Naruto woke with panic bubbling in the base of his skull, an instinctual prodding that catapulted him into the waking world.

It didn’t take him long to figure out why.

His mouth was dry— one of the few hangover symptoms he ever woke up with, thanks to his demonic metabolism, and he could smell the lingering alcohol on his body. He had been drinking. It was hardly a perilous occurrence— generally, he was an amiable drunk. The problem came, however, just like with any other in his situation— from the quantity. What separated him from any other, although, was that when he got too drunk, a slew of increasingly demonic instincts were released.

Even so, that didn’t necessarily mean Naruto suddenly went Kyuubi with that one-too-many. That was the beauty of the Fourth’s seal— even with consciousness compromised, it took care of restraining the demon within for him. It wasn’t entirely effective, of course, so by that point, the demon’s more subtle influences would take effect. That was all that was needed to make Naruto a danger to those in his immediate surroundings, unfortunately.

Naruto didn’t drink often, but even when he did, few noticed a change in his temperament as his blood-alcohol level rose, so for a time he had been mostly oblivious to its effects on him.

That changed, however, when another demon was added into the mix.

Nothing in his surroundings served to soothe Naruto’s nerves. He was in his bedroom, unchanged for years, and alone, but that was no consolation.

Because he could smell him. Everywhere.

He was on his pillow, in his sheets, on his skin— Gaara had undoubtedly been in contact with all of them.

It wouldn’t have been the first time this had happened— weddings, it seemed were occasions where both Jinchuuriki allowed the consumption of alcohol to go relatively unmonitored, and Gaara’s sister’s only a few years before had been no exception. Naruto’s memory was fuzzy on that night, but the morning after could be vividly recalled.

In jumping out of bed, Naruto’s feet found another disconcerting clue. He tripped over folds of satin and chiffon, increasing his speed towards the exit for knowing what it was.

“Gaara!” His call as he stumbled into the hall was desperate, and more than a little scared. “Gaara! Where are you?”

It was a small apartment, and it was only a couple steps until he reached the living room, where he encountered his target staring back at him silently over the back of the futon couch.

Gaara blinked at him slowly, before rising, shutting and discarding the book in his hands along the way. With an awkward tilt to his head that Naruto had learned to decipher as uncertainty, he stated, “Good morning.”

Naruto slid to a stop, astonished because Gaara never said anything without truth. He was dressed in Naruto’s clothes, he was quick to notice, his sweatpants and an old T-shirt looming large on the redhead’s slighter frame.

Gaara started fiddling with his hem, noticing the path of his eyes. “I... couldn’t wear that dress any longer, and all my things are still in the Hokage’s tower.” he explained, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake by helping himself to— what was now his husband’s— things.

Naruto just nodded mutely, straining to remember if it had been his hands which had unlaced those white ribbons— but he came up blank. “Gaara...” he took a cautious step towards him. He looked alright, albeit rather nervous for someone of Gaara’s stoicism, but he couldn’t really tell from across the room.

He let Naruto approach, a questioning look in his innocent eyes. He startled slightly when he felt Naruto’s fingertips brush his abdomen. “What are you doing?”

Years ago, lying beside this same body, Naruto had felt the spark— a tiny burst of brand new chakra, nestled inside the center of Gaara’s being, where human and demon energies intermixed— and instinct had let him know immediately what it was, and that it was part of him, too.

But now, even after slipping his hand under the loose shirt, and pressing his palm to Gaara’s warm skin to make sure, only the calm pulse of Gaara and the dizzy swirl of Shukaku’s energy greeted him.

Naruto breathed a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Gaara was giving him an increasingly irked look. “Naruto, what are you doing?”

All worries dissipated, Naruto grinned. “Just making sure. For a moment there, I— hey, what happened last night, anyway?”

“You don’t remember?” Blinking, Gaara shrugged. “You were drunk, I brought you here.”

“That’s all? Heh! And I was worried over nothing!”

“Well...” Gaara was blushing.

Naruto froze. “Well what? I didn’t— did I—“ His fear came back— had he hurt Gaara after all? Again?

