Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

People have always taken Gaara seriously.

By societally acceptable standards, seriously may be an understatement. As a child, people were scared of him. As Kazekage, people are scared of him still, but they must also respect him. Consequently, while his siblings have grown more comfortable with speaking their minds in his presence, few others have, especially not in Suna.

At first, Gaara didn’t think he cared. He was fine with how people treated him, being an official in a position of power. He didn’t need them to doubt his orders or his sincerity. If a touch of fear incentivized them to do their job, then Gaara was not going to complain about it. Perhaps under his rule, bureaucratic efficiency may become a real thing rather than just a joke.

However, while being Kazekage during wartime was in many ways draining, being Kazekage during peacetime was boring.

It made Gaara think about how others occupied their free time, how socializing was a large part of that, a department in which he lacked. That much he knew, and Gaara was older now, more willing to admit his faults and take necessary steps to rectify them.

So, he consulted a book.

A lot of it, while logical, turned out to be poor in application.

See, Gaara didn’t understand the point of small talk. The attempts he made mostly got him strange side glances, which only served to prove his point. There was no point in falsifying interest in people he didn’t know, so he chose not to. He didn’t care for asking unnecessary follow-ups for the sake of continuing a conversation, nor did he believe letting the conversation end where it may aids much in furthering a relationship. Most of it was professional anyway, and Gaara was beginning to think he perhaps held no interest in getting to know his subordinates—in essence, the entirety of Suna—on a personal level at all.

Especially not when he tried the advice about sharing about himself, which mostly received stunned looks of disbelief and horror, essentially the very definition of a conversation stopper when Gaara doesn’t immediately continue with a ‘just kidding,’ the way others have done to him to various levels of success in the past. It doesn’t take long for Gaara to realize that sharing details about himself to people who didn’t understand his past was a mistake.

Which left the last piece of advice, humour—which undoubtedly had the worst reception of them all, especially when 1) people didn’t seem to understand that he was joking and 2) they were then put on the spot to either laugh at the Kazekage or not laugh at the Kazekage.

So Gaara withdrew back to his siblings, who didn’t have a problem telling him he wasn’t funny. That was enough confirmation for him, and it reaffirmed the truth for Gaara: creating brand new bonds was difficult, and perhaps he should refocus his attention to strengthening existing ones.

The book had advice on that too. Very detailed advice. Advice that Gaara felt he could actually emulate for once.

So he read it over, thought about it, and then he got to work.

Social interactions were difficult because there were expectations baked into them, expectations that Gaara had never been privy to before, expectations that he didn’t much care for now. He had defied convention his entire life, and never had he felt like anything in particular was missing. However, reading about why people sought after what seemed to be the gold standard in social interactions made Gaara curious.

So he tried the method that was both the most practical and best suited for his purposes—writing a letter.

Letters were good in their simplicity. It gave Gaara ample time to put thoughts to paper and then muse about how his words could be perceived, the way it’d be too late to if it was an in-person conversation. It wouldn’t be permanently out of his hands until he sent it, but permanent enough to be examined by others for appropriateness in the exact state it would be read.

Which is why Gaara comes to speak with Temari and Kankuro, explaining that he wants their help proofreading a letter he’s about to send.

“You have people you’ve hired for that exact job, Gaara,” Temari sighs. “Besides, you’re good at writing mission briefs and stuff like that by now, right? You were never the type to mince words.”

Gaara nods. “Correct. However, my understanding is that this particular style of letter correspondence would need more of a personal touch, of which I’m less familiar with.”

“A…personal touch?” Kankuro raises an eyebrow, Gaara’s words evidently having aroused his curiosity as he cuts into the conversation. “What kind of letter are you trying to send there, little bro?”

“A personal one,” Gaara responds just as vaguely. “To a friend that I’d like to become closer to, if he is amenable to it.”

His older siblings share a look. It’s one that Gaara notices occasionally, usually followed by a continued line of tag-team questions that Gaara never manages to predict the trajectory of correctly.

“Who are you writing this to?” Temari asks him, just as Kankuro snatches said letter out of Gaara’s hand. Strange. Maybe they’re out of sync today.

Before Gaara can even open his mouth to answer his sister or protest the action (although there was not much point, he did come here to ask them to read it after all), Temari’s already turned away from him, having migrated towards Kankuro’s side on the couch. In the meantime, the room falls silent. Gaara watches his siblings read his letter, both of them with matching blank expressions.

Fine, he’ll just wait until they’re done to speak again. Perhaps he won’t even need to; they should know the answer to their question already. The first two words on the page are a dead giveaway.

It isn’t a short letter, contrary to the briefing scrolls and contractual seals that often makes its way to Gaara’s office. But it isn’t long either. Despite that, both Temari and Kankuro are taking their time with it, re-reading it from the start after getting to the end, and then again.

Then, they share that look again, before turning their gazes back towards Gaara.

Temari’s expression softens his way, the way it does right before she’s about to tell him something unpleasant. In contrast, Kankuro starts laughing.

She immediately glares at him, hissing something under her breath. Looking unfazed, he throws his hands up in mock surrender, gesturing for her to go first. They were off-balance today, which is likely a bad sign regarding the state of his letter.

“Gaara, your letter doesn’t need more of a personal touch,” she begins to say, “but are you aware of how its contents may be taken?”

The tentativeness of her voice raises Gaara’s internal alert level ever so slightly. He must have said something he didn’t mean to; this is why it’s best to consult his siblings on this.

“Everything I wrote was truthful. It is more…detailed and heartfelt than my usual style, but the book I consulted mentioned that in lieu of a face to face visit, you have to convey your feelings in length, by way of proving your sincerity,” he answers, keeping his tone even.

The remnants of his laugh disappear off Kankuro’s face when Temari groans, pointing one finger towards him in accusation.

“Kankuro, did you—?”

