Ch. 6

Akiko's ignorable comments: Gaara considered a lot of stuff in this chapter… and I'm too annoyingly dependant to the word 'that'…I hate that—it! Whatever… I think this one doesn't have too many mistakes.

Well- I did say this was though as last chapter's other half. But this one ended up having more that 7,000 words. I guess I have too much to say or I ramble too much for my own sleep hours' sake. Just don't get bored! :grin:

Why. Just why.

Did Gaara have anything against him? Had he say or done something to bother him? He was almost sure he had not.

Then why did he decide to do it? To phone Naruto last Friday's night and ask him to come over to his place? After dropping his disturbing relations between facts involving him and the blond midget, it was a backstabber's doing to force him to spend one day of his weekend near Naruto. Of course, he could have rejected the idea and stayed at home reading or something—but, after all, he'd never been inside Gaara's house. Still his treacherous act was unforgivable.

He took a glance, mostly out of his new habit, at the figure besides him. Lately he'd gotten used to take no notice of these warnings that'd been resonating in his brain, because after a lot of thinking he was starting to ponder about their uselessness so he'd concluded they had not real foundation—probably, so he did just that.

His eyes darted to him, examining his locks, being all spiky and defying gravity, then they lowered to his face and those captivating scars, three on each side. Their existence was perturbing and his inward queries about why they'd got there in the first place debated silently; this wasn't enough to divert his sigh from his hideous tee though.

Tired of his own attitude, he sighed through his nose and deflected his eyes to the pavement, taking more notice of the sound surrounding him—well, there were other noises, but only one managed getting to the point of absorbing any other in its total obnoxiousness.

Naruto's chatter managed to amuse him one more time, considering how long he'd been talking and how the air insufficiency –due to maybe too long sentences- was affecting his coherence—or so he thought; he wasn't really listening at all. He just didn't want to hear about the beach, his father being all stubborn, burnt broccoli, Sakura-chan (ugh, he'd cringed at that one), the Chemistry Teacher, Kiba the biggest Idiot on Earth, Shikamaru's head resembling a pineapple, Temari and primary colors—and oh some many more random topics. He just wasn't listening… much.

He squinted, trying not to focus too much on Naruto—his awfully orange tee was blinding him and he hissed, rubbing his eyes, a gesture that Naruto most likely hadn't notice since he was so into having a white ferret someday. Stupid.

Sasuke would never say this out loud but Gaara's comment had affected him in several ways. He'd felt his blood freeze as his brain had processed the information and a crunching ball had formed in his guts. Also, he would never admit this but he'd paid more attention to every conversation they'd shared to discover what the hell could have made Gaara think that. At this point, after the idea Gaara'd pointed out came to bother him, sweeping back in his mind against his intention, he'd decided that it was wrong. He ranted about everyone or anything all the time, equally and Naruto wasn't that special, really

+x_x+

He gazed for the tenth time at the clock. It read 4:37 pm.

He restrained the deep sigh he was about to let out and drummed his nails in the counter some more.

He'd told himself this many times, people tended to be late for most of their appointments. That was their common actions. However, this idea started falling apart a quarter of an hour ago—the problem was they were supposed to be here by now, but no, they were already 27 minutes late (almost half an hour)… He didn't know much about social behavior and the so-called elegant delays and such, but Jeez!

He got up from the chair and approached the window—right there, he vaguely remembered his brother telling him he shouldn't peer outside from behind the curtains, he looked like a stalking weirdo and that was scaring their neighbors. However, the memory was blurry and weak, so he tossed it without much reconsideration –also he remembered he hated their neighbors, every one of them. Particularly that American lady, Ms. Thompson who just happened to live across the street- and he approached the window, pulling back slightly the sun-faded side of the red fabric.

He checked three times each direction, though they should come from the left because he discovered it was the closest road to Naruto's house. He still inspected if they were coming from the right, one last time.

"You're not going to believe this," Gaara tried his best to hide it, because the worst thing ever was to show weakness in front to this kind of people but, his big brother had startled him. He didn't yelp at all, but Kankuro most probably had caught a glimpse of him jumping; he was evil like that "your head popping from the window is not going to make them move faster…"

Gaara let go of the curtain. Kankuro's words weren't honored with an acid reply; however it was close from being freed and damage as much as possible the taller teen's too-swollen pride. He opted for releasing his wrath in glares.

He should have told Kankuro he was a prick or a jerk; he should've told him he had horrible taste for clothes and that his make-up was more hideous than shit and he was not capturing nothing with it besides 'He's a freak, don't get near him sweetie!' looks from worried moms. Also, he should have made clear that he was fat—yeah, he was a terrible looking (because no one must ever wear that black and blue shirt with those pant, for god's sake) big pile of—did he see something move outside?

He heard his brother amused cackle and the soft thumps as he left the room.

When he was left alone, he came back to the chair he was on a while ago. Later, he moved to the one next to him when he noticed its cushion was warm after all, despite the entire time he'd been kneeled by the window; they day was supposed to get hotter, according to the weather lady.