“We kissed.” Gaara’s eyes slid to the side, breaking eye contact. “For... a while. But then you fell asleep.”

The shy flush crossing the redhead’s nose brought back fuzzy images to Naruto’s mind— images that came along with some very pleasing sensations.

“Are you... alright?” He had to ask. “Did I... hurt you at all?”

Surprise briefly flashed in Gaara’s eyes. “It didn’t hurt... it felt— good.”

Naruto finally relaxed. “Good.”

Gaara’s averted gaze traveled from the far wall to the hand still pressing against the soft skin of his belly.

Remembering it, Naruto retracted the offending appendage with a jerk.

Gaara’s gaze was blank when it returned to Naruto’s face— a cold apprehension shivered to life in Naruto’s middle, as a lack of expression from Gaara usually meant something was hiding in the redhead’s unpredictable psyche. “You were looking for your seed.”

Naruto shuddered at the metaphor, assaulted by the image of Gaara being ripped apart by a vicious weed growing from his middle.

“You do realize that is our purpose?”

“Huh?”

“Our goal? The entire reason we are wearing these—“ Gaara indicated the gold band on his ring finger. “Remember?”

Naruto swallowed heavily, looking down at his own ringed hand. The thought still repulsed him. Gaara’s pained look as they regarded each other that morning after Temari’s wedding still haunted his most shameful nightmares.

He had lost control completely— and his best friend had paid the price for it. And if Naruto had not intervened, that price would have grown to a size unknown.

“Naruto?” Gaara’s tentative palm on his pectoral repelled him— he had not realized he was wearing nothing but boxer shorts, and the unexpectedly intimate contact surprised him.

“We— we don’t have to—“

Gaara gave him the Look.

“Do we?”

“Naruto.” sighed Gaara.

“But— I mean— I’m Hokage now, so we’ve accomplished everything we needed to. Why would we have to go any farther? I’m not wiling to take that risk’ttebayo!”

Gaara was giving him a disappointed look. “Well— if you don’t want to... But after a certain period the Council will have the power to separate us, and force you into an arranged marriage with someone of assured fertility— and they will keep doing that until at least one child is produced.”

Naruto’s chest constricted in sudden fear. “They can do that?”

“Of course they can.” Gaara gave him the Look again. “It’s the second article in the law that caused us to get married in the first place— didn’t you read it?”

“Well— I—“ Naruto suddenly realized his predicament— he had a choice of getting Gaara pregnant with an unnatural demon child, or losing him to a forced divorce. And even after only a day in holy matrimony, Naruto had grown even less willing to give Gaara up. That didn’t make his first choice any more appealing, however.

“Then again,” Gaara turned away suddenly, and Naruto detected that familiar loneliness in his voice and the set of his shoulders. “if your only intention was to become Hokage... then you do have it, and there is little the council can do to take that away from you now. If that was my only purpose to you, then you have no reason to go to the pains of creating a family with me.”

“Gaara—“

“You needn’t wait for the Council, you know. You can file for divorce any time you like, and I’ll soon be replaced by a more suitable substitute—“

“No!” Naruto spun him around so fast, he could hear Gaara’s neck snap. “I don’t want anyone else! You’re MINE!”

Gaara’s eyes were wide, and Naruto forced himself to pause, knowing that his eyes were shining a very angry red by the way his lengthening fangs were pricking his lips. After a breath, he said more calmly, “Gaara... I have no intention of losing you. I have every intention, in fact, of keeping you. That vow stuff from yesterday? All that ‘until death’ stuff? That was a promise. And I keep my promises’ttebayo!”

Mouth opening wordlessly, Gaara stared. The surprise in his eyes, Naruto knew, was over the discovery of such devotion. Even between them, Gaara still needed to be reminded that he could be loved. “I—“ he bit his lip, teal orbs taking in Naruto’s earnest expression, savoring the intensity of emotion the blonde was feeling, marked by the awakening of Kyuubi in his eyes. “keep my promises, too, remember.”

Naruto’s lips turned up in a natural grin as all the tension drained out of him. “Yeah.” Being reminded that their relationship went two ways— a quality so often lacking in Naruto’s other relations, evoked a feeling of elation. Pulling Gaara closer was reflex, and the redhead fitted so nicely against him, Naruto was tempted to hold him there forever. “Huh— this is a little easier without the dress!” Naruto chuckled.

