GaaHina

I sighed, stirring my drink absently with a straw. I want to go home. This bar smells like cigarettes, and it's way too loud. There are a million places I'd rather be right now, mainly in bed, asleep. The only reason I'm here is because Kiba's meeting his online boyfriend for the first time tonight, and he didn't want to come alone, just in case.

Back home in Konoha, he got beaten to a pulp by some guys when they found out he was gay. That was when we were both nineteen. We're twenty-five now, and the poor guy's still traumatized to the point that he doesn't trust anyone except for me and Shino. Since Shino couldn't get time off from work, that left me. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to support Kiba like this. I just fail to see what I can do to help if things go awry.

"Hey, Hina," Kiba suddenly whispers behind me. I turn to see him blushing and grinning wolfishly. He sheepishly rubs the back of his head and says, "Things are going pretty well. I think I'll go home with him. Can you make it back to the hotel? I can walk you real quick if you want."

A grin tugged at my lips. He looks so relieved and happy. The tall tan guy with the undercut Kiba has been playing pool and drinking with all night is watching us, obviously waiting for him to return.

I shake my head, lifting my drink slightly, "Don't worry about me. Have a good time. Call if something happens, okay? Text me the address when you get there." Neither of us is from Suna, so we aren't sure how accepting its citizens are of non-heterosexuality. It's better to be safe than sorry.

The man pats my head appreciatively. "You're the best," he says, pausing after turning to leave, "Seriously, Hina. Thank you."

I watched him return to his boyfriend, who shot me a slight wave when he noticed. I shyly returned the gesture before facing the bar again. The guy seems nice enough. Hopefully, looks aren't as deceiving here as they are at home.

Sighing again, I sipped my drink with a frown. If it weren't so hot here, I'd honestly think about putting in a transfer request at work and moving to Suna. We arrived here early this morning and did some sightseeing. All day, the people we encountered were beyond kind. The culture and architecture are unique and exciting. It's a place like nothing I've seen before.

The bartender comes around to offer a refill, and I accept, shooting a weak glare at a middle-aged man who was making his way over to talk to me from the other side of the bar. He's been staring for over an hour already.

Stay away. Just let me wallow in my self-pity in peace.

I, Hinata Hyuga, was dumped. It happened six months ago, but it hurts like it was yesterday.

Naruto and I began dating in our last year of high school together. I thought he was going to propose that night, but it turns out he'd asked me to come home early for dinner to let me know that he'd been having an affair with Sakura. As he desperately tried to rationalize his actions, he explained that she was brokenhearted after Sasuke broke up with her and moved away. He said he got drunk with her, and they hooked up. That's apparently when he realized what he was missing in our unfulfilling relationship.

Boring.

He called me a boring girlfriend. I was too bewildered to ask if he meant my personality or my performance in the bedroom. Honestly, I'm not sure which would hurt me more.

Back then, I was utterly destroyed. Now, I'm just angry at Naruto and myself. I'm also mad at Sakura because she was supposed to be my best female friend. If Naruto believed I was boring, he should've broken up with me long before then, not waited until he betrayed me like that.

I can't be angry at either of them for falling in love. How could I? The heart wants what it wants. I can be mad that neither of them talked to me, tried to do things civilly, or even acknowledged my existence. They just swept the rug from under me and watched as I stumbled and fell.

More than them, I hate myself for not seeing it coming. How dare I be surprised when Naruto and I would only see one another an hour or two daily even though we lived together. Most of the time, that hour would be spent in the bedroom, and then we'd go to sleep. We weren't staying up late talking about anything and everything like we used to. We'd stopped making time to be together like we had in the first few years of our relationship.

And I hate myself because I still can't hate them. They're my treasured friends I've known since childhood, even if we're no longer on speaking terms. I love them but am too bitter to wish the couple well. It's up to the fates how the rest of their lives play out. If karma comes around to make them regret their actions, then I'll be there to watch with my mouth shut.

I'm a fool. Here I am, days of travel away from my hometown, drunk and pouting in a bar alone when I should be standing up for myself. It's because I realized recently that if I'd really loved Naruto, I'd have fought for him even though he cheated. I didn't, though. I dejectedly moved into my own apartment and continued with my life.

So this is what it feels like to look back and realize you've wasted almost seven years of your life on something that'll never bear the fruit of your labor.

