Disclaimer: Well…it's safe to say that Naruto and Gaara are like the TOP things on my Christmas list…but not mine ;-; yet.

AN: This is a reallllly bizarrely written fic I wrote for a friend—just to make her laugh and smile a bit. I hope she enjoys it…this is only the first half. The other half is for her birthday.

Merry Christmas ::cackles::

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It was a normal day, like any other day--the birds were chirping in high octave noises like nails on a chalkboard, the dogs were yipping like psychotic mongrels in heat, the sky was a blinding azure that made one's pupils burn. The ground was covered with tar-like mud that now also covered the bottom of his pants, coating his legs with sticky, brown darkness, his sandals in similar fashion slipping over the slick sludge. Everything was too bright, his clothes felt dirty, his hair was greasy, and he felt like he was coming down with something. Today was a shitty day--it was a normal day. And Naruto wished he had never crawled out of bed to experience the oh-so-familiar normalness.

His head was thumping like some tribal baseline, roaring and screaming and beating into and on his eardrums. Pressing a shaking hand to his forehead, he groaned, wondering why he had been summoned by Kakashi so early in the morning. Today--like everyday--he was supposed to train with Jiraiya and do all sorts of strenuous things in order to one day kick Sasuke's ass. It just didn't make sense to him, not like that many things adults decided did, that he should have to work his hands till they bled, joints till they felt like they would snap, muscles still burned, in order to administer judgment and justice on his once-best friend. Life is screwed, he nodded to himself decidedly.

He kicked the muddy ground idly, as though projecting his rather strong distaste for, well, anything today, onto the slimy path. In the back of his mind, he knew the mud wasn't responsible for anything but the grime on his cuffs. But his pants had just been washed, damnit! It was the principle of the thing. Oh God, he sighed to himself, stuffing his hands into his pockets. I'm emo.

Maybe he should just give up the entire "ninja thing"--chicks were more into the whole "guy with a guitar and sob-story" act. Not that he really was interested in chicks...but that was another issue altogether, one he didn't feel like getting into on a fantastic day like today. Just think of it! he grinned to himself, picking up his pace as his mind raced. I could tour all of the hidden cities with my glasses and my guitar, talking about the one that got away. Of course...everyone who knows me will think it's Sasuke...and I don't want them to know I'm gay. THINK! THINK I'M GAY! Ah, the mind of a ninja.

The thick and heady smell of soy, miso, noodles, and other ramen-esque scents assailed his nostrils. His blue eyes softened, looking at the building longingly, all thoughts of a music-career abandoned as he stared at Ichiraku, willing it to explode and rain ramen. Some boys have wet dreams--he had miso dreams. Licking his lips he trotted over to the restaurant, only to find he had no money in his pockets. Brilliant--another normal day.

He hadn't been exactly told to leave the stand, but he knew he wouldn't do them any business by hanging around. Not that many people want to eat a bowl of noodles with a demonically possessed failure ninja after all. Yes, yes, emo!Naruto, he spat on the ground, inwardly kicking himself. It had already been four months since he had returned Sasuke-less, and no one held him personally accountable. No one but himself.

That's probably one of the most basic principles in Emoism, really. It's your own fault for everything, even if you couldn't have done a thing to stop what happened. But Naruto wasn't thinking about Emoism, or ramen, or anything, anymore. He had learned quite a while back the best—the only—way to keep himself from going insane was to not think about anything at all.

Ninja rule 34—never run away from the problem.

Naruto wasn't the best ninja at following the rules.

A heavy thing slammed into the back of his head as he walked, flying over the top of his head after colliding with his skull and landing at his feet. "Ow, bloody fuck!" he snapped quietly, rubbing his head, staring at his feet. Someone had thrown…a really big rock at him. He knelt down, bending over at his stomach, finger extended to poke and prod it. The dirty sphere crumbled against his touch. "Sand…?" he asked, direction his question to no one in particular.

He shook his head, not wanting to ruin his enjoyment of today, continuing towards Team 7's old meeting spot. He had certainly not thought he'd return there, not after Sasuke's whole "attempt to kill him" thing. Teenagers are a troublesome lot, they. And Sasuke was the king—drama queen—of the entire bunch. Anyway, he sighed to himself, it's not always about Sasuke, even if he thought the entire world revolved around his pale pink ass.

How Naruto knew about Sasuke's "pale pink ass," he wasn't going to get into, even with himself. If he did, he would get on a guilt-tripping tangent, and he just didn't feel like he could handle all that nearly-orgasmic fun. So, he pushed the thought from his mind, trying to create that empty, lifeless stillness in his mind that would allow him to cope with, well, everything.