“Oh hey, don’t look at me! Unfortunately, this was not my brilliant plan.” Kankuro whistles coolly. “Although my curiosity has been quite piqued. Ahem, Gaara, did you happen to skip over the part where the book laid out how this is about using letters to uh, romance someone?”

Gaara blinks. “No. I did read that, but I don’t see any problems with using their guidance to write to Lee.”

“So, you…do want to romance Lee?” Temari croaks, her jaw about an inch lower than average.

“It is a very common and desired form of social interaction with someone you care strongly for, is it not?” Gaara questions in return. “And Lee fits the criteria. We are close, we have history, he understands me, and I him. Romantic entanglement is said to only elevate those foundational feelings.”

“Y-yes, I’m aware that you and Lee are good friends,” Temari stammers. She’s clearly trying her best to sound patient, but the lines on her face temporarily betrays her. “But there…there are more mechanics to a romantic relationship than just…understanding each other better. I know we’ve never actually talked about dating in detail, or marriage and kids and all that stuff. Me and Kankuro always figured you weren’t interested, but if…if you are, I just—Gaara, I don’t want you to misunderstand it, or have Lee misunderstand your intentions.”

She sounds awfully distraught over this. That wasn’t Gaara’s intention at all. He should probably clarify himself.

“This is just an exploratory question of interest. I don’t have more intentions than gauging his mutual interest for now, because you’re right that I was never interested in romance before. However, having never tried, and based off the benefits and the drawbacks I’m currently aware of, I believe I’d like to find out,” Gaara replies honestly.

“W-with Bowl Cut?” Kankuro joins in, eyes wide in disbelief and looking mismatched with his makeup. “Gaara, hey, hey, think twice about what you’re saying. Actually, show us that book of yours first, I want to see what exactly you’ve been reading…”

“I think Gaara has thought about this,” Temari quietly admits. “You like Lee, enough to do ask him out. It’s…well, I suppose there is no harm in dating.”

Kankuro sputters, waving his hands in front of Temari’s face like she was missing something critically important. “Uhm, yes, but how about the rest of it? The…god, I’m not giving him the talk, Temari!”

Gaara stares at them both. He may be the youngest, and he may have had a misguided sense of love and affection and how people are supposed to treat each other growing up. But he was working on that now. This was part of that. Much of it fell into the category of Gaara being aware of it, yet deciding he was either unable or uninterested in applying it to himself. The concept of physical intimacy was one of those things.

“That is at the end of what I assume is a long journey,” he says flatly, ignoring the way Kankuro’s face flows from relief to confusion to an impressive impassiveness. “I am only concerned about step one right now. The rest will come later, if it does.”

Gaara thinks back to the book and its guiding questions for determining who to write to. Granted, Gaara did not exhaust the entire universe of people he knew in his analysis, nor does he discount the fact that others he hasn’t yet met may fit these criteria someday. Nevertheless, Lee was the person who came to mind first, and he checked most of the boxes off with ease, a feat in itself.

“So,” Gaara clears his throat and tries again. “Given that, any advice you have about my letter would be welcomed.”

In the end, Gaara doesn’t get any feedback on his letter, none that was meaningful, anyway. The reaction he received wasn’t great, but it appeared to be more about the intention of his letter rather than the content itself, the former of which Gaara had no interest in fixing.

So, without any other recourses available to him for improving said letter, Gaara sends it off.

Gaara is a busy man, that much goes without saying. As Kazekage, he wields a great deal of power and responsibility. He may still be young, but it didn’t take him long to figure out what he most needed to succeed—to compartmentalize, delegate, and take things exactly as seriously as they deserved to be.

So after he sends the letter, Gaara didn’t give more thought on the matter. It was a letter—not too long, not too short, as the book advised—and it had taken him some time to draft it himself, so he assumed it would be some time before he heard back. The fact that weeks go by without a return letter never registers to him as a problem until he’s scheduled for a diplomatic visit to Konoha, nearly two months later, and Kankuro makes a passing joke about it.

“Oh,” says Gaara blankly, catching Kankuro’s drift. “Yes, I did send it.”

Kankuro gapes at him, mouth slightly hanging open.

“Did you change anything before you…wait, when did you…did he…” his eyebrows scrunch up, his brain visibly coursing down varying tangents of thought. From experience, Gaara knows that never ends well.

Kankuro coughs twice and then manages to reset himself, throwing his incomplete sentences out the window. “Uhm, what did he say?”

Gaara straightens his spine and wraps up the scroll he was just working on, setting it aside. “He didn’t. I never received anything back.”

Kankuro’s frown deepens, a sense of nervous energy vibrating in the air.

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Should it?”

“Well, usually people get freaked out over that kind of thing, being rejected! Not that I want you to freak out or anything, I mean, he was probably busy, or misunderstood your message, or got lost by the courier!”

Gaara never thought about all those other potential scenarios before, but Kankuro had a point. So, he agrees with him.

“Right,” he says, turning his attention to the next pile of papers that required stamping.

“Right what?” Kankuro questions, still standing in front of his desk.

“Right. Probably one of those things you said.”

“You’re really taking my excuses at face value?”

That had also never occurred to Gaara, the fact that Kankuro could be making excuses in the first place. But his brother also wasn’t Lee, so he wouldn’t know one way or another. Gaara wouldn’t hold that against him. “Should I not?”

“I…Yeah, sure, go for it,” Kankuro sighs loudly, rolling his shoulders back like a huge weight has been lifted off them. “So, are you going to ask him about it when you get to Konoha?”

It was good timing, now that Kankuro mentioned it.

“That’s a good idea. It will be better to talk to him in person. I was advised letter writing helps you gather all your thoughts coherently, but tonally, it is always best delivered by voice,” Gaara muses out loud, nodding twice to himself. “Thank you, Kankuro.”

“Uh, no problem at all. Go get’em I guess, and make sure to tell me all about it afterward,” he cracks a playful smile Gaara’s way. That was more like it.

