posted on livejournal April 12, 2005
archived March 16, 2007

Fandom: Naruto
Title: Boundaries
Author: datenshiblue, a.k.a. bonne
Spoilers: yes, manga
Warnings: yaoi, incest
Rating: NC-17 but only because I'm cautious. This is less explicit than it might be.
Time period: This takes place towards the end of the timeskip in the manga timeline
Disclaimer: Characters, world not mine, Masashi Kishimoto's. I'm certain he would never do this with them. ^^;

As usual, I wrote this in a flurry of joy, and then afterwards experienced the inevitable crisis of insecurity. I hope it stands up, but even if it doesn't, like all my fic-children, I love it for itself.

Boundaries
A Sandsib Ficlet

Even as the pretty boy beneath him moaned softly in completion, Kankurou felt a familiar prickle on the back of his neck.

Since he was at the edge of his own orgasm, he ignored the warning, focusing single-mindedly as he thrust a few more times into tight, willing flesh, a cat-smile stretching his lips horizontally as pleasure powered through his body and crested, leaving a shower of lethargy and relaxation in its wake.

Afterwards, it would have been easy enough to convince himself that the prickle was simply a memory. But his instincts were too good to allow such a self-deception to stand. It hadn't been a memory. Someone had been watching.

Within these walls it was easy enough to invade another's privacy, if you knew what you were doing. Of course only a handful of people still living knew the back ways and secrets of the Kazekage's residence well these days. A handful... all blood related.

Once his body recovered from the aftermath of sex, Kankurou wiped himself off and dressed, nudging the boy who was falling asleep, in a sensitive spot beneath his ribs. The discomfort woke the drowsing would-be courtier enough to blink up at the master puppeteer.

"Sleep if you want but be gone before daylight. And clean the bed."

Ignoring the reproach in nameless brown eyes, Kankurou fixed a few smudges in his makeup with the help of a pocket mirror and left. It wasn't his room, nor the boy's. It was one of dozens of guest rooms in the Kazekage's Palace that were mostly unoccupied. He never brought his brief dalliances to his own quarters, nor did he go to their rooms or houses. He didn't want strangers in his private spaces and was too cautious a shinobi to let down his guard in an environment controlled by others. Dragging the importuning male or female into one of the empty guest rooms was a habit, infrequent in practice but consistent in implementation.

If he'd completed the pattern, he'd have traveled a roundabout path, ending up at his own room, but only after winding around enough to confuse and reveal any follower. Safeguards in place, he'd have slept dreamlessly until mid morning.

For the second time in forever, he broke the sequence instead of reinforcing it. The one other time he'd pursued the prickle, he hadn't had to look far. The watcher had been arrogant.

Fourteen year old Kankurou was too blazingly angry to be prudent about confronting his younger brother.

"You were spying on me, you little pervert! How long have you been watching?"

The Kazekage wasn't difficult to find. Kankurou knew his brother well enough by now to guess which balcony to check first. The fifteen-year old didn't ignore his presence, or glare at him, as he once would have. He simply glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to his contemplation of the night.

Kankurou leaned on the balcony railing. He studied his younger brother. He thought he could almost see the weight of responsibility that had settled on narrow shoulders under the cowled robe. Gaara had fought with everything he had for that responsibility. Kankurou had been at first blatantly skeptical, then curious, then surprised, and finally respectful of the effort. Grudging agreement had become wholehearted support. And he'd been proud, really proud of his family for perhaps one of the first times in his life when the title had been conferred. He was one of only two people who truly had any real idea what it had taken from Gaara to get where he was.

And it had been a joint effort. Without the help of Temari and himself, Gaara would never have succeeded.

His tone was neither angry, nor subservient this time when he spoke.

"How long have you been watching?"

Gaara answered without turning around. "Since I was twelve," he said, in one of those twists of meaning he tended to come up with. It happened not because he was trying to be clever, but because his view of the world was so skewed from everyone else's. And that was something which, Kankurou had grown up enough to realize years ago, wasn't his younger brother's choice. "You know that."

"Yes, I know that. I don't know why, though."

Gaara continued to look out, but his smooth brows drew together. Kankurou could watch the expression in profile. On Gaara's right, he couldn't see the "love" mark, on the other side. The irony of that tattoo had always amused him somewhere deep inside, appealing to perhaps the best-developed sense of irony in Wind Country. As horrific as its true meaning was, Kankurou was too much the performer not to appreciate the visual statement of it, and the effect when coupled with his brother's features. In another life, one unmarred by a father's ambitions, his younger brother would have been considered a beauty.