By the time the bell rang and echoed through the house, aside from his room, he was engulfed in a fervent fight (of a PS2 game Sasuke'd leant him two month ago) against Yojimbo, pretty much indifferent to the real world and his Aeon would bring damnation upon whomever that dared to disturb him via knocking the door. Considering the self-centered attitude and the underestimating tinge in that voice, it must've been Kankuro.

"Hey baby-bro"

The door roared for Kankuro in response. Said boy considered 'What the fuck do you want?! I'M BUSY!' was the most suitable translation for that.

"Your friends arrived ten minutes ago"

Crap.

He hoped to finish the thing off soon but the deity had been taken too lightly and he was having a hard time—perfect. Now, Yuna was dead.

Somehow he managed to skip the scene and save in the nearest save-point. He pictured Naruto and Sasuke sitting in the brown couch—no, they would be in different ones but not too far away. So instead, Naruto was in the red sofa, his back comfortably supported by the cushions and one leg swinging showing somehow his impatience and Sasuke was in the couch, arms crossed most likely pissed. Now that the game was off, he could hear muffled noises of a conversation.

Something told Gaara, while he rushed down the stairs towards his visitors, to stop right in the middle of his race and examine his reflection in the glass of a family portrait –it was one of those late XIX century style pictures, with the feathers and pompous dresses, taken in sepia tones. Its potential as a mirror exceeded the treasure-able familiar memory intention-. If they'd waited all this time (fifteen minutes at that moment) they could wait some more, he though since his hair was just sticking everywhere and it pleaded to get in place—a need no one in his family actually understood but they let him be.

He only double-checked his tee shirt, it was red and tight, resting with a casual air and carefully folded in the right places; right there, his sixth sense tingled indicating Temari's anime marathon was about to end and there was the growing chance of her appearing in the room to assault Sasuke and Naruto out of pure boredom. He'd discussed the threesome issue with her (the event had been mortifying as expected. Goal achieved there) and he guaranteed she hadn't got a thing of what he'd told her, his words literally got in through one ear and got out from the other, no further pondering on the problem was involved in the process. That coupled with her hyperactivity which followed said marathon was a combination worth of being feared.

His race was resumed and only stopped near the entrance of the living room, because he was pretty sure that looking eager and rushing inside the room was just plain lame.

One hand buried in his slim jean's lateral pocket, slight grin in his face he waited for some kind of welcome or at least complain about his delay—and his expectative crushed against the ongoing situation. Electric blue eyes were directed to nowhere, mouth pouting a bit and his face fixed in a grumpy expression. Sasuke, in a similar way, irradiated annoyance in a ten feet radio. He noted they were so hard trying to ignore the other that it backfired and made their existence's awareness between them twice stronger, which leaded to him being unnoticed and part of the furniture, if he was lucky.

"Bastard"

He sighed and wondered why the heck he'd ended up like this, a mediator in the middle of their endless war. He ruled out gloomy thoughts of being a sideshow in his own life and shrugged, internalizing some sort of acceptance—like with his sister.

"What now?" a tired note in his voice could be detected, not that his so-called friend and his in-process one took notice of this.

He should've known better, though, a question like that was bound to unleash senseless and supposedly hurting pretexts, of how Sasuke was an uptight jerk and Naruto's being a complete inconsistent hypocrite and such.

He gazed at the ceiling, a five second long stare which let out a bit of exasperation. Again, not like the loud and verbally-struggling pair noticed it. He hummed lightly and crossed his arms, then he shut them up because his patience was something probably non-existent and also because, this –despite the laid-back air of it- supposedly was an opportunity to strengthen their friendship—or something. Even if Naruto and Sasuke weren't aware of this, 'their friendship' included him as well.

But honestly, he shouldn't be bothered by it—he'd never cared if someone included him or not in the furniture before (it was happening again, though, with them leering at the other and their death wishes were equally perceptible)… Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had specific expectations for that day's evening and how things were drifting towards a radically different direction. Also, he (Gaara), someone who had never touched a frying pan before and was still pondering about wheat flour properties and uses, dared to enter the kitchen and cook something -- pancakes, actually-- since this was supposed to be somewhat out of the ordinary, breaking the usual routine, meet outside school and he considered being seen as a piece of furniture was pretty frustrating right now.

He blamed it all on the heavy couple therapy environment, mostly and to Kankuro.

That voice, the warning tone in the back of his mind, told him he was over-reacting again. He resumed his mediator actions sitting between them and shut them up once more, severe and ultimatum tone. He repeated his question, glaring at Sasuke when his mouth opened. It told the teen to keep his mind about Naruto to himself.

"Well?" that silence, which was hard to obtain, filled the room when he intended to get some kind of answer, of course "What happened, Naruto?"

Gaara heard him turn around, probably resting himself in the couch's arm. Naruto lowered his voice because he was calmer now and there was small pout creeping behind his tough-guy attitude. Then he spoke.

º3º

The argument was resumed and lasted enough for Gaara to notice the whole thing's futility and proceeded to ignore them for a while.

Before that, he could grasp some ideas and put them together, forming a coherent story, despite the obvious lack of sense.

