Dreaming of S(atisfaction), (2016-10-31)

Without the sun, the desert is cold at night.

In the morning they’d wake with legs intertwined. Blankets twisted and tangled around them both, as if, in sleep, they try to tie themselves together.

Don’t leave, their limbs say, when their mouths stay closed.

But the sun brings light, and with it heat and work.

They unravel back into two, patiently waiting until the cold returns.

Tea is different in the Land of Wind, spicier and darker than what she grew up on.

In the Kazekage’s office, when she asks for it diluted, Jinzo admonishes, “Like a child.”

She blushes every time, embarrassment painted on her cheeks.

But at home, Gaara steeps her cup for less time than his, and includes a small creamer jug of milk though, no doubt, the practice must seem bizarre.

In exchange, she makes sure the snacks that accompany their tea aren’t all sweets.

It starts with a drawer, filled with some things. Extra sets of clothes, a journal, some pens she’s left behind.

Then a shelf for the knickknacks she’s picked up over time, a sparse collection bracketed by scrolls and books.

She has Hammerspace, but it just makes sense to leave some things out: an extra toothbrush and a small dish of stray hair pins in the bathroom, a sturdy cup that she liked the look and feel of in the kitchen, a blanket in familiar Nara green draped over the back of the couch.

She has more than just one drawer, now.

The market place is where most of the culture shock happens, though it’s hardly a bad thing.

The smallest things will catch her attention, and the merchants are more than willing to indulge questions. Surprisingly, it’s not even because those questions are almost always accompanied with purchase.

She has long since stopped being intruder, turned into guest. And maybe, one day, a resident.

When she comes to Sand, she doesn’t stay at an inn anymore.

It becomes a routine, to drop in on Gaara at the office at least once throughout the day, never mind that she doesn’t always have an official reason to be there.

Mostly, her visits are quick things, a couple minutes squeezed in between meetings, Jinzo eyeing her with scrutiny.

She knows he’s busy, doesn’t want to take up too much time, but she thinks he appreciates it when she shows up.

Gaara invites her to dinner, unusual but far from unwanted. Normally, she’d have an Akimichi’s suggestion on which restaurants are good, but that’s not really an option here.

Kankurou snorts when she tells him, rolls his eyes and mutters about oblivious Leaf nin; he doesn’t explain.

Oh, she thinks, a few hours later, seated across from Gaara and strenuously ignoring all the stares from the other patrons.

She would’ve preferred a heads up, but the evening isn’t entirely awkward after her realization.

Shikako looks at the Village Hidden in the Sand and thinks: It’s not home… 

… but it could be.


A/N: For anonymous who wanted some ‘the moment they realize their relationship is more than “just friends"’ and instead got some… whatever this is. Reverse order, slice of life, snapshots.

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