In Gaara’s opinion, diplomatic trips to Konoha are the least cumbersome by far. It was nearly the closest to Suna by distance and it goes without saying that they’ve enjoyed a good relationship in recent years. It was, in many ways, a self-fulfilling prophecy, as their good relationship meant further deals and meetings, which only perpetuated the number of times Gaara came to Konoha on official business. It was fine though, all part of the job. And whenever he did have the time, he enjoyed the opportunity to spend time with Naruto—and with Lee.

Dealing with Kakashi is different than dealing with Tsunade, neither of which is Gaara’s preferred style if he had to admit it, but both were vastly superior to dealing with the Raikage on a bad day, so Gaara was fine with it at the end of the day. It was just part of the job, even if hashing out the details was, on the best of days, terribly tedious.

Today is one of those days.

The paperwork talk goes on for longer than Gaara expects, especially given it was Kakashi he was dealing with. Kakashi had delegated most of the annoying parts of the deal into the future, as per usual. However, each action item required some detailed discussions ahead of time anyway, which made the whole thing feel almost pointless when nothing actually gets confirmed by the end.

The bright side was that none of the issues were notably urgent, and he did need further advisement before inking the deal—so as annoying as the process was, it was also inescapable. The rest was more earmarked for Temari’s eyes rather than his own, so Gaara jots down some potentially problematic sections for dispute and files it away with the rest of his documents.

“So, half-year?” Kakashi asks breezily, leaning back in his chair. “That enough time?”

Gaara nods firmly. “Plenty. I may schedule something in sooner if it mutually benefits us.”

“Great! Now that we’re off the clock, I know Naruto always complains about you not visiting more often, not to say that should be the main consideration or anything, but you should give him a shout next time.”

“He knows I’m here?”

“Might’ve let it slip,” Kakashi answers, his visible eye glinting with amusement. “I know you enjoy your unannounced visits, but you also know how Naruto gets.”

“…I didn’t realize that bothered him,” Gaara says after a long pause. “I should alert him in advance next time, you mean.”

Kakashi flicks a finger his way. “Bingo. He knows you’re busy, but common courtesy is nice.”

It’s true that Gaara’s never felt the need to be outwardly courteous or formal when it came to his and Naruto’s friendship. The fact that he had put in the effort with Lee was more a testament to Naruto’s insistence and comfort with Gaara than Lee, though Gaara was aware that Lee was more polite than most.

Kakashi was not wrong in that he usually pays Naruto a visit when he’s in town. It never bothered him when timing didn’t line up for them because the life of a shinobi is inherently unpredictable. But perhaps that shouldn’t stop him from, as Kakashi puts it, exercising common courtesy, and figuring out what that might encompass.

It might be a good idea to speak with Naruto on the subject and find out exactly how Naruto had breached that level of comfort with him, and how to maybe get there with Lee.

“I understand,” Gaara answers with a slight bow before excusing himself. “Thank you, we’ll be in touch.”

Inviting Naruto out for dinner was a familiar affair, a simple uninvited knock on the door which had promptly swung open. Naruto was consistently enthusiastic to see him, paired with a beaming smile and a voice a few decibels too high. Regardless, over the years, Gaara had gradually come to classify his own reaction as fondness. He feels the corner of his lip twitch upwards slightly in response.

“Same place?”

Naruto nods with a grin. “You always know me so well, Gaara!”

“It’s hard not to,” Gaara replies automatically, at least when it comes to this. “7’o clock, then.”

“Awh, I’m flattered. See you then!”

That brings Gaara to their usual ramen restaurant, their go-to place whenever Gaara visited Konoha. It was such an established routine at this point that the owner, Aki, had finally gotten over his ‘I’m serving ramen to the Kazekage’ anxiety jitters. These days, he seems even somewhat comfortable in Gaara’s presence.

Gaara isn’t sure how regulars here are usually treated—he’s never been a regular anywhere else—but he supposes it likely goes something like this. Tonight, Aki greets him with a small wave, gesturing him towards the corner table where he and Naruto usually sits.

“Thank you,” Gaara says politely, and takes his seat two minutes early.

Naruto rushes into the restaurant a few minutes later. As if his presence alone isn’t declaration enough, he calls out Gaara’s name clamorously the second they make eye contact. It’s an unnecessary (but nice) gesture, and Gaara nods in his direction in a silent greeting.

“You should’ve told me you were coming by, Gaara,” Naruto starts off saying, accompanied with a frown. “I’m not against the surprise visits, but weaseling information out of Kakashi-sensei by accident was traumatizing. Don’t make me do that again.”

“I come to Konoha fairly regularly. You wouldn’t have missed me for long,” Gaara answers simply.

Naruto chuckles, probably at the unintended double meaning that Gaara only catches onto a few seconds after.

“I know, I know. I appreciate you always making time to say hi though. Like I know your schedule’s packed ‘cause you actually do a lot of your job yourself, unlike—,” he cuts himself off sheepishly and then twists casually around to wave towards Aki’s counter. “Our usuals, please?”

He gives Naruto a thumbs up. “Kazekage-sama, care to try anything new tonight?”

Gaara shakes his head.

“Not today, thank you.”  

“Alright, coming right up!”

Naruto grins brightly, then turns his attention back to Gaara. “Oh yeah, what was I saying?”

“That I do my job as Kazekage, unlike—”

“Right! Don’t tell him I said that,” Naruto protests with a lopsided smile.

“Because you’re after his job?” Gaara asks dryly.

“Not just that, but anyway, what brings you in this time?”

A seemingly innocuous question, except coming from Naruto, it comes across as suspicious. “You never want to hear about that, Naruto.”

“Of course not about the boring paperwork stuff!” Naruto exclaims, folding his arms together in annoyance. “I thought there might be another reason for your visit that you could’ve given me a heads up for, you know, as friends.”