He could feel Gaara’s eyebrows rise, forehead to forehead as they were. “One would think I would be the first to say that.”

“Yeah. Dattebayo!” Naruto laughed, stroking Gaara’s back— a motion he had seen, but never experienced, but imagined felt very nice. The subtle curve of Gaara’s spine was not unpleasant under his hand, at least, even through the thin material of his shirt.

The timid brush of Gaara’s fingertip on his cheek slowed that motion, however. Gaara accepted just about any level of physicality Naruto threw at him, but allowed little else, since he was in fact completely unused— and therefore uncomfortable— with anything more intimate than a handshake. Allowing Naruto to do as he pleased out of trust was one thing, but initiating contact himself was entirely another.

So it was with quiet awe, half-afraid that a sudden movement would scare away the curious redhead like a loud noise would a doe, that Naruto let his probing fingers explore his face. They did not go far, tracing his whisker marks before what might be the softest of palms cupped his cheek.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Huh?” Naruto jerked, pulling his attention away from the mesmerizing caress. “Well— um— there’s no one here to see.”

Naruto felt the hand drop from his face with a sense of loss.

“Is that all it was for? A show? You could barely keep your lips off me yesterday, and here I am, at your disposal, and you haven’t even the fancy? And what were those drunken gropings last night, then? Did your inebriated mind mistake your bedroom for an audience? Or was it just an alcohol-induced mistake like you claim the last time to be?”

Naruto winced. Gaara’s expression was harsh, but his eyes screamed the confusion of the lost and forsaken child he had once been. He had been selfish to think he was the only one craving their intimacy— Gaara was deprived as he was, perhaps more so. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think— well... I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Isn’t that what spouses do?” Gaara’s voice was more plea that question by that point— and Naruto realized he had not qualms about fulfilling that request. Just a day before, and he might have been galled by the thought of kissing another of the same sex— but this wasn’t just some guy, this was Gaara. And somehow, that made a big difference.

“Yeah, and that’s what we are, huh?”

Gaara quieted, waiting so see whether Naruto agreed with him or not.

“You like kissing, huh?”

The redhead nodded with a slight blush.

“Good.”

And without further ado, Naruto swooped in to close the deal.

They kissed for what was perhaps the umpteenth time, given their liberal display the evening before, but it became far more satisfying experience because the action ceased to be an act, and became for them a natural interaction. Gone was the audience, the only thing that mattered was their two bodies held close, and feeling the other.

Gaara didn’t need his sensitive neck to be stroked to purr this time, and his fingers curled against his newly dubbed husband’s bare shoulders. The taste of Gaara’s mouth had a calming effect on Naruto, and he forgot his previous fears. He went back to stroking Gaara’s back, marveling at how nice it was to cradle his best friend in his arms like there was where he belonged.

The sudden opening of Naruto’s front door, unfortunately, broke the spell.

The Jinchuuriki and the newcomer stared at each other, all surprised and unprepared for such a situation.

“Sakura,” Naruto greeted, after he had gathered his wits. He hoped she didn’t notice the lingering effects of the Kyuubi in the rough quality of his voice.

“Um,” The medic-nin blushed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude.” She glanced at Gaara, whose expression was quickly changing from a happy daze to a murderous glare. “But Tsunade-sama sent me.”

Naruto’s eyebrows came together. He would have thought the old hag would be half-way to the nearest casino by now, considering she no longer had a noble image to uphold. “What for?”

Sakura extended her arm awkwardly, and two metal shapes dangled from the small ring she held. “Her wedding gift. She meant to give it to you last night, but she got... distracted.” In other words, the Godaime had been gloriously smashed. “She had all of the gifts you left at the party forwarded there, and it’s already furnished so you only have to worry about bringing your important belongings.”

“Huh?” Naruto replied articulately. “What are you talking about?”

Gaara smacked Naruto’s shoulder to get his attention. “A house, Naruto. Tsunade-sama is giving us a house.”