Apparently, Sasuke hated bright colors because they blinded him and he thought Naruto's tee shirt reflected the light which caused him to hiss, looking all annoyed, according to Naruto and when the other boy revealed the reason behind his hiss, the blonde kid pointed out Sasuke's incapacity to get out of himself and consider that there were other colors besides black and blue, if he hadn't known that. Sasuke compared orange with pink and that liking orange was the same thing as liking pink, then he mentioned certain cheerleader team, but Naruto retorted the idea, defending pink and he carefully added (it seemed that he'd given it a lot of thought), red tongue pressing the back side of his teeth, what he'd hated of that was the concept, the statement those weirdos made with their uniforms.

Gaara took a moment to consider this and to consider asking them about it. Still, he concluded it had to be something related to the pinkness of the cheerleading team uniform—he'd seen Temari wear that awful thing (he involuntary retched when she noticed him gazing her uniform and asked him if he wanted to wear it, since he was gay and all that) an one time was enough to be traumatized and understand Naruto's point.

He remembered Naruto licking his lips, trying to get a grasp of what had Sasuke called him, but he'd had a hard time recognizing the words and he just opened his mouth, half-way of his phrase.

"Inconsistent hypocrite?" Gaara'd offered with no hard feelings, since those words had positively been said at some point of the argument, when he'd been an underling of the coffee table. But somehow he was misunderstood. Naruto'd leered at him and his frown deepened when Sasuke smirked. After that, Gaara proceeded with his judgment of the facts. He was conscious his tone had severely changed to apologetic rather than his former I've-to-deal-with-two-insufferable-blockheads one from before.

Ten minutes and a family size bag of butter cookies later (Curiously, Sasuke and Gaara never had quite enjoyed much those creamy and sweet, but crunchy enough, pieces of heaven and it was fun how quickly they vanished, being an accusatory trail of crumbs the only proof of their existence), this issue was classified as completely stupid and they began a different subject. After checking the sky, Gaara announced that yes, there was sufficient sunlight so Naruto could swim in his pool.

Something suspiciously similar to 'Hell yeah' was heard and five seconds later he and Sasuke found Naruto striping his orange garment in the hallway, near Gaara's room. Sasuke prodded with his toe the suspicious item lying in the carpet. It had lost all its controversial glory.

With an absent-minded shrug he picked the orange thing, intending to give it back to its owner. He crossed the ancient wooden threshold and Sasuke just followed.

Next to the formerly white closet, which had lost all the color after seventeen ten years of childish, pre-pubent and teenage abuse and had acquired a pale yellowish color, coated with disorganized posters; right there, near to this amorphous object (that Gaara liked to call a coat stand) with the blondeness of his head to close to it that it might cause future slight concussions, stood Naruto. With his tee still in Gaara's possession, his bare back was exposed; perfectly tanned, somewhat slim but just enough and with a soft curve some inches beneath his ribcage; the marked line of his back ended in tartan boxer and lower, halfway down jeans stood, supported right in the middle of his ass.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?!"

His eyes whipped back to Naruto's fierce eyes and Gaara couldn't believe he'd been caught checking the blondie's butt and, consequently, his lips opened and closed (like a carp) failing to generate any sort of noise besides stuttering grunts. And while Naruto shoveled him out from his room, alongside Sasuke (he was suspiciously quiet at that moment) he couldn't believe he had been checking him out in the first place.

But this didn't keep Gaara from reacting, even if it was late and the door had already been slammed against his nose.

"You know that even though I'm gay I won't rape you, don't you?" he commented to the door. Half his brain encouraged this pissed off and sarcastic attitude, about three quarters of the other half shouted and pointed out the fact he though Naruto's back was smashing, adding the contradictory element of his behavior, and the remaining quarter of the other half of his brain, decided to take an spectator and attentive posture.

"No, it's not…! It's not about that…" Naruto's voice was kind of hushed by the wood but clear enough to notice he was very close to it "It's just that, uh—never mind. It'll take just a second"

Gaara huffed soundly and inhaled deeply, hand on his hip and eyes rolling.

Then, he noted something shifting uncomfortably at his side. That was when all the antagonistic parts of his brain hushed in perfect synchrony.

Sasuke stood next to him, frowning deeply and gazing down; apparently his sneakers were the best thing to look at and retreating from the door, he rested himself somewhere else after he huffed as he'd done before. His eyes immediately darted somewhere far away from the door.

With that and taking advantage of the other's silence, the observing quarter took the leads of his thoughts and it occurred to Gaara, in a completely unexpected and sudden epiphany –that left him with his mouth round like a circle-, that maybe Naruto hadn't been talking about him (It was kind of sad too, since that meant he'd been ignored again). He was talking about--Sasuke? .

It might have been at that moment when his sixth sense started tingling again. Or perhaps it might have been when Naruto almost emptied his pool with a cannon ball dive and they barely dodged the wave of water with chlorine. The point is that it tingled, not because Temari's threatening existence was in the surroundings, it was in an unusual way. He watched Naruto, laughing and drowning at the same time -due to his first action-, peering to his side to observe Sasuke curse.

