Archive of Our Own

It was hot. It was hot and it was dry. It was hot and it was dry and it was empty . The playground, that is. It had had other kids there at first. A chubby boy, a boy with red triangles on his face, a boy with a ponytail. And they were having fun. Or so he thought. And then their parents came and took them all away. Now he sat there on the scorching swing digging at the wood mulch under his feet. What the chubby boy’s dad had said rang through his ears like a bell.

“Hangout with him again, and you’ll turn out wrong ”  

Why? What was he that was so terrible that could corrupt another kid? Why couldn’t that play with him? What was so wrong with him?

The gate to the playground jingled. He looked up from his swing to see another boy standing there. “You should leav- leave now” he called out, not wanting to get the other boy in trouble “You parent will- won’t want you hanging out with me, I’ll, I’ll make you wrong ” the word tasted bitter on his tongue.

The other boy did not heed his warning. He strode right up to him and bent down looking him dead in the eye. He was too close. His piercing blue eyes brought up a wave of nervousness in the back of Gaara's throat. The boy stared at him for another tantalizing moment before scrunching up his nose. “Why?! You don’t look wrong to me” he said so loud that it made Garra sink back.

In a small voice, keeping his eyes on the wooden mulch, he tried to egg the boy away again. “All the old people say it. So you should leave before your parents come and get you”

“Hah!” the boy said, straightening up and pointing to himself “I don’t have parents! So I can do whatever I want, hmph!” he pointed to Gaara “Even if that means playing with you!”

Gaara brought his eyes back up to the boy. His blond hair looked almost golden in the falling sunlight and the crooked goggles on his head made a halo of reflected light. “You want to play with me?” he asked.

“Of course!” the boy replied. “Who else do you see out here?”

“But w-”

“Come on come on!” he interjected “Let’s play ninja games no more questions!”

Gaara bit his lip and squeezed on the chains to the swing. He shut his eyes till he saw stars before opening them again. He looked all around them before turning his eyes back to the boy grinning back at him. Yeah, he was still there. This was still real. “Okay,” he agreed.

That seemed to brighten up the boy. He jumped and pounded his fist in the air. “Ha! Let’s go!” He turned around and made a beeline back out of the gate.

Gaara ran to catch up with him. “Wait where are we going?”

“You can’t play ninja games in such an open place,” he explained. “Plus I found this awesome place in the woods the other day”

“Okay”

The golden boy led him out and into the woods before going into a small clearing with a hollowed-out log in the middle. Daisies sprouted from the ground marking the area. Sunlight made a perfect circle and felt nice against the cool of the trees. Tiny diamonds of light specked the rest of the woods. “It's amazing isn’t it,” the golden boy said smiling a thousand times brighter than the sun.

“Yeah, it is,” Gaara replied.

“Do you want to count or hide first?” he asked.

“Hide”

“Awww! I wanted to hide!” The look the golden boy had on his face was not right at all. The way his eyes fell and lips turned downwards caused an uneasy swirl down in Gaara's stomach. 

“I can count actually! If you wanted to-“ he tried to say.

“No no no!” the boy said, waving his hands in front of his face. “I asked you first so you get to decide. Now go hide go!” he ordered.

“But-”

“Nope! I don’t take back my words so I’m counting and there’s nothing you can do about now go hide go hide!” The golden boy sat down in a huff and began counting to one hundred. He got to thirty-five before Gaara decided he wasn’t going to stop.

He ran from the clearing and found a nice looking bush. Behind him, he could hear the golden boy reach one hundred. He broke off into a sprint for the bush before tripping and falling over to his knees. He turned to scold the perpetrator for his tumble. A pitiful looking green bud grinned back up at him from the ground. An inkling of the tip of a blue petal could be seen. He gingerly leaned over to fix it, but his finger just ghosted over it before two hands found their way to his shoulders, and a loud “I found youu!” rang throughout the woods.

He jumped at the sudden touch and the golden boy next to him toppled over in laughter. “You’re not good at this are you!” he laughed “You can’t play ninja games and hide right if you’re looking at the flowers!”

“I- I was run- running and I- I fell…” he trailed off still keeping his vision trained on the bud.

“Hah? What did you say?”

Gaara’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “I...I” he tried.

“Hey!” The golden boy took each side of Gaara’s face in his hands. “My face is here!” he directed and released his face.

“I was running to that bush and then I tripped over the flower” he shot out, ripping out the sandpaper.

“Hah? Well then” he stood up and dusted off his pants “All you have to do is get back up,” he said holding out his hand. The diamonds of light sprinkled through the trees gave the boy an eternal look. Somewhere deep in the woods, a flock of birds took flight. The wind dusted his nose, already red from the pollen and his cheeky grin radiated through it all. 

“Y-yeah,” he said, grabbing the hand held out to him. The golden boy pulled him up with far too much force and before they knew it, they toppled onto the ground again. This time, when the golden boy giggles, Gaara joins him.

The moment is broken by a loud “Gaara-sama!” piercing through the air and the sound of heavy footsteps. “Gaara-sama,” they say “What are you doing all the way out here? The boss needs you” And suddenly golden boy is too close again. His giggles that have yet to die down are a deafening melody and the diamonds of light are blinding.

The golden boy must sense this because he puts himself in between the two. “I’m his friend so you have to go through me first!” he shouted, puffing out his chest.

“And who are you?” the intruder asks, blocking out the sun with their height and shrouding the boys in darkness.

“Uzumaki Naruto! And you have to go through me first if you want my friend! he says with such vigor that for a second Gaara believes he isn’t wrong . Not if a person as golden as Uzumaki Naruto can call him his friend .

//

It was warm. It was so so warm. And it doesn’t make any sense. He is standing outside in February and his balls are about to freeze off and all he can think about is the warmth of the lips on his and the eyelashes dusting his cheeks. 

He peeled open his eyes to meet eyes the color of blue silk flowers. A grin crept its way onto his lips. “You supposed to keep your eyes closed ” his boyfriend whispered.

It wasn’t his first kiss and definitely would not be his last. But it’s everything . Right there under the blinking halo of the streetlight in the chill of winter Gaara feels everything . Every glance, every moment, every emotion he’s ever felt being by Uzumaki Naruto’s side, he feels it all. And the only way he can describe it is golden .

He feels them walking hand in hand out of the woods all those years ago. The prickles from the sun caused goosebumps on his neck. The warmth from their hands together. The sound of their footsteps in the grass.

He feels the first day of middle school when Naruto barreled into school, late, and passed him the skittles he stole from the vending machine. The buzz of the school lights. The teacher scolds them in the background. “Monster Boys” she called them. And for the first time, he feels something other than hate and fear at the branding. 

He feels the static sensation from being slammed against the wall. The stabbing feeling in his chest when he looked into the ocean that was his best friend's eyes. The punctured growl saying “You not the only one who loves you” . The hollowed-out feeling he was left with as he watched the orange sweatshirt walk farther and farther away. 

He felt everything and it all felt golden. He let the feeling flow down his cheeks as the one he admired pulled him closer. The brush of the zipper on his sweatshirt, the gentle rumble of his chuckle, the hot puffs of breath defending against the winter chill. This was everything . And he was still too close, or maybe this is how close he was always meant to be.