Something about the sand-ball nettled in the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it, and so he shrugged it off, shaking his blonde hair, granules cascading down his shoulders. Naruto remembered the way to the bridge, having learned it from years of practice and repetition. But the clear path he recalled was muddy from yesterday's rains, the children who had been playing grown older and in the Academy or at their parent's shops, varied restaurants and inns that once lined the streets either abandoned or boarded up or still in rubble, having not been rebuilt after Orochimaru's lovely reintroduction of himself to the town.

Reminiscing wasn't really the blonde's thing, but he couldn't really help it, considering he was walking the same road he had taken nearly every day for almost a year. However, he knew things were different—Sasuke was gone, and he wasn't coming back…at least not on the "good guy's" team. Sakura was becoming a Medical Ninja, being schooled beneath Tsunade's watchful bosom…er…eye. And he…well…

He was being taught by Konoha's biggest pervert.

He supposed Kakashi had assembled the pair once more on another mission to monitor their growth. Growth of skill, he thought dismally, knowing he hadn't grown in height more than an inch or two. Growth spurts my ass. He wasn't really sure who the third member was—maybe the Chuunin Shikamaru had become, or maybe another Gennin. He hoped it wasn't Ino—one man could only stand so much unspoken lesbian tension, after all.

He was nearing the red bridge over the water, his former sensei's tiki-torch like hair sticking straight into the air. Sakura was leaning against the railing, badmouthing him and his tardiness, eyes shut and mouth open wide like a catfish. His eyes skimmed along her body and he fought back the laugh that wanted to surface. To say she was still flat as a dish board was too flattering. Dish boards at least have ridges. Not that it technically mattered, he guessed—he had heard she was one of the smartest Medical Ninjas ever. But her chest was really flat.

Kakashi was much the same—gangly, tall, thin—metro-sexual by his own rights, lazy eye glinting as he spied Naruto. He waved the blonde over, and he trotted towards his former comrade and teacher, half-hoping Sasuke would walk up to them and everything would be back to normal. But then he would just be Naruto the Dobe. Now he was Naruto—just Naruto—and he sorta liked it.

The conversation that followed was boring, mundane, and idle, chit-chat of the most taxingly tedious variety. He wanted Sasuke to appear more and more—they'd argue, they'd insult, they'd fight, and possibly fuck, depending on what sort of things Orochimaru was teaching him. But all of those would be a hell of a lot more exciting than Sakura's recount on how she had managed to heal a gutted fish.

"Kakashi?" he groaned, smacking the flat of his palm against his face, the woman's incessant droning finally driving him off the edge. "—sensei," he added quickly. "What are we waiting for? Where's our third man?"

Flicking his fluffy hair as he turned to Naruto, Kakashi sighed. "He's not here yet, obviously. He's not the kind of person to accentuate punctuality. He's…well…you'll remember when you see him."

Yay it was a him—no SakuraxIno flirting—plus! But Naruto wasn't having the best day, his clothes were still very much dirty, and he wanted to do the mission, go home, and listen to his music. Dashboard Confessional. Chris Carraba was the ONLY one who understood.

"I don't see why we have to have another man on the mission—we can handle it now, Kakashi-sensei," Sakura chirped, smoothing her dress. Naruto could have sworn she looked to his cuffs and sneered, but he didn't care if she found the dirtiness disgusting. At least she wasn't feeling the cool, wet, grit against her shaved legs. "I know that I've gotten a lot stronger with my chakra, and I'm sure Naruto's…done something in the past few months."

"I've gotten stronger, too," he muttered under his voice. Bitch. Sure, she might have gotten four inches taller in the same number of months, but he'd been doing all the growing with his chakra control. Forming the Rasengan was a hell of a lot simpler than it ever had been, and he knew he could deal with the type of Recon Mission Kakashi's summon had indicated they would be on.

"Lovely," Kakashi purred, fixating his gaze in the distance. Naruto followed his line of sight, and he realized he wasn't half sure Kakashi was referring to Sakura's words. He knew he sure as hell wouldn't have been talking about Sakura—or anyone—if he had been the first to notice the young man walking towards them.

Lovely—gorgeous, sexy, beautiful, frightening—was an understatement. Perfect was just barely scraping at it, but the word didn't really do him justice. Licking his lips, Naruto wondered if HE could do him. Justice. Do him justice.