"Miss, we're closing up. Do you want me to call you a cab?" I blinked, drunkenly lifting my gaze from my empty glass to the bartender, who offered a pitying smile that said he had an idea of why I'd drunk my weight in alcohol. It made me want to cry, but I didn't. Instead, I shook my head, paid for my tab, and stumbled out of the empty bar. It felt like I'd sat there for maybe an hour after Kiba said goodbye, but more than three had passed.

I almost made it back to the hotel without incident, which is something I take pride in, given how drunk I was. Just as the building came into view, a massive wave of nausea washed over me. My throat tightened, and my face got hot, so I knew I'd be sick. Groaning, I stumbled into the nearest alley.

With a hand on the stone wall, I breathed heavily and waited for it to happen. It didn't; for some reason, that did me in.

Tears flooded my cheeks, and my knees buckled, hitting the ground. An odd sound met my ears, distracting me from my angst. My spine straightened, and I looked further down the alley to see something moving in the shadows.

The sound came again.

Is that…Is someone getting mugged down there? It sounds like people punching one another.

Drunk and stupid, I struggled to my feet and slowly got closer with squinted eyes to try and see through the dark shadows. All the while, the awful sounds continued. Ever so faintly, I finally made out the shapes of two men. One was against the wall, shoved there by the other, who still held a handful of their shirt.

"...Hey…stop…." I mumbled as the person against the wall tried to shove the other away. Neither appeared to hear me.

Anger flooded my veins because I wasn't thinking rationally. Huffing, I dug through my purse for the taser Kiba bought me to protect myself in the event we were separated tonight. Holding it tightly, I stumbled forward and spoke more firmly, "I said stop, or I'll call the cops!"

Both men froze before turning to look my way. Then, the one holding the other against the wall sprinted down the alley in the opposite direction. My mouth opened in disbelief, only for the remaining man to lean heavily against the wall with an arm around his middle.

Nervously, I crept forward, "Are you alright?" The moment I was close enough to make out some details of the man, he began sliding down the wall toward the ground.

"H-Hey, are you hurt? Can you stand?"

I rushed to catch their arm and fumbled it over my shoulder while wrapping my arm around their waist to keep them hoisted upright. His head was forward, where I couldn't see his face, but he wasn't wholly unconscious because he stumbled along with me when I began moving us toward the end of the alleyway from which I'd come.

Somehow, I got the taser back into my purse, biting under my breath, "Who's boring now, Naruto?" God, I can't hold my liquor. I'll regret this in the morning.

"Let go of me," a low, gravely voice met my ear. I gasped, looking to the side as I continued to move, "You're awake! Where do you live? I'll call you a cab. Or do you want me to send you to the hospital?"

"Just…." his voice was so weak that I thought he'd fainted, but he continued moments later, "Just leave me here. Get away."

I stumbled in surprise, ending up against the wall while I regathered my bearings. "What? I can't leave you here! You can't even walk!" An idea popped into my head, one that I should've realized was stupid and dangerous, but I was too inebriated to process that. "I have a room in that hotel over there. I think there's a first-aid kit. Just don't pass out until we get there. You're too heavy."

People who passed us on the sidewalk and the hotel receptionist gave us odd stares, but no one said or did anything. The guy tried to say a few things along the way, but either he was too weak to do it properly, or I was too drunk to comprehend the words. By the time I made it to my room and opened the door, I was sweating and breathless, feeling sick as a dog.

I took the man's weight back on as I held the door open with one foot, "C'mon, hurry. I think I'm gonna puke." Panting with effort, I all but dragged him through the door and across the room, where I let him fall onto the bed.

Stumbling and panicked, I immediately rushed into the bathroom to empty my stomach. Once I was done, I felt a lot better but drained. I brushed my teeth at the sink, staring hazily at my touseled appearance in the mirror.

After that, I kicked my shoes off and trudged out with the intention of falling asleep, only to see a man lying on his back with his head to the side atop my bed.

"Oh!" I'd totally forgotten about him.

So, I fumbled through the closet and the cabinet in the bathroom until I found a small first-aid kit. Then, I hurried to my knees beside the man and said, "Um, hey. Are you awake?" He didn't stir.

With a furrowed brow, I hesitantly cupped his cheek to move his head to a normal position. The breath in my body disappeared. He really is hurt! A deep cut was on his forehead. Blood had dripped down the side of his face. It wasn't bleeding that much now, thankfully.