Gaara blinks at him.

“Kakashi-san did mention that I should give you notice for my visits going forward as a courtesy. I agree he has a point, so I will try my best going forward to do so. However, I don’t understand what you’re insinuating. This visit was scheduled months in advance by the Kazekage’s office as a convenient date for both parties to discuss diplomatic envoy staffing and—”

Naruto groans, pressing one hand to his temple. “Gaara, not that stuff! Urgh, okay, I’ll cut right to the chase, because I’ve been dying to know ever since Bushy Brows told me.” He leans in, his blues eyes lit up slyly. “What in the world made you write him that letter?”

Oh. Naruto knows about the letter.

Well, that makes things even easier.

“Lee lives in Konoha, and I live in Suna. Given the distance and the circumstances, it was suggested that I convey my feelings through mail,” Gaara replies by way of explanation.

Naruto simply stares at him, silently, which is a rare event even for when he wasn’t eating. Gaara decides to wait for his response, but when more than a minute passes by, he’s certain something is off.

“Naruto?”

Shaking his head rapidly in disbelief, Naruto exhales a few times in rapid succession. “I’m sorry, uhm, you were trying to convey your, your…” he squints, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “You could’ve, wait, no—okay, sorry, don’t blame Lee for this, well actually, he did end up showing quite—oh geez, how do I say this?”

Gaara cocks his head.

“By speaking words. More comprehensibly, if that’s possible,” he tells Naruto, and then gives him a small smile in encouragement.

It kind of does the trick. Naruto visibly relaxes, but then he follows that up with a sigh.

“Okay, I’ll just say it then. Uh, I read your letter. So did a lot of us, actually. I mean, he said he was still really stumped and was clearly desperate by the time he got to asking me, which I’m a little offended by—I think I give great love advice!”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” says Gaara flatly.

“Story for next time! Point is, wait—” Realization sweeps across his face, shifting from shock to disbelief to muted awe. “You’re not disputing me. I said love advice. Regarding your letter.”

“Right,” Gaara replies without pause.

Naruto’s eyes boggle, his irises dilating.

“So, it, it was a love letter? No way, I was so sure that Sakura was dead wrong about that, that you were just doing your whole…” he frowns. “Or that it wasn’t meant to be taken that way. But, Gaara, shit, I’m not gonna just take—hey, you have to say it. It was a love letter?”

Gaara shakes his head. “No. I’m not in love with Lee, so I don’t believe that’s what it is.”

“That’s not what—the letter read like you were trying to ask Lee out, in a weird, roundabout, and strangely…romantic way!” Naruto shouts.

“That’s more or less what Temari told me.”

“And?!”

“That doesn’t mean I love him. I know that my understanding of that word has been warped in the past,” says Gaara, his tone lower than usual from the faintly resurfacing memories. “Lee and I are good friends. I wrote the letter to see if he would be interested in improving upon that friendship.”

Naruto’s jaw drops. “We’re good friends too. Would you write that kind of letter to me? Okay, that’s not really what I meant by giving me notice next time you’re in town, Gaara.”

“I like our friendship the way it is, Naruto. I wouldn’t have written you such a letter.”

“That’s a little hurtful…I think? Now I’m not even sure if I’m reading this whole thing right,” Naruto groans, bringing both hands to his head and shaking it back and forth as if he’d be able to shake out some sort of meaning. “I’m so freaking lost. You want to be better friends with Lee? Is that what that was all about?”

Gaara nods. “He fits much of the criteria the book talked about, but it was recommended to ease into those topics as we go along if our interests align.”

“Our…interests?” Naruto gapes. “Uhm, what…what kind of interests would you be talking about there, Gaara? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Lee’s a great guy! And so are you! But I’m…I’m, are you sure?  You’ve never cared about romance for as long as I’ve known you! And I’ve talked your ear off a lot on the topic before.”

“That’s true. I have no experience on the subject, but neither does Lee. I’m under the impression that would help, starting from scratch with no expectations. My understanding of romance is lackluster at best,” Gaara admits.

Naruto stares at him again, wordlessly, long enough that two bowls of ramen are quietly placed in front of each of them and Naruto doesn’t even move to grab his chopsticks.

“You’re really serious here, huh?” he questions rhetorically at last.

“People always take me seriously,” says Gaara in response. “It is strange, not being taken seriously for once.”

That gets a laugh out of Naruto, who finally reaches for his chopsticks.

“I suppose I gotta say congratulations on, well, confusing the lot of us, but also being brave enough to do this in the first place,” Naruto grins. “It’s kind of a big deal, usually, so I hope it works out for you, man! Oh, and tell Bushy Brows I was wrong when you go talk to him. You are going to, right?”

Gaara nods stiffly.

“Yes. I wanted to ask him about his response, since I didn’t receive one back by letter.”

“Because he spent most of the past few weeks freaking out over what the hell to say back!” Naruto shouts, whistling under his breath. “I’m sure the in-person explanation would help him out quite a bit, actually.”

“It helped you,” Gaara states.

“It definitely clarified things, so it’d probably help Lee too when you two hash things out, though that’s between you and—nah, wait, I kind of want to hear about it afterward. Could you tell me, Gaara? Lee doesn’t really seem like the type to kiss and tell.”

Gaara blinks a few times at the unfamiliar expression. “Tell you what, exactly?”

“How things go! You know, how Lee takes it, that kind of deal. I’ll tell you to stop if you get too graphic with the details,” Naruto says cheerily, making a face.

“Sure,” Gaara agrees. That sounds perfectly reasonable, to share life details with a friend.

Naruto’s expression brightens, even more so when he stares down at his steaming bowl of ramen. He claps his hands.

“Awesome! Then, finally, itadakimasu!”

Gaara mimics Naruto’s actions, bowing, his palms pressed together.

“Itadakimasu.”