He knew that hair, knew the particularly brilliant sheen of crimson, would have known it had his eyes not been functioning. That green gaze bore into his soul, snatching it in manicured fingers, clasping onto it and squeezing until he thought his chest would explode. Boyish features were beginning to morph into the harsh, rough angles and slopes of a masculine face. Wow, Naruto thought, jaw dropping. Gaara got sexy.

Sakura and Kakashi must have both been having similar thoughts, but there was no way in hell he was going to take his eyes off the redhead to look at them. Nothing was, nothing had been, but him and Gaara. And his muddy pant-cuffs. Today just started looking better—erotic, even.

"Hey," the Sand-nin said, tilting his head and looking down his nose at the others. Naruto's stomach flip-flopped as his heart felt pierced by a dagger, staring up at the other young man. Even Gaara had grown considerably taller in the months that had passed, towering over the blonde as he walked up to Naruto. "What's up, Naruto?" he asked, grinning seductively at the whiskered boy.

Is it really legal to use seduction as a weapon on your own teammates? Gaara had apparently developed his own form of Orioke no jutsu and was using it right now. Naruto coughed, looking away, down at his feet, kicking the ground. "I got my pants dirty," he mumbled quietly.

"So, take them off." His blue eyes flitted back to Gaara's face. Behind him he could hear fangirly laughter—both from Sakura and his sensei. Fangirls. Ugh.

Blushing profusely, he parted his lips, hands entwining themselves in his jacket, fingering the folds. "T—take them off?" he stuttered. "B-but…then I'll be almost naked!"

Gaara's aqua gaze moved up and down the boy's body appraisingly, and he smirked at Naruto, eyes glinting. "Yeah. I know."

"Hate to break this up," Kakashi said, stepping between them, saving Naruto from any…arising problems. The Jounin smiled at Gaara apologetically, and Naruto wondered if the man wished he were a bit younger, in the hopes anything between them wouldn't be considered shota. "But we do need to get this mission done, before you and I are too old to retrieve anything." Resting his hand on the redhead's shoulder, he continued, "It's not that difficult a mission, but someone has to do it."

Glancing at the hand, lip curling slightly, Gaara nodded. "The Hokage told me I was going to participate in a reconnaissance mission. I'm bored, might as well." Shrugging off the hand, he stepped closer to Naruto, slinging an arm over the blonde's shoulder. "Besides, I want to be there if Naruto needs a hand…with anything," he added, whispering hotly into the boy's ear.

Wondering just what "anything" included, Naruto tried to wriggle out of Gaara's grasp. But it was no use—he was a prisoner to a boy in fishnet. Buckles and straps pressed against his spine, as well as other things, but he didn't really think on what they all might individually be. Especially what he hoped to be a marker in the back of his thigh.

"Alright, listen up." Kakashi had slipped back into sensei-mode, moving so he could see the three people in his team clearly. He leaned against the railing, peering at them with his single eye. "We've got to scour the area and see if there's been any abnormal activity around Konoha. Gaara, stop biting Naruto's ear."

The redhead halted, glaring at the Jounin. "But I skipped breakfast…" he whined. "And Naruto's ear is good." To prove his point, he bit down, eyes never leaving the sensei's face. "Plus, he likes it."

Naruto flushed a rosy hue of pink, looking down at his toes. Wasn't his fault he couldn't move away. He was only blushing because of the sudden attention—nothing more. It was not because Gaara was licking and sucking his ear and face. Not at all.

"Yes, I can see that." Kakashi shook his head, rubbing his temples in small circles. Kids these days were so taxing, what with their raging hormones. "Just to keep from having any…distractions…I'm going to go with you, Gaara, and Naruto and Sakura are also pairing up."

"No, they're not," Gaara snapped, tightening his hold on Naruto's chest. Air was so overrated—and definitely when there was a hot-as-fire redhead chewing on your face. Gaara bit along the ridge of the blonde's ear, softly blowing the blonde wisps away from the flesh he devoured. "Naruto's going to be with me." A tendril of sand drifted lazily from the uncorked gourd on his back, straightening to a fine point.

Not wanting to screw with Naruto's screwer, Kakashi nodded, turning to Sakura. "Okay, then. Naruto and Gaara will check out the forest, and you and I will do the same thing." He turned back to the red and blonde boys, rolling his eyes. "Meet us back here at sunset."

Kakashi turned on his heels, Sakura staring at Gaara and Naruto for a moment longer, eyes lingering on Gaara's tongue as he lapped at the boy's cheek. Sighing, she chased after Kakashi, catching up with him and glancing over her shoulder. "Kakashi-sensei…they're not going to do anything…"

"Oh, they're going to do something."

She groaned, pink hair blowing in a sudden gust of cool air. "Yeah…each other."