“WHAT!”

“Not just a house, actually,” Sakura interjected, looking proud to deliver this bit of information. “An estate. It’s been the property of the government for several years, but the last motion Tsunade made as Hokage was to secure it for you two.”

“An estate!”

“A small one, perhaps— but there’s plenty of room for two.”

“Baa-chan gave us an estate! Sugoi!” Naruto took Gaara by the shoulders and shook him. “Do you know what this means?”

The redhead stared at his ecstatic husband. “I won’t have to put up with your smelly apartment?”

“No! Well, that, too— but I’m rich!”

Gaara blinked at him. “Well, of course you are. You married me.”

“Huh?”

“Why do you think Kazekage runs in our family? Money makes some essential political connections.”

“Whatever! But this means I can have a HUGE garden!” He ran to the window to stoop over the potted monstrosity he liked to call, “Whitney! You can live in real dirt now!” And he turned to Stephan, the fickle gardenia. “And you can live in real sunlight!”

Gaara and Sakura stared as Naruto continued to flit from plant to plant, eventually running to the kitchen to have a lengthy conversation with Gabby, the loquacious aloe plant.

“I didn’t realize the plants were that important to him.” Sakura ventured, uncomfortable with starting a conversation with the unfriendly redhead, but getting even more nervous about the fact they were alone in their silence.

Gaara spared her a glance, and shrugged.

Suppressing her anger over the snub, Sakura felt her duty to be conversational fulfilled.

Several minutes later, with his rounds complete, Naruto skidded back into the living room. “We should go there! Right now!”

“Um, well,” Sakura blinked at the hyper blonde. “Don’t you want to go to the office first? I mean, it’s your first day as a—“ she glanced at Gaara with a blush. “married couple, so your absence would be understood... but it is also your first day as Hokage, and I thought!”

“Oh my Kami!”

Both redheads jumped as Naruto exploded with a scream.

“I forgot!” And he disappeared with another dizzying burst of energy.

Sakura blinked, and sent the ex-Kazekage a questioning glance. “Um... what—“

“Okay!” And Naruto appeared on the scene again, fully clothed in his Hokage robes. “Konoha! Here comes Uzumaki Naruto! Rokudaime Hokage!” His intent now obvious, Naruto made a motion for the door, before spinning with a sudden thought, and pulling his wife in for a quick hug. “You can go straight to the estate, and get comfortable. I’ll stop by around lunch time, ‘kay?”

Said wife barely had time to nod understanding before the Hokage was out the door with an enthusiastic battle cry.

Both redheads stood frozen for several moments, taking the time to recover from the disorienting ball of energy that was Uzumaki Naruto.

“Um... okay...” Sakura said at last, giving Gaara a wary look. “Well, I guess I’ll just show you where it is, so you can start moving your stuff out of the apartment.”

Hate her though he might, Gaara gave his nod to let her take the lead.
 

&&&

It was a busy first day for the Rokudaime Hokage. It was all he had expected— paperwork, mission debriefings, the handling of endless ninja-related complaints and requests— he just hadn’t realized how much there was. Konoha was a big city, and more than four dozen ninja were on their way in or out every day— all of which the Hokage had to keep track of. And that didn’t include the long term upper level missions he had to be constantly updated on, and the numerous lower level missions of genin and chuunin he had to manage that occurred within the village walls.

His only relief was that the Council was, fortunately, unusually silent.

It was dark, however, by the time Naruto realized how much time had passed, mostly thanks to the awakening of his empty stomach.

Guiltily remembering his promise to visit Gaara at midday, Naruto rushed back to his apartment.

Only to find it empty.

Most of his furniture was still there. The smelly futon couch still stood solitarily in the middle of his living room, the dying refrigerator still gurgled in the kitchen, and his bedroom was still host to a lopsided, creaky bed and a beaten dresser. But the entire place was devoid of what had made it home for so long— his clothes, his pictures, his plants, and— more recently— his wife.

Of course, Gaara was the practical type who hated to lie around when there was something to be done. He must have spent his entire day moving their belongings into their new home— the only problem was that Naruto had no idea where that place was.