The rest of the evening with Naruto goes swimmingly. Gaara’s bowl of ramen tastes as good as he remembers, and the topic of Lee gets brushed aside—for the most part. Naruto keeps the conversation chugging along effortlessly. It’s a little illogical how he always manages to have a new exciting (and oftentimes dangerous or unbelievable) story to tell. It isn’t always objectively exciting, but Naruto makes it seem like it is. It reminds Gaara that despite the easygoing way that Naruto approaches life, he was also very much a capable shinobi.

It also makes Gaara miss the field a little, if for nothing else than getting a change of pace from the mundanity office. However, he does understand why that is not something he should hope for, because missions that do need him were not something he wished upon Suna, even on the rarest of occasions.

Naruto raises an eyebrow in confusion when Gaara follows him in the same direction leaving the restaurant.

“I thought your usual hotel was the other way?”

Gaara nods in agreement. “Yes, but Lee’s place is this way.”

Naruto snickers, smirking toothily.

“It’s so late, you’re really going to go do this now? He’s totally going to get the wrong idea!”

“…Which is?”

“Or…not! Forget I said anything.”

“Is it late at night for Lee? I often forget people do not sleep as little as I do,” Gaara follows up.

It was already dark out, but it was by no means a late night for him. Then again, the whole point of this may be the fact that his standards were not commonplace, and perhaps he was being disrespectful in his assumptions.

Naruto shakes his head vehemently.

“Not at all! Probably the opposite, you probably share that in common with Bushy Brows. He mostly functions off sheer force of will, you know? I doubt he’s an early sleeper, though he still manages to be an early bird still somehow…”

“That’s good to know. Thank you.”

A few minutes later, they arrive beneath Lee’s apartment. Gaara stares blankly at Naruto when he doesn’t immediately part ways, and by way of response, Naruto holds out his hand for a fist bump. The situation seems to be inappropriate compared to all the previous times he’s done this, but Naruto’s expectant look gets Gaara to return the gesture anyway, gently knocking their knuckles together. He then skips away from Gaara with a giant grin, mouthing the words ‘tell me tomorrow’ as he disappears out of sight.

Gaara isn’t sure if he will have anything of substance to tell Naruto tomorrow, which is what the other man seems to be expecting, but that’s fine. Somehow he gets the sense his definition of substantial may differ from Naruto’s own too.

Quietly, Gaara walks up the stairs and stops in front of Lee’s apartment door. It’s silent out, save for the occasional whistle of the wind, so he gives a double tap on the door with the back of his hand without much force.

A heartbeat of silence passes, and then Gaara hears a shuffle from the other side of the door, so brief that he almost thinks he imagined it when the door swings open. Lee stands on the other side, and his expression is unrecognizable for the fraction of a second before it flickers to life. His hair is a little in disarray, and he’s breathing harder than usual, because it’s a rare occasion to see Lee truly out of breath.

“Is this a bad time?”

“Oh. No! Uh, not at all, Kazekage-sama.” he sputters.

Gaara simply shoots him a look. They go through this every time. He needs little more than a firm stare Lee’s way to remind him of their familiarity now, but it still apparently bared repeating, given they saw each other two or three times a year at best.

“Sorry, Gaara-san, Gaara, uhm, I was not expecting you,” Lee continues, shooting him a lopsided—and if he wasn’t reading this incorrectly, nervous-looking—smile.

“If you are busy—” Gaara begins to say.

Lee shakes his head wildly.

“Not at all! I am all free! Comparatively to your schedule, I have all the time in the world! I apologize for not inviting you in first, Gaara, do come in.”

He takes two steps to the left, holding the door open for Gaara.

“Thank you, Lee.”

“Of course!” he exclaims, closing the door behind Gaara with a click. “I am sorry about the mess, I did not get a chance to clean things up lately, but make yourself comfortable as always.”

“I don’t see a mess,” Gaara says frankly, because he doesn’t.

Lee’s place has always been rather immaculate, at least the few times he’s been here. Yes, there’s some dust gathered on bookshelves and scattered notebooks on desks. Everything is not perfectly perpendicular nor lined up corner to wall, but that’s a design flaw that doesn’t seem to be on Lee’s list of things to change about his residence.

Besides, Gaara’s seen much worse; his office on a bad day, in fact, is much worse.

“Is here okay?” he asks, pointing to his usual chair by the couch.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lee answers loudly, dashing over to take a seat diagonal from him on the sofa. “Is there an emergency? I just want to be mindful of time if there’s an urgent issue that requires the beautiful green beast of Konoha’s immediate assistance—”

Gaara holds his hand up and Lee stops mid-sentence, mouth hanging open. It wasn’t intended to be such a straightforward command, so Gaara quickly withdraws it and watches Lee’s jaw somewhat loosen.

“Nothing of the sort. I went to see Naruto earlier tonight, and thought it would be best if I talked to you afterward in person,” he replies.

“O-oh,” Lee says, his eyes downcast for a second. “I mean, that’s great. I am truly relieved that there is no immediate danger to anyone! Is everything with Naruto okay?”

Gaara nods.

“He’s fine. He was the one who told me you were distraught over my letter. I came here to ask you why that is,” he says, and then seeing Lee’s face visibly pale at the words, Gaara clears his throat. It feels awkward; he didn’t expect to feel that way. “And explain my intentions, as I was told that might be in order.”

“O-oh,” Lee repeats, sinking deeper into his seat cushion, and then proceeding to readjust himself several times as if his own couch was suddenly uncomfortable.

That’s odd, Gaara notes, since Lee’s always been a big proponent for perfect posture. Yet right now, he appears to be incredibly jitterish.

That doesn’t cause either of them to continue talking, however. Lee is purposefully avoiding his gaze and it makes Gaara wonder if he should wait for Lee to get comfortable again. But after nearly two minutes pass by, Gaara decides that perhaps he needs to take the first step in diffusing the strange energy between them, one he was not used to.