And between his own thoughts and swears, this tingling rose and he had an odd premonition—and the strangest was that it made sense, in its own weird way. But of course, this was going to die with him and there was no way he'd manage to stay alive if he said it out loud right there and then, with both of the teens involved present and very able to assassinate.

o(-///-)o

The overwhelming heat had ceased and had dropped to a mild summer-like temperature; the mood had calmed down as well and bit by bit, the situation was getting closer to his ideal scenario. Also, it was rewarding somehow to see Naruto and Sasuke approach a friendly state—their endless struggle was still alive and latent, but in a different way and there wasn't any hurtful attacks. But examining this objectively, hoping for them to disappear was just stupid… That would ruin the thrilling (meaning: laughable and amusing) friends-slash-foes touch in their relationship and that was boring.

It was nearly half past six and the world was glowing again and Gaara thought that being with two friends (he'd assumed that by now Naruto was fully his friend, the process was complete) spending a nice amount of quality time was probably a good thing and that his living room bathed by afternoon's sunshine was a fantastic place to be. He told himself he was overreacting again, having all this cheesy assumptions, but the world felt kind of perfect –not entirely, there were wars, hunger and cheerleader still roaming somewhere- at 6:32 pm, with Naruto telling the lamest joke ever and bare-chested (somehow his orange tee had been thrown to the pool after the 'well-received' splashing session; but this was nothing like revenge), Sasuke praising him in his own unique way for the pancakes and him practicing his not-false-at-all modesty, because really, baking them was a piece of cake and he hadn't hurt his own pride asking annoying big brothers (yes, Kankuro) how to make pancakes.

Everything was fine and according to plan. There had not been mayor mishaps and it truly seemed and felt as it had worked out and life was amazing. Just for a second...

Too bad good things never last long.

"Well, hi my sweeties—and Gaara!" the tone was a tad lower than normal girly voices, yet it had that distinctive ring on it showing it belonged to a female. Three pair of eyes darted towards the source of the noise and it should be appreciated that their timing was perfect and their expression of horror matched "It's nice to see you here!"

Shit—! Fuck no! Make her leave or be swallowed by earth before it's too late!

"Temari. Leave. Now." Also it was sad, besides frustrating, that little brother's power to threaten was powerless and pathetically neglected by older sisters.

"Hey, you blondie…"

The equally powerless and inhibited blond teen licked his lips, tense and cautious, and his fingers fidgeted in the spot where the hem of his tee shirt should've been "Me?"

"No, to the blond besides you…" fortunately, Temari was too busy rolling his eyes to see Naruto almost turn around, stopping himself in the middle of it when he had detected the sarcasm and noticed he and Gaara's sisters where the only blonds there (and that she was most surely not talking about herself) "Of course I'm talking to you, dummy! Listen; let me give you some totally serious advice" Naruto blinked once "Watch your back. I saw those two checking you out a lot two seconds ago. I mean like shameless, devouring stares; but who could blame them with those awesome abs of yours."

Naruto halted, even his breathing stopped for a moment (or so it seemed) when his eyes focused on Sasuke, but his vital functions were resumed and he hurried, twisting to every direction, desperate to find something. Then, he picked the largest cushion he could find and almost stabbed it against his chest, Gaara was surprised it hadn't pierced him. Across him, Sasuke had his elbows propped on their respective knee and his head had plopped over his palms.

"Temari, can I talk to you, like now?" Gaara's jaw was settled and tight as he whispered (or roared, the same thing) to his not really dear sister. At some point, he'd jumped from his seat and grabbed her arm; but at that precise moment, he was in the process of dragging and pushing certain hated someone to the kitchen, despite he'd actually done a question, all her big sister complaints had no effect against his little brother power to ignore.

"Ow—shit! Gaara, let go! It fuckin' hurts!"

He kept his grasp hard in her arm, not really caring if her arm was losing sensitivity or that her veins were about to burst, until they reached the furthest corner in the kitchen and he was strategically positioned, blocking her way to the door and possible escape route. Temari's spat several swears, showing her dexterity at combining them in different order to enhance their potency. Also, they were complemented by those dark glowers and wounding glares that she always used just for him.

Good; the sugar coated devil was finally showing her true face.

"Gaara, what the fuck? What the hell is wrong with you?" she rubbed and petted her sore arm and it had gained a surprisingly bright red color, favored by her paleness.

"I'm sorry, did you ask what's wrong with me?" his green eyes and their distinctive pistachio glint –very much as hers- redirected from idly inspecting his nails, quickly and heavy, towards her "Well, the thing is that I think that question should be directed to you!" his lips were pursed and his arms tensed against his carefully positioned clothes (which weren't reflecting the time spent arranging them any longer) in a way that wasn't scary, but it was close enough to shock Temari "Could you please leave me and my friends live in peace, well friend since thanks to you Naruto would probably never speak to me again, too afraid that I might tackle him into the Janitor's closet when he's not looking!"

First of all, Temari wasn't too fond of being startled, especially by his small brother (both of them), but she was (proud of being) a clever person and she knew she couldn't just shrug it off this time.