That situation quickly resolved itself, however, when Naruto ventured near one of the open windows. Gaara’s scent was on the sill, and strong enough that he had either climbed over it repeatedly, or had sat there for a long time— and all very recently.

Following an idea, Naruto climbed out onto the roof, and grinned as the distinct odor of his redhead found him there, too.

What a thoughtful spouse he had, to walk the same path each trip so as to leave a scent trail strong enough that Naruto didn’t even need to put his nose to the ground to follow it.

The path took him through the upscale part of town, past the Hyuuga, the Inuzuka, and finally the Akamichi estates, but after that Naruto found himself among the very old, very tall trees that marked the edge of Konoha. There was a partially overgrown path, which had once been a very nice pebble stone ambulation, he was sure, but was now pockmarked and weedy. The eastern façade of the Hokage mountain ran along beside it; Naruto could see it through the trees and undergrowth only a few yards away. He was sure Gaara would like that, being reminiscent of the sheer cliffs of his home village.

The gate came upon him as a surprise. Almost as tall as the trees around it, and covered in creeping plant life, it blended with the forest.

One part of it stood out shiny and new: a name plate, “Uzumaki.” Pausing for a moment, Naruto imagined what would be behind the barrier. He got the impression that it was old, and had been neglected for a long time— it figured that Tsunade would give them a fixer-upper as a wedding gift. That woman just didn’t hand out easy passes.

Gaara had obviously already begun with the fixing part, as all the dirt and weeds had been cleared from the path near the door, allowing it to rotate smoothly when Naruto pressed a hand to it.

Beyond the door was exactly what Naruto had expected— a somewhat dilapidated, and certainly outdated gathering of small buildings. It was easy to imagine the beauty it had been, however, even with weeds choking the rows of fountains, stone statues crumbling on their pedestals, and the veneer peeling off the traditional houses. It was the very image of abandonment.

Naruto was grinning suddenly. Besides the ugliness of ill repair the place had a certain beauty that was both familiar and irrefutable. The plants, bolding growing beyond the gardens they were intended for, provided a vibrance that cut through the picture of decay, and an invasion of wild flowers splashed the lively green with enough bright colors to make even Naruto squint.

He liked the place already. It needed a little work— like the stagnant water in the fountains definitely had to be drained if they didn’t want to be eaten by mosquitoes, but the gardens were in a perfect state of disarray that spoke directly to Naruto’s tastes.

The further into the compound he traveled, the more diffuse Gaara’s trail became, but it wasn’t hard to find the redhead himself.

Only one building had been cleaned, a small one near the end of the front courtyard. Naruto’s plants lined the porch in their incongruous pots, and he smiled to see they had each been delivered safely.

Leaving his sandals outside, Naruto slid open the antique papered door.

Gaara turned, yawning a greeting.

Naruto grinned wider, focusing immediately on the redhead, who was reclining next to a pot-bellied woodstove on an over-cushioned chaise lounge. “Silly, it’s practically summer! We don’t need a fire.”

Gaara stretched, arching off his pile of pillows with another yawn. “But I chose this house for the woodstove.”

Naruto closed the door— which nearly jumped out of its skids— with a chuckle. “Well, you certainly didn’t choose it for the door’ttebayo.”

“Yeah, it falls off it you’re not careful.”

“What! Geez, that old hag couldn’t have given us a place that isn’t falling apart?”

Gaara rubbed at his eyes. “Hm... I kinda like it, though.”

Naruto walked across the room to sit next to him, noticing as he went how the recently swept floor was made of bare wood, smoothed by the feet of an age past. “Yeah... me, too.”

The fire bathed his front in warmth as he drew close, and Naruto was forced to pull at the neck of his heavy robes. “Geez, it’s hot in here. How can you stand it?”

“I’m used to it.” Gaara blinked up at him sleepily from his precarious pile of pillows, the dark circles on his face softened by the pressing heat.

“You look tired.”

“I always look tired.”

“Well yeah, but... You didn’t have to wear yourself out, y’know, if you had waited for me, I would have helped with all the moving.”

Gaara shrugged, and Naruto’s eyes were drawn to the delicate shift of his collarbone under the skin of his throat, glowing a welcoming golden in the dim light.