I shook my head with an empathetic frown as my hand wandered down his shoulder and arm to his hand. The knuckles were bloody when I picked it up to inspect. He'd obviously put up a fight. What if he's the one who started it? Did I just drag a bad guy into my room against his will? He might hurt me when he wakes up!

My gaze drifted back to his face, and I noticed a strange tattoo above his right brow. Is he a Suna native? I don't think so because his skin is as pale as mine.

Now that he's here, there's nothing I can do but patch him up and pray he's grateful enough to spare me later.

With no other choice, I got to work wiping the blood from his face and hands. It took a while in my drunken state, but I managed to disinfect and bandage the more severe areas.

As I began restocking the first aid kit, my eyes drooped. I blinked slowly, trying to wake myself up. My eyes sluggishly drifted to the sleeping man's face. He's all patched up, so it'll be okay if I just sleep for a bit, right? Just an hour or so. Then, I'll wake up before he does so I can be ready for his reaction.

A sigh passed my lips as I gave in and fell onto my side on the thick duvet. I fell asleep instantly. The next thing I knew, something cold was touching my knee. Groaning, I tried to curl into a ball for warmth.

A hand held my ankle to keep that leg still, causing my eyes to shoot open.

"Don't move. I'm almost done, then I'm leaving."

I sat up slowly, mouth coming into a thin line when my gaze locked onto the now-awake man's. He's knelt at the end of the bed with the first aid kit out. "...What are you doing?" Please don't try to touch me or worse! What was I thinking, bringing a strange, bloody man here? He even told me to leave him alone, and I ignored it!

"Your knee was bleeding."

I finally managed to tear my eyes from his and looked down to confirm his statement. I must've busted it when I fell in the alleyway earlier, but why is he…? Humiliated, I gingerly tried to move, only for his hold on my ankle to tighten and his teal eyes to narrow, "Y-You don't have to do that. I'm fine."

"You did mine. I'll do yours," his voice was tense, almost threatening.

I think he'll get angry if I don't listen. Maybe I should just stay calm and let him finish up.

Slowly, I nodded. It was quiet as he worked momentarily before I awkwardly asked, "Are you feeling better? I'm worried you might have a concussion since your head was hit."

"You don't know me."

The statement was blunt, as though quoting a math equation. "Um, well, that's true. I'm sorry. I should've asked your name."

He grimaced, glaring at my knee while ignoring my implied question, "Who is Naruto?"

My eyes widened, "H-Huh?!"

There was a long silence before he responded, though he didn't sound all that interested. Maybe he's just trying to make me stop asking him questions. He really seems not to like it. "You said that name earlier. Did you mistake me for them?"

"O-Oh, no! No, that's not what happened, I, um…" I trailed off, mortified and confused about what to say.

"Then why would you bring a strange man into your room? I could rape or kill you."

The blood in my veins ran ice cold. Teal eyes lifted to burn into mine. The intensity put me off, as did the fact that he didn't look away after a few seconds like most people do. Eye contact like that isn't common, especially between strangers. I found myself unable to look away, though. As though in a trance, I responded, "You won't do that."

He continued to stare for a moment, then narrowed his glare further and said, "How can you be sure?"

"You're bandaging my knee right now. Would you do that if you planned to hurt me?"

No, he wouldn't. Well, it wouldn't make sense if he did, at least. I can't explain it, but I know when I look at his face that he's a good person. Maybe I'm just being a fool, like always.

An odd, subtle change met the man's expressionless face as he averted his gaze to my knee to finally put a bandage on it. "Who knows?" That sounded cynical, and for some reason, it made me feel sad.

When he reached his feet, my lips moved independently of my mind, "You don't have to-!" He looked down at me again, and I realized his face was pale. There were scarily dark bags under his eyes. Hesitantly, I repeated, more composed this time, "You don't have to go."

"You don't know me. I'm leaving."

"Wait."

What am I doing? I'm not even drunk anymore, so why am I being reckless like this?

He turned his body toward me again as I came to stand before him. He said nothing.

I blushed but held my hand out, "My name is Hinata."

The redhead frowned, staring at my hand, "What do you want?"

"You, uh…You shake it with yours and tell me your name."

"No," he said quietly, meeting my gaze once more, "What do you want from me? What do you hope to gain? I'm not going to pay you."

My brow furrowed as my hand fell to my side, "I don't want your money. I just want to know what to call you."

"Why? We'll never see one another again. You're not from Sunagakure."

I asked, surprised, "How do you know?"

"You wore sandals at night. Locals don't."

"Why?"