Observing the slight frown, Kankurou tilted his head. "You don't know why either, is that it?"

The Kazekage turned towards him at that and Kankurou counted a point in his favor that he'd gotten Gaara to do so, simply with a few words. The slight frown increased fractionally. "I like to watch."

"You're a little freak," Kankurou said, his voice entirely without venom. Of course his brother was a freak. He'd finally learned to accept it, actually rarely wished Gaara had been born 'normal' any more, except for the kid's sake. Having Gaara for a little brother had contributed to a life just short of living hell, but he'd since realized he hadn't gotten the worst of it. "Is that all you do? Watch?" The words were out of his mouth before a flash of memory of a nightmare years ago could stop them. It had been a very vivid nightmare, derived from a hastily suppressed moment of wondering whether the monster would ever grow a sex drive.

"Yes, that's all I do."

The intonation was flat, typical. Much the same tone as Gaara had once used to tell Kankurou he'd kill him if he got in his way.

Allowing himself a couple of deeper breaths - and a little ironic self-jab for spooking himself with memories of a dream - Kankurou shrugged.

"That's a pity," he replied, and for once he wasn't mocking anything. He wondered if that was simply the way it had to be. Gaara's control over Shukaku and even the sand defense had increased dramatically in the last couple of years. Kankurou suspected that his brother could have controlled it better before, but only after the attack on Konoha had he had any motivation. The results had been startling.

Still, the isolation around Gaara was every bit as palpable, if the boundary had decreased a little. Kankurou and Temari had closer access than anyone else. They'd trained all their lives as a three-person team and both of them had had to take care of their younger sibling for brief periods when the "weapon" had overspent its charge. He couldn't remember ever approaching a fully healthy, rested, and fully aware Gaara any closer than a casual distance.

He supposed it was just another thing that sucked about being Gaara.

It gave Kankurou an uncomfortable feeling. It was a feeling he'd had before. He'd never been able to rationalize it away, but he'd banished it for quite a while by helping Gaara with his goal. This time he realized it might not be so easy to get rid of.

He found himself taking a few steps closer, his hands settling casually in his pockets. "How does it make you feel, watching?"

Gaara's flat, blue-green eyes flashed for a moment, then went back to that near-blank expression. "It aches."

Kankurou felt an odd flush at that almost emotionless statement. In fact, it started an ache inside his own body, unexpected but remarkably insistent. /Maybe the kid isn't the only freak in this family./ That thought made him want to laugh. They were all warped, all the Kazekage's children. They didn't acknowledge it much but they all knew it. Gaara just wore his differences on the outside where they couldn't be hidden.

"Yeah," Kankurou said. "It does ache. It aches, and it feels good. But I guess you don't get the feel good part."

Kankurou took another couple of steps closer and suddenly Gaara took a step back.

"Take it easy, kid," Kankurou said, his tone low and reassuring. He took his hands out of his pockets and held them up, palms out. He tried to remember if he had ever seen Gaara step back from anything. He was pretty sure he hadn't.

Gaara's nostrils dilated, but part of him was listening to that tone, there was a quality to it that was warm without being soft. He'd heard his big brother use that tone before, but it had never been directed at him.

Standing right in front of Gaara, Kankurou looked his younger brother in the eye. His mouth was curved slightly at the corners, a thoughtful, almost curious beginning of the cat smile.

/What the fuck do I think I am doing?/ he thought to himself. It had something to do with the ache and something to do with the discomfort. Beyond that, he really had no idea.

Kankurou slid his hands under either side of Gaara's jaw and around the sides of his face, tilting it up. His hands felt the smooth cool surface and his thumbs brushed at it. "You don't need that with me," he said calmly. "You know that."

Gaara's eyes closed in a slow blink and opened again and then the grains began to sift down and away, and Kankurou felt warm flesh under his palms. He brushed his thumbs lightly over his brother's cheeks and smiled. Gaara was so still it was as if he'd been turned into a living statue.

Kankurou had a split second of clarity when he saw all the reasons why he should stop and take a couple of giant steps back, perhaps even run, as if he were looking at a huge piece of parchment, closely written in fine print. And Gaara's face was entirely still in his hands, his eyes open, watching. Waiting.