“You hungry?” he pulled his eyes up to meet Gaara’s gaze— those eyes which were watching him with patient calm. “’Cuz I’m hungry.”

“Hm... I bought taiyaki today.” Gaara’s eyes shifted to indicate their location. “But I couldn’t finish... portions are so large in Konoha.”

Quick to fetch the promising foam carton, but even quicker to return to the fireside, having gotten used to the heat, Naruto’s stomach rumbled in expectation. “Sweet! They’re still warm! Eh? Gaara! There’s still six in here!”

“They gave me eight... even though I’m sure I paid for four. But they’re even bigger than they make them in Suna.”

“Hee hee...” What was once six soon became three.

“But I’ve never really been able to finish by myself, anyway... Temari and Kankurou are horrible food thieves.”

“Fishy, fishy...”

Gaara sighed in annoyance. “You could at least pretend to listen to me, you know.”

“Mm wissening!” Naruto proclaimed around a waffley fin.

“And I don’t think I could even imagine you to exhibit some form of good manners.” Gaara rolled his eyes away from Naruto’s stuffed cheeks.

After a painful swallow, Naruto replied with a mocking grin. “But I don’t think I would have any trouble imagining you in a dress’ttebayo!”

Gaara threw a pillow at him. “What kind of comeback is that! It’s completely off the point I was trying to make!”

Naruto opted for protecting what was left of the taiyaki over dodging the pillow. “But it certainly got the appropriate reaction, ne?” He giggled maniacally. “Isn’t that all a comeback needs?”

Huffing in annoyance, Gaara fought the urge to throw another pillow— he needed those for comfort. “Well, you better get really good with that imagination of yours, because you’re never seeing me in a dress again anywhere but your dreams.”

“What!” Gaara was somewhat surprised when Naruto started to whine— he hadn’t thought the reaction he’d be getting out of the blonde would be disappointment. “Why not?”

He had been hoping Naruto would share his feelings when it came to cross-dressing, despite all the teasing. Then again— he had been the one to develop the gender-bending Oroike no jutsu. “I just... I’m not comfortable with it.”

Naruto paused, and Gaara had trouble deciphering the purpose of the consideration in his look. “Not comfortable?” he prompted at last.

Gaara squirmed, unsure if he was stepping over a line or not— Naruto could be unpredictable even to him sometimes. “It’s not that it’s women’s clothing... I just— I mean, I don’t mind being—“ Exasperated, Gaara set his jaw. “I don’t like the breeze!”

Blue eyes blinking, Naruto stared at him for a moment before abruptly snorting. “The breeze! You’re from friggin’ Wind Country!”

“That’s irrelevant!” Gaara proclaimed hotly in defense. “In the desert, I wore pants!”

“Even so— there’s way more breeze there than on a sunny day in Konoha!”

Gaara’s face was burning hotter than the furnace next to him. Normally unaffected by such things— Naruto’s teasing touched Gaara more intimately than anyone else’s, just like the rest of what Naruto did. “It’s just... I felt naked.”

“Naked!” Naruto laughed louder. “You were wearing more layers yesterday than ever before— and with you, that’s really saying something!”

“Shut up...” Gaara growled, and rolled away from Naruto’s guffaws. He spent the next couple minutes like that, his back to the blonde, and his face getting progressively hotter under the direct force of the stove.

Two more taiyaki later, and Naruto’s laughter had been absent for a while. His voice was even half-way serious when he called for Gaara’s attention. “Hey— Gaara.”

The redhead huffed obstinately, even though his eyes were dry from the heat and his back was cold.

“Gaara!”

“What?” He twisted so he could give the blonde a glare.

But Naruto just grinned, the new softness in his eyes assuaging even Gaara’s ire. “You can wear whatever you want, y’know. I wouldn’t have cared if you showed up to the wedding in a clown suit.”

“A clown?” Gaara held onto his anger as well as he could, but his defenses were not made to withstand Naruto’s earnest kindness. “Is that what you think of me?”

“No! Of course not! You wouldn’t even be funny in a clown suit... kind of creepy, actually—“

“Creepy!”