“Is it okay if I start—”

“I am sorry!” Lee cries out all of a sudden, giving in and bowing down with his head in his hands. “I really meant to answer your heartfelt letter! I—I really wanted to, but I could not find the right words to express my emotions! And then I talked to Sakura-san, and she asked me what exactly I was trying to convey because, in her words, none of my drafts were very coherent. One thing led to another and I ended up showing her the letter! I deeply apologize for exposing your private thoughts to others!”

“Oh,” Gaara says mutely after a while.

He should feel upset over this, it seems, but Gaara didn’t feel that way. It was privately addressed to Lee, but the letter said nothing that he would be afraid to say to Haruno Sakura. It just wasn’t something he would have initiated telling her without a good reason, given they were not close and would likely never venture onto the topic.

“That’s why you asked Naruto for advice.”

“I normally trust Sakura-san’s advice a great deal!” Lee exclaims, looking up at last, his wide eyes slightly shaky when they finally meet Gaara’s. “But in this case, she said…she said that you seemed to be…interested in me, uhm, romantically. And I…I needed a second opinion, and a third, and maybe sixteen—because I really do value our friendship, and I would hate to misread any kind intentions you had towards me!”

Sixteen. His siblings have gotten it on the first read, but evidently, Lee needed sixteen people to convince him of the fact, and even that did not work out the way Gaara intended.

“You didn’t misread anything,” Gaara begins to say, and Lee freezes still in his seat. “I may have worded things unsatisfactorily, which I will improve upon next time, but Haruno-san is right.”

Lee blinks dumbly at him, jaw slack and baffled. “You mean to say, all that…Gaara, you want to get to know me better…romantically?”

The corner of Gaara’s mouth lifts a little in amusement.

“I believe it is called dating, in modern terms.”

“R-right! I know that!” Lee blurts out, and then groans, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Do you know what d-dating entails? I know last we spoke, you were working on widening your social repertoire, which I encouraged and offered my assistance with! But if that’s why, I would hate to mislead you regarding what that normally means,” his voice trailing off at the end.

“I know the generics,” Gaara answers simply. “I do not have any practical experience, which is why I sought you out.”

“So…you know it is usually between a man and a woman?” Lee asks quietly.

“Usually, but not mandatory. As are most dating courtship rituals, minus the intention to be in a romantic relationship together.”

“R-right. But, there are certain societal expectations, especially for someone of your stature as Kazekage, and to…to even think of dating a foreigner, much less a male shinobi, I…” Lee grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

“Are you not interested?” Gaara questions, cutting to the point. “It is okay if you are not. You do not need to feel pressured because of my position.”

Lee’s head jerks up as if he’s greatly disrespected Gaara already. “N-no! I mean, y-yes, no? I…I never know how to answer those indirect questions,” he murmurs awkwardly. “I mean to say, I don’t know if I can be. Your letter said such kind things about me, how…how I was the only person you knew right now who you’d want to do this with, which I am extremely flattered by.”

Lee blushes, a light tint of pink sweeping across his cheeks. Gaara doesn’t think he’s ever seen that on Lee’s face before. He’s flustered…by the truth of all things.

“I treasure our companionship very much, but I also have no practical experience. I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Lee finishes speaking, fiddling with his bandaged hands in his lap.

“I know. The book said that may be easier, actually.”

“W-what?”

“If we both have no experience. We can define things how we would like if that is your concern.”

“N-no, I mean, that sounds great!” Lee does sound more relieved at the sound of that. “I meant to ask about the book.”

“Yes, it helped me with the letter, although it didn’t garner the response I was looking for, or a response at all, for that matter.” Lee’s face turns red. “So perhaps I should rely less on it going forward.”

“I really did not mean to leave you hanging,” Lee hangs his head down. “Perhaps it was simply me overthinking things, because the alternative…well, again, I am incredibly flattered. But I did not want to misconstrue your feelings, whatever they may be.”

Gaara waits until Lee lifts his head, and then he speaks.

“You aren’t. I like you, Lee. Your presence is refreshing, you complement me, and sometimes you lead me to expand my horizons in ways I don’t dislike. You’re strong, and kind, and you mean a great deal to me. All things considered, my life would be much worse off without you. I would—and have fought for you, without holding back. I am incredibly flattered myself that you would consider my feelings something worth misconstruing.”

Lee gapes at him, face flushed and his mouth opening and shutting a few times before he finally forms audible words.

“I-Is that also from the book, Gaara?”

“Partially. It listed some common qualities people sought in a partner and I agreed with many of them when it came to you,” Gaara says. “That’s why I sent you the letter.”

Lee gulps, bringing a hand to cover his face. A small smile forms underneath, despite his obvious reservations.

“Right. I get it now. I…I feel similarly about you, Gaara, although I have never imagined us…like this, uhm, dating,” he murmurs.

Gaara wants to ask him why. He thinks he knows the answer, what might have stopped Lee from venturing here before, what might have changed between then and now.

But instead, he asks this. It’s all that matters, all he needs to know now.

“Would you like to try?”

Lee’s face softens, breaking out into a smile.

“I would like that.”

Chapter Text

“You’re serious,” Kankuro says flatly.

Temari shoots him a look, which Kankuro shoots back twice as hard. They rally back and forth—a makeshift stand-off in Gaara’s office—until eventually Temari finally yields, sighing loudly and throwing her hands in the air.

“Of course he’s serious. When has Gaara ever not been serious? Besides, didn’t you encourage this?”

Kankuro’s right eye visibly twitches.

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s still…” he glances over at Gaara with a barely concealed grimace, crossing his legs once, and then the other way as if he can’t sit still. “Say it again. Please. I need it forcibly punched into my brain.”

“I said that Lee agreed to date,” Gaara repeats. “You’re surprised.”