It was too late. He couldn't step back without hurting his monstrous little brother, he'd gone too far forward for that. And this hurt would cut further into the soft parts than anything in years and years. /What a fuck-up. Temari's going to kill me. Kill me dead./

Leaning down, he just brushed his lips over Gaara's cheek, then turned slightly to find the source of a warm breath that had emerged from the younger boy's parted lips. A brief press of mouth to mouth. Then a longer one. Then suddenly Kankurou found himself delving into that slightly open mouth, seeking, tasting, encouraged by the complete passivity. For a few seconds Kankurou felt something like a response and he lifted his head, taking in a deep breath. He felt lightheaded.

Gaara stared at his brother, his features flat. Almost flat - his tongue made a brief appearance, running over his lips.

"Freak," Gaara said.

"This is news?" Kankurou answered. "If you been watching since you were twelve, you knew all that and more." He reached out, slowly but firmly, and wrapped one hand around his brother's. "I think we better take this inside."

Gaara glanced down at the hand clasped around his. His older brother had picked him up several times while he was incapacitated but he couldn't think of one instance when Kankurou had voluntarily touched him when it wasn't for a mission and there was nothing wrong. Kankurou tugged his hand and Gaara seemed to stick in place for a moment, then he moved, letting himself be led inside.

Kazekage of Sunagakure he was. Also a boy who had received no genuine affection in his entire life. He could no more have disengaged his hand from his brother's than he could have unsealed the demon from inside his body.

It was a little bit unfair, Kankurou thought, as he led Gaara into the palace and through the hallways to the Kazekage's private rooms. But it probably compensated for the fact that Gaara was still the most unpredictable person, not to mention the most dangerous. If this backfired there wouldn't be enough of the puppeteer to scrape into a teaspoon.

The large main room of the Kazekage's suite looked empty and unused. The huge bed had been rested on, but not slept in, since their father had tenanted here. Gaara's belongings were few, and were clustered in a corner around a large armchair, and the stand that had been made for the sand gourd. Kankurou didn't exactly feel comfortable with it in the room, but Gaara might, and that was more important. The gourd didn't have to be next to him for the sand to react to his mood.

Kankurou led Gaara over to the wide, flat bed, more for a place they could both sit than anything, though other possibilities were certainly twirling around in the back of his mind. If they'd had a more normal life, it wouldn't have seemed right, but their lives had been anything but normal, and while it didn't exactly seem right, it didn't exactly seem wrong either. Somewhat left of center is how Kankurou would have described it, he supposed.

Standing next to the bed, Gaara looked at his older brother. "What are you doing?" he asked. His tone was flat but there was a note of actual curiosity.

"You can't just watch forever," Kankurou said. Although there really wasn't any reason why not. No reason other than the fact that the thought of it, of Gaara spending his entire life, however long or short, in that kind of isolation, irritated him. It was the kind of thing that would nag at him. He tried to figure out when his fear, irritation, annoyance, and occasional hatred of his younger brother had become some different kind of feeling. It had to have been after that startling battle, after that shocking moment when Gaara had said the most unexpected thing. /"I'm sorry."/

It had come to him, not long after that. He'd had a sudden memory flash of hearing Uzumaki Naruto's words as he and Temari approached. Something about loneliness and pain. And he'd realized that was the undercurrent he'd been hearing all his life in Gaara's voice. He'd heard it so constantly that he'd tuned it out.

Pain. His little brother had been screaming silently in pain for his entire life. A scream no one acknowledged hearing. It had been drowned out by their own pains, their own fears, their own struggles.

Their father had all but forbid them from hearing it.

It was too late to make up for that now. Things could not have gone otherwise than they had. But if Gaara could change himself so much....

Kankurou released Gaara's hand so he could slide an arm around the other boy. He pulled him gently but firmly against his own body. Gaara was almost as malleable at first as when he'd been out of it.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to," Kankurou said. "You've been watching all this time... so you know what things I'm talking about."

Gaara stared at Kankurou in disbelief. His imagination couldn't encompass it at first. Then he brought up images from what he had spied on earlier that night. Imagined himself instead of that boy in some of them. His eyes widened. He couldn't entirely make the images fit, but it was enough to bring the ache back into his body.

Kankurou watched the subtle clues that passed for expressions on his brother's face. He nodded, following it pretty closely. Close enough to start to feel the ache himself. It was a sweet sensation to someone used to satisfying it. At least when it seemed worth the trouble.

He reached down to Gaara's arms, which hung down from the boy's shoulders, and placed them around his own waist, wondering if they'd slide off the moment he let go.

