Title: With a Touch
Author: vendettadays
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Gaara, Hinata Hyūga
Rating: T
Length: 980
Summary: He only hoped that there was someone out there who would love him as completely and unconditionally as Hinata loved Naruto.

Gaara sighed at the fluctuating chakra signature outside his hotel suite. The person was taking their time, hovering outside like an irritating fly. It had followed him from the hotel's function room, up the ten flights of stairs, and along the corridor until he reached the room he was staying in. The chakra signature bore no ill intent, but it was passionate and determined and gentle all at the same time. It probably belonged to an opportunistic assassin. He changed out of his formal Kage robes and pulled on a pair of black trousers and a long-sleeved shirt. His sand slithered silently from his gourd by his bed, as he hung his robes in the wardrobe so that it would not get creased if he did have to fight. The world was in a time of prolonged peace, but the Five Kages were still targets to an ambitious few. Even during the inauguration of Konaha's newly appointed Sixth Hokage.

The door flew open and the handle banged against the wall, imbedding itself into the plaster. Gaara shifted into a defensive stance, feet shoulder-width apart, and arms up to protect his body. His sand whispered by his outstretched hands, ready to fly at the intruder with only a twitch of his fingers, but he faltered when he saw who his 'assassin' was.

Hinata Hyūga was standing on unsteady feet with her hands resting on her hips and a deep frown upon her face. His tensed muscles relaxed and he lowered his hands to his side. The corner of his mouth twitched, threatening to form into a smile as he watched one of the most formidable shinobi of their generation wobble on the spot. Although, why exactly she was in the doorway of his room was beyond him.

'Kazekage, you should be downstairs at the party.'

He knew that had she been sober she would have been mortified by her rudeness. He did not mind, rather it was a welcome change to the timid and uncertain woman she was before the war. But no one had survived unchanged after the war.

'I was tired,' replied Gaara, as he walked towards her. 'Please allow me to escort you downstairs.'

'No, I'm here to escort you back to the party,' said Hinata. She took a teetering stride into the room and closed the door forcefully behind her, ripping the handle from where it was stuck in the wall and leaving a sizeable hole to be repaired. 'Naruto would want you to stay until the party had finished.'

A longing filled Gaara's chest and he smiled ruefully at her. Her love for Naruto was so strong that she would, even drunk, worry about his feelings. Naruto was a fool for not realising her love and for being oblivious to what had always been right in front of him. He only hoped that there was someone out there who would love him as completely and unconditionally as Hinata loved Naruto.

'I assure you that Naruto will not miss my presence at the party.'

The last time he saw his friend, Naruto was too busy having a drinking contest with Inuzuka. He had stayed for an hour after the inauguration ceremony before taking his leave, out of respect for Kakashi Hatake. Had it been Naruto he might had stayed for two. He was about to repeat his offer when Hinata pitched to the side suddenly. He lunged forward and caught hold of her hand, as she righted herself from the fall at the last moment.

'It's very dizzy in here,' murmured Hinata, as she leaned heavily on his arm for support.

Gaara guided her to the sofa at the foot of the bed and sat with her. He wanted to get someone, anyone other than him, because he was woefully unqualified to handle these kinds of situations. Commanding an army of shinobi or negotiating the terms of a treaty between the five hidden villages was easier than this, but Hinata held onto his hand tightly and refused to let go.

'I will get Naruto and –'

His eyes widened and the words stuck in his throat, as her lithe fingers slid along his jaw line to cup his cheek. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol she had drunk and her lips were lightly parted. She was unbearably close to him, but the intimacy of her touch froze him in place and stopped the air in his lungs. Her eyelids fluttered shut, as she closed the tiny gap left between them. The firm pressure of her lips shocked his stilled heart and sent it pounding. He tried to move away, to retreat from her kiss, because it was emboldened by confidence born from and fuelled by saké. But her hand stayed upon his cheek.

Hinata's lips moved to the corner of his before sliding off completely, as she slumped against his shoulder. The longing in his chest intensified from the abrupt absence of Hinata's touch, but his ability to breathe returned and he reminded himself with a deep, calming breath that he was not the one she wanted in the first place. He lowered her onto the sofa gently and placed a blanket over her. Temari would know what to do, and he needed to tell her before anyone made assumptions. The blood and broken body of an assassin would have been easier to explain away than this. The implications would have been less scandalous too.

He grabbed his gourd and swung it onto his shoulder. In the end, Hinata had managed, probably not in the way she had intended, to get him to return to the party. He only hoped, as he left his room that Hinata would not remember tonight with the clarity he did, especially not how she had managed to steal a kiss and burrow her way into his heart with a touch.