"Because it's hard to see scorpions in the dark."

"Oh…." The man regarded me once more before walking toward the door.

Awkwardly, I said in a weak attempt to lighten the mood, "Well, it was nice to meet you. Thanks for not killing me."

He froze with a hand on the doorknob.

I stared, confused. What is he…? "Gaara."

"What?"

He turned to search my face, pausing for a long time before saying, "That's my name."

My chest tightened, which confused me. What was that? "Gaara," I quietly said, unable to pull my gaze from his again.

He nodded once, "Hinata."

The tightening sensation came again. My hand unconsciously gripped the shirt over my chest. Gaara's eyes briefly flicked to it before he turned the rest of his body to face me. His fingers twitched by his side before he mimicked what I'd done to his own shirt. "You don't know me, Hinata," his head tilted quizzically, his brow furrowing as though he couldn't understand his own words.

"You keep saying that."

Why am I saying all of this? Why do I feel like I'll cry if he leaves? I think I just don't want to be alone right now. My breath hitched as warmth met my face, chest, and stomach. Is that it? Am I trying to use this to prove Naruto was wrong? A boring woman would never be in this situation.

For some reason, a sense of calm washed over me with that realization. How sad. Even now, months later, his opinion is affecting me, at least subconsciously.

My feet moved independently as I took one cautious step forward and then another, never looking away from Gaara's face. He didn't seem surprised. His hand slowly fell from his chest to his side as he watched me like a hawk, "You're not listening."

Does he know what's going on right now? I think he does. I'm pretty sure we're on the same wavelength because he didn't move away when I came to stand directly in front of him, close enough to touch. His voice became a whisper. I could feel his breath on my face. "I started the fight."

A part of me figured that, the same part that didn't care because it needed something to change the dull existence I've led the past six months. That, and I was drunk.

As natural as breathing, I came closer, and so did he. I sensed his yearning to grab me, but he didn't. No, he hissed with a warning glare, "Get away."

My brow furrowed as his lips crashed into mine, and my hands grasped handfuls of his bloody shirt. Large hands circled my hips, holding me firmly against his front. It was rough, the kiss, but it was also slow. Gaara pulled back a moment later, and my eyes opened to meet his. The man looked angry. I thought he was going to yell at me, even though he was the one who initiated the kiss, but he didn't. No, he ran one hand up my back to hold the back of my head as he kissed me again, this time slipping his tongue past my teeth.

A quiet sound was lost between us as I allowed him to slowly guide me backward. When I felt the bed at the backs of my legs, it was like a flip switched within me. I came to my tiptoes to make it easier to deepen the kiss.

We parted moments later so I could pull his shirt off over his head, and he could do the same to mine. Other than our slight panting, it was quiet. Teal eyes seemed to glow in the poorly lit room, roaming down to my chest as he expertly unhooked my bra. Bashful heat met my face, but I didn't let it scare me away.

No. Tonight has to remain exciting.

My back hit the bed. Calloused, trembling fingers unbuttoned my shorts. Breathing heavily, I continued to be unable to look away from Gaara's face. His face screamed danger as he removed the remainder of my clothing.

A whiny moan escaped me when he came down on top of me, reigniting the kiss with vigor. I fumbled to unbutton and unzip his pants at the same time that he did.

Our lips parted long enough for me to plead, "Hurry." It felt desperate and anxious.

Was that my voice? It didn't sound like it, but who else could it have been? I don't think I've ever sounded so…sensual.

A low rumble left Gaara as he grabbed my hip to keep me still as he blindly lined himself up, sliding into me moments later. Once we were fully connected, the man no longer had to keep his weight on his knees. The callouses on his fingers sent shivers down my spine as he ran them up my sides while lowering himself so our chests pressed together.

When he began moving, my arms wrapped under his so I could hold his back, near his shoulder blades. Muscles moved beneath my fingers.

He's solid.

Gaara's so warm.

His scent and the way a tiny bit of his voice would occasionally leak into his heavier breathing made it feel like electricity was under my skin, in my veins.

Then, as if we'd planned it, we both pulled away from the kiss. How does he keep doing this? Why can't I look away? That same dark expression remained on his face as he stared down at me.

"Gaara," I gasped out between subdued, pleasured sounds.

A moan passed his lips as he somehow understood from only his name that I needed him to keep doing what he was doing. My legs tightened around his hips, as my insides did around his sex, the closer I became to climaxing. Frantically, my hands left his back, instead gripping the duvet beneath us. I'd leave marks on him otherwise, and he doesn't need more with all those bruises and scars already on his pale skin.