They didn't. Progress. Kankurou licked his lips and then placed his mouth over Gaara's, pressing them together. He meant to go slower than slow, but when he felt Gaara's arms actually tighten around him, when his little brother's mouth imitated his and pressed back, he felt a sudden violent wash of heat and the next thing he knew he was thrusting his tongue in, repeatedly.

He felt Gaara go from passive to curious, starting to suck on his tongue... He was a little shocked, truth to be told. He hadn't expected his brother to be such a quick study. Then he felt Gaara's fingers closing on his back, actually digging into his shoulders, and he lost himself for a few minutes as the kiss rapidly became more intense than he'd ever intended.

Kankurou wasn't quite sure when they ended up lying on the bed.

He just realized suddenly that they were, that he had pushed them there, and that Gaara hadn't resisted at all. He hadn't resisted anything. He seemed to quite like kissing. He also seemed to like embracing, clutching with his hands, tightening his fingers almost enough to bruise. Kankurou wondered if it had something to do with not having held anything since he gave up teddy bears.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Kankurou repeated, as he found himself pulling off the cowled robe and unfastening Gaara's tunic. He stopped himself from completing the action. "We can hug in our clothes or something."

Gaara reached up and pulled at the front of Kankurou's tunic. "Is that what you want to do? I've seen you naked."

Kankurou grinned in spite of himself. "You little pervert," he said. "You've seen too damn much. I bet you've seen Temari naked too."

"She's pretty."

"Why you horrible little freak.... of course she is...."

Gaara traced the cat smile with a finger, slowly, as if he'd just thought of doing it. Kankurou's grin increased and he nipped lightly at the finger. Gaara's eyes widened. He pulled his finger away, then put it back, curiously. Kankurou nipped it again, then put it in his mouth and sucked the tip.

"I'm not hurt," Gaara said.

"I know, I didn't bite you that hard."

Then Gaara seemed to shiver briefly, and pulled his finger out with a soft pop. He reached out and took Kankurou's hand, and placed his brother's finger in his own mouth, sucking.

Kankurou's eyes closed halfway. "You shouldn't do that until you know what it means."

"What does it mean?"

"It means you're offering to suck me."

"Down there?"

"Yeah, down there."

"Do you want me to?"

Kankurou pushed Gaara back on the bed and kissed him fiercely to shut him up.

A little while later, Gaara said, "Is that what it meant when you did it to me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It just didn't."

"Why?"

"Maybe it did. Shut up."

"You like telling me what to do."

"Yes, I do. It makes up for all those times you said if I didn't stay out of your way, you'd kill me."

Gaara's hand had somehow managed to work inside Kankurou's tunic. His fingers felt hungry for the touch of flesh.

Kankurou reasoned his little brother wasn't stupid. He'd say stop if he wanted to stop. So he finished unfastening the black tunic, baring Gaara's incredibly pale skin.

The first night, Kankurou made himself stop with some necking and touching. The touching went a lot further than he'd intended. And Gaara continued to be a quick study. The first time Kankurou had touched him down there, Gaara had actually shivered. The idea of Gaara shivering came close to blowing Kankurou's mind. Gaara came very quickly and the little sound he made was almost painful. The sand swished around in the gourd, audibly, which was enough to give Kankurou a momentary chill but Gaara recovered quickly and insisted on returning the favor. He would have done more if Kankurou had let him, but for once the older boy laid down the law and for once, the younger boy listened and capitulated. That alone was enough to almost give Kankurou a head rush.

It might have been awkward facing Temari the next day but she was out of Sunagakure on another of those trips coordinating the chuunin exams. He decided he'd figure out what to tell her by the time she got back.

The Kazekage wasn't really the same the next day but no one could put a finger on why. There was just something almost... light about him. His expressions weren't really that different, his voice was just as flat, but there was an energy around him that made people look a second time and then turn away puzzled, unable to figure out what had gotten their attention.

Kankurou felt almost guilty for it. Almost. But he also felt a strange kind of pride that he had the power to do something like this. To take the curse and the isolation of their lives and turn it on its head. Only something essentially forbidden could have managed it.

It was a couple of days later that he and the Kazekage were both free for a few hours late at night. He found Gaara and jerked his head back towards the inside and the boy followed him without a word.

This time he took Gaara back into his own rooms.

He thought he was trying to prevent the creation of a pattern, but it was just as much an acknowledgement of their unique relationship, and the things they both only shared with one other person.

And now, the things they were sharing between the two.

~ owari ~

Love & Gundams