“I mean,” Kankuro squeezes his eyes shut and then sighs. “Yeah?! Okay, what? I’m not going to lie to him!” he sputters towards Temari, who just slumps further in her seat, avoiding his gaze and looking clearly exasperated.

“I get the sense that I’m supposed to be offended,” Gaara murmurs, absorbing the situation unfolding around him.

Temari simply sighs, which is a telltale sign that Gaara was right—but she wasn’t going to admit it.

“That’s up to you. I’m surprised too, but in a good way. No one ever said unconventional can’t work, right?” she asks rhetorically.

Kankuro nods unevenly a couple of times.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant! I mean, good for you, little bro! Would make for a funny story if you two worked out long-term! Just not the kind of stuff that makes up instruction manuals, you know?”

“You’re referring to my book, which I am no longer consulting given Lee’s reaction to my initial proposal,” Gaara replies, matter-of-fact.

“Y-yeah, that. Romance doesn’t work the same way for everyone! Seriously, happy for you. Go get your…what do you two do, exactly?”

Temari coughs twice, not bothering to hide the glare she sends Kankuro’s way as she does. But she doesn’t end up saying anything, the way she usually does whenever she interrupts Kankuro, so Gaara takes that as permission to speak.

“We went to get breakfast the next day together. Then we took a walk around Konoha and spoke at length about how we want to do this, given our individual responsibilities, the distance factor, as well as our own expectations as we both lack practical experience to draw from. After that, we went to the training grounds and sparred for an hour, although Lee wanted to go for longer,” Gaara recounts the events.

Temari gives him a small yet warm smile.

“That’s really nice, Gaara. But during your walk, what did you decide on? As Kazekage, you know meeting in person frequently won’t be very likely, and he too is a high-ranked Konoha shinobi, a pretty active one at that.”

“I know,” Gaara feels the corner of his mouth twist upwards, recalling the smooth manner the conversation unfolded back then.

Gaara didn’t personally think it was as difficult as the way Temari was making it sound, softening the blow in what he agreed was not a typical relationship. The fact that neither of them had done this before and hence only knew of passing norms (which scarcely applied to them personally anyway) actually worked in their favour. Talking it through was the only realistic course of action, and it went quickly and without much fuss, since they both had sticking points they could not budge on, leaving very few options remaining.

“We will visit at mutually beneficial times, and communicate via letters that Lee promises he will actually return this time. I keep my job; he keeps his,” Gaara states simply.

Kankuro huffs, not sounding convinced.

“You’re really taking this whole long-distance relationship thing in stride. Most people hate that kind of shit, you know?”

“You mean me, I hate it,” Temari grumbles under her breath. “And most people, yeah, yeah, stop glaring at me, Kankuro. But he’s right. You’re awfully okay with this. Mutually beneficial times could mean months apart. That’s…okay with you?”

Gaara blinks a few times in confusion.

“This is the only outcome that makes sense between me and Lee. Unless I choose another partner, I have to be okay with this.”

“Right, but you won’t, uh, pick someone else I mean,” Kankuro pipes up.

“Lee is good with me,” Gaara murmurs. “We’ve known each other a long time, through all the times that mattered and in spite of it. I greatly enjoy his company, and he is willing to try this with me in a way that makes sense for us both. I think that is more agreeable than picking someone in Suna who I do not know nor care to want to know.”

“That’s…rather mature. I guess if you don’t need any of that lovey-dovey physical stuff, then—”

“Hey! That stuff’s important too, though,” Temari tosses a weary glance Gaara’s way, “also not for everyone, if you don’t want it to be.”

“Yes, physical intimacy is impossible through letters, but we both don’t know what we are missing, so to speak, so we can resolve that issue at a later time,” Gaara agrees.

Kankuro looks terribly relieved at that, so Gaara can only figure he said something less than unexpected for once.

“Oh, well, that’s great then.” Temari softens into a bigger smile. “We’re happy for you, and you know, are here to talk if you ever need to, since this isn’t the kind of thing you want to advertise everywhere.”

Gaara nods. “Lee mentioned that as well, as a matter of security. I agreed with him.”

“Yeah, so if you need advice and all that…” Kankuro waves his hand around awkwardly in front of him. “Well, I’ll listen, but I’m never reading another one of your love letters again.”

Gaara nods again. For the sake of completeness, he looks towards Temari’s direction for her take on the subject.

In response, she laughs, a playful grin breaking out across her face.

“I’m with him for once, actually. But you got this, Gaara. I’m sure your letters will be much better received now.”

And they are.

After their first date (at least that’s how Lee coins their day together in Konoha back then), they don’t end up seeing each other again in person for another four months. It put the whole letter writing thing to the test fairly quickly.

Except maintaining a habit of writing letters given their occupations was, unfortunately, easier said than done.

During that time, Lee gets assigned out for three missions: two that are quick in-and-outs, but one takes him undercover for over a month. It doesn’t necessarily bother Gaara, because his schedule doesn’t fare any better. During those four months, he ventures on two diplomatic missions, one of which overlaps halfway with Lee’s time away from Konoha, and another that leaves him too exhausted and dare he say, too frustrated, to spend an hour or two to put his thoughts to paper after a series of ultimately futile negotiations.

Thus, there aren’t as many letters being traded between him and Lee as Gaara might have imagined, but the ones that do make it are quite memorable. The ones that Gaara receives at first are even longer than his initial letter, detailed and full of heart from Lee, his energy lifting off the page, nearly contagious. Despite being separated by forest and desert, it was easy for Gaara to imagine Lee’s days as he read his letters by candlelight. He could picture Lee’s routines, his unceasing smile, him doing a fist bump when sharing good news coming out of Konoha. He could hear Lee’s voice, respectful and sincere when he asked Gaara for advice or something personal that should’ve felt awkward but wasn’t.

It makes Gaara wonder how Lee would have responded on paper the very first time, if he had the nerve to do so.