"Please don't tell me you're still mad about that threesome thing… I was kidding" she seized her surroundings, still grasping small but intense desires to get out of it with the less emotional involvement "It was. Just. A joke. Comprende?" She propped slowly her body against the cold tiled wall, this gave her preciously sufficient time to discover that yes, his brother had thought this through and she was completely cornered and her only escape routes were the air vent and that old and rusty small window near the roof. Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't use your sarcastic Spanish crap on me! I'm not in the mood!" Actually, he'd never been—but that was a mere technicality (most girls didn't get them anyway) and he had other priorities over explaining this to her "And, yeah. I'm still freaking mad about that threesome thing and I can't believe you thought I'll ever be okay with it!" when he finished, he noticed his heart was racing and his breathing was dangerously shaking "Anyone with two brain cells would get that…! And anyone with one brain cell would now that when someone is trying to make his buddies, male buddies, be not so uncomfortable about his homosexuality you shouldn't make stupid jokes about gay orgies including them—!" he gave himself a second to recover and inhale harshly "—because that's just fucking EVIL!"

Secondly, Temari was not too fond of being left speechless, especially from Gaara. However, there wasn't much her mind could do since she was—well, speechless.

When her eyes lowered though, her voice and words came back to her.

"You're overreacting"

"What?! How can yo—I can't… You know what? This is pointless. You'll never get it." His voice dropped a few decibels, gradually until he was whispering to the floor.

Temari though this settled it and proceeded to leave, but right there, when she had already passed him, Gaara said something that had an amazing power to make her halt and be speechless again. And the timing, their position and everything coincided magically, like in one of those tear-jerking drama movies.

"The saddest thing of all this is I really thought you would get it. My biggest relief before I—came out… was that I really thought that because you liked yaoi so much, you'll make everything better and be… supportive; make what'll come next less of an inferno"

But she hadn't.

She could picture it -although it was pretty blurry- the camera facing Gaara emotionless expression as he talked and then, at the end of his speech, it focused in her face because they shouldn't miss any trace of her pathetic and guilty reaction; just like in a movie.

She'd made it all worse…

Gaara never actually finished, in fact he didn't need to, though. His statement was floating in the air and she nearly choked with it—but that was her breathing being shaky.

The silence was filled by muffled chatting noises coming from the other room.

At least but not the least, Temari wasn't fond of showing any kind of affection, especially when it involved a member of their family (but this was the only common denominator between them) and she had a strict no-hugs policy. Still, she silently approached and laced her arms around Gaara; this was her own way to apologize.

"You know what? I'm gonna be very busy, so probably you won't see me until nine" her arms had returned to hang limp against her body and she backed a bit "And I promise to make this a reality and behave from now on…" Gaara's depressed face seemed to cheer up from behind "But—you must do a little tiny favor for me!" his shoulder stiffened, tired acceptance was let out in a sigh that lifted and dropped them a few inches "Well, someone that I'm interested in is coming here today… to study algebra or something and I though it'll be polite to have something delicious to give him when he arrives and—would you go to the convenience store and get me some bonbons… Filled with sugar-less strawberry deliciousness? Those ones with a blue rose in the logo?"

"Yeah, why not?—but you pay for them"

"Fifty-fifty" she was a bit low in cash after a mad Saturday of manga shopping.

"Eighty-twenty, you and me respectively and that's my last offer."

"Fine! But you better come back with those and no others or you pay for everything."

With the understanding and the errands said, also with a lifetime's worth of emotional involvement she walked around the house, stopping in front of the door with a Junjou Romantica poster. Once inside, her body falling messed with the coverlet, wrinkling it everywhere. Fuck, she was so worn out.

o(=_=')o

After Gaara dived in the kitchen with the Devil with four piggy tails, an awkward tension intoxicated the air. It didn't feel as horrible as the other times though. One of them pondered it was because they were getting used to feel exposed. The other though it was because they were out from school, away and protected from Ino and her diabolic rumor-spreaders; either way, they didn't feel so uncomfortable and, besides the fact that it was kind nice to feel less bad, on the other hand, it was kind of disrupting. But no one gave too much thought to this.

Naruto, for example, was so fantastically ignoring it that he had time to wonder. He was thankful too; he was still very capable of formulation words, sentences—questions, for that matter, and he had an increasing amount of them.

"What the fuck did she mean?" it wasn't an elaborated question, but it was clear enough and represented his emotions at the same time. Of course, he completed it with a frown.

"Holy fuck, Naruto. She's a fangirl…and from that genre. You can't just believe what she says." Sasuke got up from his chair and let himself fall next to the blond, picking one of the pockys Naruto was monopolizing.

"True" he leaned forward to grab a crunchy chocolate-covered stick too and used this instance to move the box away from Sasuke and therefore, closer to him. "That means you weren't—?"

"I wasn't"

"And that you aren't ga—?"

"I'm not"

"Good." He bit the head, where the chocolate had concentrated, forming a tempting brown knob. With no means to take this conversation further, not that he wanted (and he was sure Sasuke wouldn't like that either), he formulated another question, "So, what have you been doing lately?"

