He hastily tugged on the neckline of her kimono. His mind had long since succumbed to the need to be close to her, his most precious person; all his normal hesitancy had burned down the second she touched his lips.

As Ino felt her Kimono loosening, her body was screaming for the pleasure that only Gaara had ever brought her. No matter how many toys were recommended to her by her girlfriends or how many trashy novels she read, nothing compared to what he did to her—in just one night together. Ino didn’t know the meaning of an orgasm without Gaara. She knew it was how powerful her feelings were for him that made his every touch set her alight; but, that same part of her was terrified of getting hurt again.

She reached out and stayed his hands as he made to tug her Obi off with her own. Gaara froze, the raging fire in his eyes calmed momentarily as he gazed with concern at her.

“Gaara . . . what am I to you?” His eyes widened at the question and he eyed her cautiously for a minute like she had asked him for some Kage secrets.

“Medicine. The best kind.” He said softly as his eyes bored into hers.

“Medicine?” Ino was lost.

“You’re a medic nin. You know all about what heals injuries and the best way to re-set broken bones. But, what best heals a broken heart? You are the strongest form of medicine for a broken heart I have ever felt, so strong that I suffer without it. When you are gone, it burns when I’m awake and keeps me awake when I try to sleep. It hurts deeper than any wound I have ever known and my sand cannot protect me from it. I am addicted to your medicine and this ache deep in my heart is only gone when you are close.” Ino stared at him dumbfounded.

As if he were concerned she might not interpret him correctly, he took one of her hands and had it trace the “love” tattoo on his forehead.

“You are a love more powerful and healing than any I have ever felt or experienced.” Ino was tearing up at this and, for the first time in her life, she was completely speechless.

Gaara misinterpreted her tearing eyes for pain and withdrew his hands from her and started to move away. The movement caused Ino to snap out of her thunderstruck state as she noticed the deep pain and self-consciousness in his eyes as he withdrew. She grabbed his face in her hands before he could withdraw any further.

He was still laying over her and looked at her again with those beautiful sea-foam green eyes as though he had just seen a shooting star.

“Why are you crying? Are you pain? What medicine do you need?” He was stumbling over his words trying to take care of her and Ino’s heart swelled even further with how unbelievably sweet it was.

“I need . . .” she was being cruel—making him wait to find out how to heal what ails her. He looked ready to charge into action to help her.

“I need Gaara. I need his love, because I love him too.” Then Ino really did see something as rare as a shooting star. Gaara smiled.

Now it was Ino’s turn to be aggressive as she brought her lips to his in a searing kiss; she guided his hands back to her kimono as she fully removed her Obi. He let the untraditional kimono part open to reveal the red lace bra and match thong she had on beneath. He growled in pleasure and dove for her now fully exposed neck and sucked with reckless abandon. Ino could feel the pleasure-pain of the bruise that was forming where he worried the skin over her jugular. She dug her nails into his shoulders as he swept his arms beneath her back inside the kimono and drew them both up into a kneeling position—chest to chest. She released her grip on his shoulders only long enough to slide her arms out of the kimono. Gaara reached behind her to fumble with the bra clasp as his mouth left her neck and found its way to her ear.

“I don’t ever want to be without you again. I can’t stand it. I’ll do anything.” He spoke softly in her ear. Ino could feel his sand defense starting to whirl in the air around them like it had that night.

“You have me. Forever. But, I need you inside me so desperately right now that it hurts. Right now, your cock is my medicine.” Ino—always the crude one—whispered back into his ear.

Without hesitation and with a deep groan in response, now that his most precious one told him what she needed and that it was him, Gaara smoothly unbuttoned his pants and freed his erection while his sand lifted her ass and simultaneously sat her on him as he sat on the futon.

With the sand acting as back support for both of them—pushing their chests impossibly close together, Ino felt Gaara’s hand shove her thong to the side as rubbed the tip of his erection first against her bundle of nerves at the peak of her folds and then against her lips.

She cried out his name and in one fluid motion he sheathed himself inside of her.

****************************************************************

Sakura had been walking for what felt like hours, but she knew it had to only be about 45 minutes, but she still hadn’t found her blonde idiot and she still felt just as uncertain about the direction she had chosen to follow him into the forest as she did when she first set out. Her panic was growing by the minute; she wasn’t exactly sure what she was afraid of—she just had this strong sinking suspicion that something bad was going to happen.

Then as if the universe liked playing jokes on her, she realized that she had passed the same dead pine tree not 10 minutes ago.

“Fuck. Genjutsu.” How could she be so stupid!? In her panic to find Naruto, she had let her guard down and wasn’t paying as much attention to her surroundings. Not to mention this stupid informal pink kimono was driving her crazy. She felt ridiculous and wished she had her ninja tools at her disposal. She only had the foresight to put one small kunai on a thigh strap for emergencies.

“Release.” But the Genjutsu remained, which Sakura knew meant this Genjutsu user was really, really skilled. Not good at all. Deciding to play along with it and deal with her assailant sooner rather than later, she stopped walking and sighed.

“Look, dipshit, you got me. So do what you are going to do and be done with it. Either torture me or fight; the old ‘walking in circles’ Genjutsu technique is really boring and overdone.” She heard movement behind her and was that a chuckle? She thought she simultaneously felt the Genjutsu illusion lift. Finally. But before she could finish charging her fists with chakra, she felt the edge of cold steel at her throat.

“Sakura.” His voice was in her ear and she could just barely feel his chest against her back—a voice and chest she was all too familiar with. She clenched her jaw.

“Sasuke.”