Naruto chuckled, shaking his head as if to the silly gallivanting of a child. “Maybe to other people, but not to me. But you gotta admit— you’d be creepy to anyone in a clown suit’ttebayo.”

Gaara rolled fully around to face him, giving Naruto his scrutiny. “You don’t think I’m creepy?”

“Naw.” Naruto’s wink befuddled him, before he placed it as a friendly gesture associated with confidence— Kankurou had explained it to him once. “A long time ago, maybe. But now? You’re the un-creepiest guy I know.”

Propping himself on his elbow, Gaara was pleased, but refused to show it. “Temari insisted I wear the dress. She said you’d like it.”

Naruto scratched at his whisker marks, eyes suddenly finding everything but Gaara interesting. “I did like it. Dattebayo.”

Eyebrows coming together, Gaara asked, “Is that why you are so perturbed by my dislike of it? You... like it when I wear women’s clothing?”

Naruto chuckled briefly, but it was more nervous than a humorous release. “It’s not that— well, not really.”

He was quiet for a long time, as Gaara continued to look at him expectantly. “Then what is it really?” Gaara prompted at last.

Sighing, Naruto looked straight at him before answering. “It made it... easier. It felt more— more normal.”

“Me in a wedding dress is more normal.” Gaara reiterated skeptically.

“No! That’s not what I—“ Naruto scratched at his whiskers, blue eyes in turmoil. “It’s just, I’ve had this dream all my life— well, not all my life, but for a really long time— and... you’re not a girl, y’know?”

“Biologically speaking—“

“Yeah, yeah! Biologically whatever, I don’t care. What I’m saying is... keeping at least a part of that dream, even if everything else—“ Naruto waved his hands at the length of Gaara’s body. “is different. It’s easier.”

Gaara bit his lip, feeling that familiar fear grow again. Would loneliness hound him even here? “Are you saying... I cannot be a part of that dream?”

Naruto blinked at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, before grinning suddenly. “Gaara, you are the dream. It’s just a little different. It’s the changing it that’s hard.”

Now Gaara was confused. “I’m the dream?”

“Yeah, version two-point-Oh’ttebayo.”

“Naruto, that makes no sense.”

The blonde just laughed, as if that was the punch line. “Maybe. But to me— I think I’ve figured it out. I never needed a girl in the first place— just someone. And you’re way more than just someone’ttebayo.”

The furnace burned hot on his back, but could not compare to the sudden flare in Gaara’s chest. Gaara may have been lost as to the meaning of Naruto’s words, but the message was clear: he was special. “You need me?”

Naruto scratched his cheek, blushing shyly, but there was a directness in his gaze that spoke of his utmost confidence in his words. “Yeah, Gaara. Just like becoming Hokage, you’re part of my dream.”

Gaara knew how important the Hokage position was to Naruto— it was something he had ranted about almost constantly since his childhood. The idea that Gaara stood even on equal ground with that ambition in Naruto’s heart sent a giddy flutter through his ribcage.

He stared at this man— his best friend, Uzumaki Naruto, Rokudaime Hokage, fellow Jinchuuriki, husband— who needed him. Who wanted him badly enough to pledge a lifetime to him.

And within himself, Gaara realized with a little gasp a new sort of need arising. It was no secret that Gaara needed Naruto on many levels. He had been the one to pull him back from the brink of insanity in his childhood, and to subsequently hold that hard-won clarity together for him throughout his difficult years as Kazekage in a hostile political environment. He had even needed Naruto to save his life on some occasions, and in a certain case, to give it back.

His need for Naruto already so great and varied— be it emotional, spiritual, mortal, social, or whatever— Gaara was relatively unsurprised when Naruto’s heartfelt words awoke in him a need of a different variety. He should have realized it was there all along really, what with the shivery delight he had discovered in Naruto’s arms only that morning and the night before, but only now did it rear its head prominently enough for Gaara, as inexperienced as he was with such things, to recognize it.

So Gaara did the only thing he could manage— he fulfilled that newly acknowledged need, and to do so he climbed down into his blonde’s lap and kissed the living daylights out of him.