"Not much—I was forced to go to buy a new set of towels with my mom, I was threatened by Kabuto twice…" his exasperated face made Naruto grin (he almost regretted moving the pockys away. Almost). Kabuto and his gang were such a bunch of idiots. "Also some random girl gave me this exceptionally corny letter, Haruno stalked me again, and I finished my new book and I didn't forget to have a dull week. That's about it. You?"

"Something like that, despite the fact that I don't get corny letters from random girls and Sakura-chan didn't stalk me." He made sure to add a noticeable bitter tinge to his words.

"Probably it was the other way around." the protesting reaction from Naruto echoed through the room; Sasuke couldn't say he wasn't expecting or that he didn't enjoy this— it was kind of funny "I can't see what you like of her…"

"Like about everything?" that question/answer was suitably ambiguous for Sasuke to rise a single brow, pointing to Naruto that he still didn't get what could he possibly make him adore the dirt she walked over. On his side, Naruto sighed in disbelief and proceeded to precise his point and make it clear for him "Well—there's something about her that just glows, you know?"

"Not really"

"It's just that her smile is so bright and honest… and her hair really fascinates me to no end" Naruto stood still for about eight seconds in an auto-induced fantasy about green eyed girls with pink hair.

Sasuke cautiously inspected his goofy grin to calculate which level of annoyance he could get from him if he burst it. It was truly promising "It's probably fake."

Watch Naruto's eyes dart back violently to reality was quite a show and this was the real fascinating thing; his blue eyes round at first only to become beaming azure slits, a frown settling in his features and his lips pursed.

"It's not fake! It's pure and natural!"

"You talk like you know."

"I do. She told me." Naruto stated this proudly, half of a pocky sticking out from his mouth and oscillating up and down as he spoke.

"Why?" Sasuke noticed he'd been slipping down, quietly, bit by bit, and now the part at which his back ended and his ass began was located at the edge of the couch. Naruto was in a similar position, but had one foot casually propped in the coffee table.

"I asked" Naruto crossed his right arm over his bare chest and leaned to his left to face Sasuke. The pocky (less than half was intact by this point) nearly brushing his cheek.

Meanwhile, Sasuke wasn't sure if to call Naruto 'brave' or 'the biggest idiot ever'; he was leaning for the seconds, but didn't say a thing and let the blond continue.

"I asked her and she told me it was natural"

"Don't you mean 'she yelled it at me with an ungodly and creepy dragon-lady like roar' or something like that?"

"No—well, yes. But that's not the point."

"She punched you, didn't she?" he used his as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

Naruto simply rubbed the lower area of his abdomen because, as a matter of fact, she had punched him and very hard; Sasuke still didn't get why he liked her.

Something was about to be added, but a loud growl, kind of terrifying stopped all that. Nothing was very clear, but the word 'Evil' had been easily identified. Nothing was commented about it, though. After all, it was none of their business.

"So—what else have you been doing?" Sasuke figured it was his turn to start a conversation.

"Let me see… I've been ignoring Kiba's attempts to apologize and now, I and Shikamaru started to eat lunch with Chouji…" the last tad of the snack disappeared and Naruto lazily licked his lips, frowning when he'd mentioned Kiba. Both of his arms were crossed against his tanned chest.

"Cool." What a boring reply, but what else could he say? 'Hey Naruto, lunch hour is the most boring thing ever since it's just me and Gaara. Eat with us again, please'? Not in a million years. One of his hands rested peacefully over his belly, his right hand was over the couch.

"Aww—don't tell me you're jealous of Chouji" he playfully mocked him and worn out his patience.

"I'm not jealous…"

"I see. You're in denial. Don't worry man" There was a smirk inevitably curving his lips, he could hear it in his singsong tone. "Seeing that I'm overly needed over there, I think I might drop in sometime… Maybe, you two could come over with us and we can eat always together—" and maybe, it'd be nice. The more the merrier, they say. Naruto stared longingly at a random nonexistence point of the universe, too lost in his own thoughts to actually see anything.

But Sasuke new better, he could read between lines and that's why it came clear to him.

"Hey dobe, you don't need to make up excuses to be with us."

It was a simple phrase; it shouldn't have been a big deal. But it was; those words put in that order and said out loud held something resembling a meaning hidden in their core to Naruto, or so it seemed. Or they wouldn't have toned down his smile, his body squirming over the large fluffy cushions to loll and put all his weight on his side, to get a better look of Sasuke's face. If they hadn't meant something, he wouldn't have thrown that perplexed look.

Naruto was on his side, being puzzled, so maybe that was the reason he gave in and stopped paying attention to his limbs. That was why one of his hands slipped and Sasuke was so close it couldn't be avoided at this point—

It was an innocent touch and it shouldn't have meant a thing, pretty much like Sasuke's words just shouldn't have as well. But it did; all of them did and boys panicked so easily.

Both hands where jerked back to their owners because that soft touch of index and thumb that was supposed to mean nothing had surely made said fingers tingle and feeling was spreading on its own accord.