When I finally met my endgame, I closed my eyes in an attempt not to moan loudly. A hand suddenly held my jaw, lifting my chin so I couldn't look away from Gaara again when I opened them in surprise. Through the stinging pleasure, I acknowledged that the man has a strong desire for eye contact. It's not an inkling anymore but a fact.

One moment, I was stunned, panting loudly as I came down from my high beneath the scarily attractive redhead. In the next, he was sitting back on his knees, hand on his own flesh, as a hot, filmy substance landed on my stomach.

Then, everything went black.

A head-splitting ache shot through my temples as my phone rang nearby. Groaning, I blindly reached in that direction until I felt the device in my palm. I turned onto my side with winced eyes to see that it was Kiba calling. My throat felt like a desert, but I swallowed hard and answered, "...Hello?"

"Whoa. Good morning. You don't sound so hot, Hina."

I sighed, rolling onto my back with an arm slung across my eyes to block out the little bit of sunlight sneaking in from behind the curtains, "Well, you sound great. How'd it go?"

"It went amazing. Kankuro said we can stay at his family's place for the rest of our visit. I'll send the address, okay?" A groggy sound of affirmation left my mouth. "Text me when you're on your way."

The call ended, and I let the phone fall to the mattress. My arm unbent to fall, too, but it didn't hit the soft sheets. No, it landed on something warm and firm that immediately jerked upon impact. My eyes shot open in surprise as I sat up. Gaara sat up at the same time, looking just as confused as me. Realization met his eyes as I also regained most of my memories from last night.

A wildfire blush met my face as I fumbled to cover my chest with the sheets, "Um, good morning."

"I fell asleep," the man breathed, teal eyes zoned out. He must have meant to leave before I woke up.

Awkwardly, I covered my eyes, entirely mortified, "It's alright. I won't ask you to stick around or anything." Guilt washed over me as I recalled how obvious Gaara had made it that he wanted to leave last night, at least before things got heated.

As incredible as he was in bed, I all but peer-pressured him into it, didn't I? Did he even want it? God, I feel like a predator.

The man got up and searched for his clothing without a word. My hand slid down my face. When I caught a glimpse of his profile, I fell back to the pillows and covered my entire face with both hands.

Of course, I was attracted to Gaara last night. I wouldn't have slept with him otherwise. I don't recall him being this handsome, though. The red of his hair and the brightness in his eyes contrast dramatically with his white skin. His body is excellent, too. I don't remember what it looked like much, but I could never forget how it felt, especially his arms.

The sound of the door opening and closing met my ears, and I peeked through my fingers in disbelief. He got dressed so quickly!

Tears welled in my eyes as I rolled onto my side and groaned again. It's not like I wanted him to stick around forever or anything, but he could've at least said goodbye. I already felt awful about myself before it. Last night, I was convinced sleeping with him would help with the gutwrenching angst of my breakup, and it did for a moment, but now I'm awake and clear-headed.

Sleeping with Gaara was a mistake. It was selfish. We're strangers, but I somehow know he would've backed off the moment I told him to, no matter how scary he appeared. It wasn't fair to use him like that. I'm no better than Naruto at this point.

So, feeling even more down than yesterday, I showered, dressed, gathered my belongings, and took a cab to the address Kiba sent me. Before knocking, I closed my eyes and took a calming breath, patting my cheeks to give them some color.

When the door opened, Kiba smiled excitedly, hissing so his boyfriend wouldn't overhear, "This is crazy, right?!"

I giggled, allowing him to take my small suitcase, and followed him inside, where the tall man from last night waited with a casual grin, "Hey, Hinata, right? Welcome. Treat it like home while you're here, alright?"

There might've been a bit of anticipation that Kankuro was a bad guy, but it disappeared as he spoke warmly and led us upstairs and down a long hallway to a bedroom, "You're staying for five more days, right? This is technically my little brother's room, but he's never home, so you can sleep there."

I looked around awkwardly. This room actually belongs to someone? It could pass a military inspection! Other than the few books on the nightstand, half-full laundry hamper, and distinct scent, it could've been a hotel room.

"This smell…is it popular? It seems familiar," I asked.

Kankuro shrugged, "That's my brother's cologne, I think. Does it bother you?"

I shook my head, "No! No, it's actually kind of nice. I was just curious."