Smell

Slowly, insistently, the smell of it seeped through the haze. His hands were curved into claws; still open, still granting a space for breath and a chance at life. Gaara's fingers twitched before tensing, slowly closing and relaxing in miniscule movements.

They had stopped struggling a while ago, slashed hitai-ate bands glinting under the sun as they were held still by the hard, packed sand around them, and the fear Gaara could smell in their sweat, in the abrasions and cuts they'd sustained, in the blood seeping into his sand. It was intoxicating.

This is what you live for, the whisper came. They would look good torn to pieces. Suna is far away and no one will question you. Not now, after all this time.

How long has it been since you've dipped your hands into blood-drenched sand?

The smell came again. Stronger this time, as the angry hiss of his sand began to ebb away, and Gaara felt the edges of his awareness expand just as he inhaled heavily to fill his oxygen-starved lungs. Only then did he turn his head towards the source of it.

Lee smiled at him, round eyes unusually hooded as the other man pulled his bandaged hand back from his shoulder. Gaara caught the last whiff of antiseptic and medicinal balm- sharp and aromatic -before another layer of sand rolled over his face, hiding the tight grit of his teeth.

Lee whirled around, his back close enough for the Kazekage to touch, as he held up a fist towards the five Suna shinobi around them. "Yosh! That was a glorious battle that we fought together, my precious allies! Surely no rogue nin will attempt another theft for weeks! I am so happy to be of assistance while my mission allows me to be in this foreign land!"

Cutting through the tension with a laugh, Kankuro shook his head and manipulated Kuroari to take the retrieved scroll into its belly. "Shit Lee, with the number of missions you've taken here, I'm beginning to think Konoha wants you to stay in Suna."

"Haha! Or they may just want me to share the youthful teachings of the wise, and handsome Gai-sensei with you!" Lee replied with a grin, hands resting on his hips and his elbows jutting out on either side of his chuunin vest.

The banter went on as Gaara wordlessly stood up from his crouch and began tightening the sand around the two men's noses and mouths. He could taste the cool mint of Lee's shampoo this close, almost masking that of the dried streaks of blood over Lee's knuckles and arms.

"-has been a true challenge for me to withstand the heat-!"

"Lee."

That was all it took for the man in front of him to jump aside, immediately flashing him a thumbs up. "Ah! Sorry Gaara-kun, I was getting carried away!"

Gaara shifted his gaze from Lee towards Kankuro's second-in-command, stepping forward and depositing the now unconscious men at his feet. "Kankuro, take them back for interrogation. I need a report on our archive security, and find out how they got past." He crossed his arms. "This will not happen again."

"Leave it to us." Kankuro nodded, smirking once at Lee before he and his team bowed and headed off towards the village.

There was a moment of silence before Lee spoke beside him, "You have not given me my orders, Gaara-sama."

Accepting the gentle admonishment, Gaara moved to stand right inside the other man's personal space, and the warm arms coming up to circle readily around him. Shutting his eyes, he could make out, just faintly, traces of curry, aniseed and tumeric from Suna's spice market hovering on Lee's clothes. There was sage, from the incense they lit at the temple at noon, and in the bathing oil Temari stocked at their residence. There was musk, sweet and familiar as the shape of Lee's shoulders; his green jumpsuit taut against his muscled frame. "Touch me."

He stayed still when Lee's palm pressed warmly against the back of his neck, stroking through his hair before moving their faces closer. He stayed still even when Lee began planting soft, fleeting kisses over his closed eyelids, forehead and cheeks; the dampness of a shy tongue tracing over the press of his lips as his sand slid off in patches.

Breathing in, he would respond to all of that, in a moment, when he had finished reminding himself of what he now lived for.

A/N: Part II-verse, pre-Gaara abudction