(But it had probably been that they'd charged and became two livings ions, eager to exchange electrons—those damned silky and fluffy cushions!)

Nonetheless, this little theory hadn't spent too much time in their minds to become believable when Gaara came in. So, when he asked them if they wanted to join him in his small trip to the convenience store, they just agreed, not totally focused on where they were going, but they needed the distraction.

Gaara wasn't the only one who tended to overreact.

Naruto got up trying to be nonchalant, but his muscles were in a strange combination of sluggish and eagerness—simulate to be stretching was his amazing and effective disguise of his legs inept bending.

He measured his distance between Sasuke and his hands; looking elsewhere was a must (which was kind of hard, since he was paying a lot of attention to Sasuke's position and intending to stare at the ceiling meanwhile—but not too much). Busy with this, he bumped in a wall and after that, there was little click indicating the door was open. Faintly, as he inspect his contusion, he wandered why no one was moving; the door was open and a gentle breeze was caressing his bare back (he needed to get back his tee…), he looked up and in the entrance there was a pineapple.

Well, not actually a pineapple, but its representation… in a hairstyle—Shikamaru's brown and fruit-like hairstyle. His hand traced casually the back of his head, absolutely oblivious that someone besides Gaara was watching him.

"Hey, it's Temari he—re…?" his entire person cringed slightly and Naruto sensed his vast possibilities and the situation's potential to mock and it was beautiful "N-Naruto? (And Sasuke too?) What're you doing here?"

"Visiting a friend… and you?" Naruto was very busy torturing Shikamaru, but certain redhead dazzled his mom's favorite rubber plant with his hopeful and shinning eyes (He'd been called friend! Yay!— the girliness of the internal yell was just a small tiny, ignorable detail)

"Er—uh, I think I got the wrong directio—"

"Shika-shika! You're finally here! What took you so long?"

"Ugh—hi" his unsettled face was terrible, something to take seriously, so Naruto didn't laugh—much. Well, he almost exploded "Why god? Why you made her with such a bad timing?" he murmured resigned to his fate.

Probably Gaara enjoyed the presence of the diversion for her sister more than anyone.

Naruto noted, when Temari laced their hands to guide the poor algebra mate/prisoner somewhere, that there was a soft smile waving her lips, nothing like the other full of creepy fangirly-ness excitement, and maybe there was hint of joy in her eyes.

His profound analysis didn't prevent him to cackle until his friend's shadows vanished in the depths of the house and his desperation.

6_6

The dirt swirled around Naruto's jeans, tiny specs floating and then, resting unwanted over his shoe when he moved it forward. It was a pitiful way of distracting himself.

Ten minutes ago, Gaara had gone inside the shop. The name of it was unreadable but the discolored plastic sign had been of a bright cherry red once—or so Gaara said. The merchandise was neatly ordered -alphabetically and by colors- behind the shop window Naruto was leaning on, staining his blurry reflection with a mix of gray and many happy candy tones.

He slowly moistened his lips— they were a bit dry and about to split. There was something disturbing him too, and that feeling bothered to creep all the way from his belly to his throat to show him that he wanted—no, he needed to say something. But this urgency was making him far more nervous than what he thought was required.

"Sasuke…?" he started with a whisper and a quiet tone to create a non-aggressive situation and that never worked with Sasuke anyway.

"What?" he noted his voice sounded lethargic; he was falling in the late-summer's evening drowsiness.

"You know, I've been thinking about…something." Sasuke's silence was encouraging him to carry on, but this didn't feel such a great idea anymore. He frowned at the world when the disturbing lump climbed his esophagus once more, burning it this time; direct and clear warning that he should keep talking, dammit! "I've been thinking about all the stuff that has happened between us."

"What do you mean?" Sasuke tapped the frontal part of his right heel in the concrete. Most of him was aware of his phony effort to pretend he was free of those memories engraved somewhere inside his head and he also was aware Naruto knew it.

"I mean what just happened at Gaara's place and—" this was the worst time for his squeaky voice to brake. He mentally prepared his vocal cords to say the following and to (for Christ's sake) behave, no more high-pitched disgraces, please. "—and the kiss—kisses, both of them"

"Stop right there! It wasn't, I repeat, It was not a kiss. Those weren't kisses!" he halted and relaxed his scowl, eyes lost and roasting like they should when one stares at the sun, to add "Those where accidental, slight, unplanned and unwanted almost non-existent lips brushes. That's all. Meaning: mere accidents. You said that yourself"

"Whatever, accidents or not I think we should, maybe, talk about them"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"They didn't mean a thing. Why talk about meaningless and random accidents?" Sasuke devoted 0.01 seconds for Naruto's open mouth ready to retort and subsequently he interrupted his action "The answer you're looking for in no, there's no need."

"So we just don't discuss this, right?" almost at the limit of his visual field, the taller teen nodded once "and we ignore them too?" another undeniable and determining nod. "Fine…"

"Good"

He struggled to convince his annoying urges this was for the best, that Sasuke had a strong point. He really tried, but the disturbance opted to sink and nest somewhere below his stomach, heavy and accompanied with inane disappointment.

But in all honesty, there were many uncomfortable issues to muse of –like homework, crazy fangirls and torturing cheerleaders- and they had a lot of time. What was the rush? That was what his brain told the lump anyway.

Half of a minute later, the inner door bell chimed signalizing Gaara'd come out in a hurrying redhead and chocolate box mess. He resembled a bunny struck by anti-mist car light with his eyes lost and blank, cheeks blushing into unexpected pink. Naruto nudged Sasuke, sharing their common moment of awkward inquiry. A hand was waved on front of the green and delineated roundness's.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Dunno—and his face is all red"

Curiosity alerted Naruto that he might find something interesting if he inspected the shop, he bit his tongue and turned around.

And he saw it, besides the dusty window, a long brown hair, impossibly lilac eyes and that authoritarian air which pointed out that he didn't belong there: Neji Hyuuga. The reasons why the smug sophomore, son of the richest people in town, the billionare with superiority-complex was attending a candy store were hazy.

"Woa, it's Neji!" Naruto trampled and plastered his face in the glass.

"Neji Hyuuga? Really? Didn't you confuse him with someone else?" the pebbles lying scattered in the floor crunched under his weight. He placed both hands in the glass, his face remaining at a proper distance.

"No, I'm positive! It's him."

Meanwhile, Gaara gaped still in his own tiny world.

"But isn't he supposed to be like shamelessly rich?" Sasuke looked to his side and a few inches down, at his eyes. The intense blue mixed with the sunset formed a brilliant violet tone.

"Yes he is…"

"That's something you don't see every day…"

"Yeah"

"I heard they own a heliport."

"Not really, they wanted to build one but his mom opposed to cut a part of the woods in their residence…" Sasuke had that 'How do you know that?' stare, but he opted for silence and shrug and it said bluntly 'I don't want to talk about it'.

When the excitement at the flashy news drowned off, there was finally a time to afternoon noises to be listened; several, but stifled traffic sounds, the electrical buzz on the streetlight turning on, stealthy footsteps which sounded amazingly like Gaara running away, leaving them musing the reasons and possibilities of Neji—wait.

They turned around to chase down Gaara darkening figure.

The only thing the boy in question gave as an explanation was a mumbled 'Don't you think it's like too hot right now?'… Not a fitting explanation and Naruto had to bite back his own shivers to not contradict him. It was summer, but the night's always had that chilling charm that frost his bones… He missed his brown hoodie.

9_9

"Maybe he trampled over a shelf and made huge mess…" his index was positioned over his chin and he taped it.

"No, we would've heard that… Honestly."

"Okay, okay—I know!" the smaller teenager stood in front of the taller one, hands open and anxious to explain his new (probably ridiculous) theory "He was caught shop-lifting!"

"What?" the other boy kept moving, pale hand hiding his face "Gaara, shop-lifting. Seriously?"

Sasuke paused just enough to grunt, making a double effort at hiding his face—his lips and the fact that he was smiling, this close to laugh. But he didn't want to get stared at again by intense blue eyes, evidencing that he was so out of character.

"Then what do you suggest?" pouting to his empty left-hand side, eyes glinting because they were getting near a street light (The night's fall had caught them in the middle of their trip. His dad was going to kill him for coming home this late or worse! He could annul his rights over the TV and this was linked to his videogames permissions-- as in 2007 summer. That had been a vile act). Unconsciously, his pace hasted.

"Anything but that."

"What the—freaking bastard!" Naruto chuckled somewhat bothered and mock-pushed him away with his elbow. It was too cold to expose his hands and leave them at the mercy of the absence of heat.

They reached the corner faster than expected. It kind of felt they almost crashed against the gray wall. They shared mutual farewells and they were supposed to part in that moment. His lump of discomfort also was supposed to be resting inactive and momentarily under control, but it just wasn't.

Lately, a lot of assumption that were void to happen (supposedly), hadn't. However, that's the funny thing about suppositions: they could or couldn't come true. He left out a chocked noise and it was a lot lauder, unintentional and painfully squeaky than how he'd planned it. Sasuke reacted to it and didn't budge, scrutinizing his features.

Forced by hazy haunting memories, they shared one last and equally confused glare that wasn't supposed to happen and it sucked that it had a lot more meaning that expected. It was like all the recent events, the ones that were supposed to be buried deep and away, were unleashed to bother them.

Their shared moment lingered two more seconds and it was cut by Sasuke, who left first. Naruto soon did the same.

His blond head blamed the corner for all this awkward shit edging romanticism (Ugh)—it was most possibly cursed…by Ino.

I'm sorry lately I've been writing too much about Gaara. (I can't help it. I love his browless grief-stricken existence)

Congrats to you if you read the whole thing and a shinny medal if you enjoyed it.

Atte,

Akiko Fujishima, former zombie.

P.S: This was due last week, but things happened. It was finished at Monday 12th, 2:34 am and that's technically still Sunday. Then, I revised it one time and it sucked a bit and it lacked a lot of things. I had to fix it properly.

P.P.S: Thanks to all the amazing people who favorited this story. =3