Part of being in a relationship is supposedly about prioritizing the other person, putting them and their opinions first, folding them into the decision-making process. Gaara had an entire village that he’s learned to prioritize, elders to consult with in advance, trusted council members and his siblings to have his back. He had never done this on a personal level before, but it isn’t all that different from their previous conversations—at least not at first.

There were not many personal dilemmas that Gaara sought Lee’s opinion about, as his personal life was more or less stagnant in comparison to his work and he couldn’t share much of his work with a foreign shinobi. However, the reverse couldn’t be said about Lee’s questions to Gaara.

Lee had earned the privilege of asking Gaara anything he wanted, with the expectation that Gaara would answer things his way—honestly and without filter and hence, sometimes unsatisfactorily. So Gaara answered ‘yes’ when Lee asked if he was ready for his own Genin team, and he answered ‘neither’ when Lee asked if he preferred the morning or the night, and he answered ‘it feels right, so I will do it as long as I’m able’ when Lee asked how it feels to be Kazekage so young and how long he thinks he’d do it for—and declined to answer when Lee asked when he thought Naruto would meet him there as Hokage.

It takes until the third letter for those questions to take on different shapes. It’s the third letter that tips Gaara off, that despite them both agreeing that they shouldn’t widely advertise their relationship, some of the damage had already been done with Lee’s initial panic. So yes, some people knew, which Gaara didn’t mind since they were all Lee’s close friends and confidantes. But it was clear that those same peoples’ thoughts were diffusing through Lee’s words.

Gaara knows that people talk, that people have their own opinions on how things should go and how everyone should behave. There is a societal hierarchy, some list of socially acceptable behaviour floating around he’s never cared to fully consume as a child, nor is he terribly motivated to consume it now that he’s Kazekage and stood outside of many of its rules anyway.

He’s well aware that he oftentimes sits squarely in the minority opinion. That he doesn’t find most jokes funny, even after the punchline’s been explained. That the desert is a beautiful, calming place to him rather than a place signifying danger and lack of life. That being dishonest to spare another person’s feelings is a gesture of kindness that Gaara would never practice because it would never strike him to be dishonest in the first place.

That’s part of why he likes Lee. He appreciated those parts of Gaara, even leaned into them. He was more worried about their relationship from Gaara’s standpoint than his own, but once Gaara made it clear that this was what he wanted, he was happy to discuss together about what they wanted—even if that didn’t mesh with said societal expectations.

But that doesn’t mitigate the fact that while Gaara lived outside of those norms and didn’t care for them, Lee’s lived in it all his life and still does. He was left to survive in convention and he’s been scorned by convention, so it’s understandable that he too, would still be affected by it to some degree.

So Gaara did not find it surprising, nor did he fault Lee when his words veered into that direction, brought on by his loved ones with streaks of feelings that Gaara could see in Lee himself. Things like: ‘Gai-sensei says I should’ve taken you out on a real memorable date last time, even on short notice! It would’ve been a good challenge to prove myself worthy of your affections’ or: ‘Tenten is wondering if your absolute defence will let us hold hands. I wonder that too. Should I have tried?’

And each question makes Gaara wonder too. Not to say he doesn’t wish he’d rather answer Lee in person, but there were the benefits to replying in writing that had appealed to Gaara the very first time demonstrating their worth now. Because if Lee had asked him in person, perhaps they would’ve landed on a different conclusion, the language slightly different yet impactful.

He might have replied: ‘you are already worthy’ or ‘I would’ve hurt you’, rather than ‘we can go on another’ and ‘if you wanted to, we could have’. It would have conveyed how he feels better because while both of those answers remain truthful, one takes them as they are and one takes them one step forward.

Gaara admits that he too, is out of his depth, but the only way to see if this works is to try, the way Lee agreed to in the very beginning.

So it is only right that Gaara returns the favour, even if he’s never mused over what a memorable date would entail, or why exactly one would want to hold someone else’s hand.

But he thinks about it now, what that date would mean when they are both within speaking distance of each other again. And each night before he sleeps, he spends a few minutes willing the sand to still in his gourd on command, the restless swirling slowing little by little, until he thinks he can finally answer Lee and Tenten’s question the way he wants to.

The next time Gaara visits Konoha is half a business trip, half a social call.

It’s the annual Chuunin exam, for which Gaara had been penned in his calendar for months to attend. Not for the entire duration, because Kages as a whole tended to do as they pleased, but Gaara committed to it because it was hosted in Konoha this year, much to Lee’s excitement. Gaara’s too, though that was mostly overshadowed by Lee’s sheer energy when they finally reunite.

The way Lee’s expression brightens instantly when their eyes meet causes Gaara’s chest to twinge, a prickling sensation that spreads through his body like molasses, sticky and warm. Lee runs up to him like a whirlwind, stopping just short of slamming into him. In the face of such earnestness, Gaara can’t help but smile softly back, and the very action sends Lee into a loud declaration of how he’s been looking forward to this moment. He then lowers his voice with a sheepish look when Gaara gestures wordlessly that they were standing in the middle of the street.

It was such a simple thing, and it wasn’t exactly far off from how excited Lee used to be when they had the time to catch up in person previously. But there’s a sparkle in Lee’s eyes that is net new, a constant humming energy vibrating off him as they walk and talk—or more like skip, on Lee’s part at least. And all of a sudden, the sweet words that Gaara had always taken to be overexaggerated endearments (on account that it was Lee) no longer feel so overexaggerated.

“I missed you,” Lee says softly when they reach his apartment door. “I have told you a lot in writing, and it has been nothing but wonderful, but it is different having you here next to me.”

There are no plans to change their current arrangement, and Lee isn’t stating his dissatisfaction. Yet, it is then that his siblings’ questions regarding his nonchalance on said arrangement rear itself to the forefront of his mind.

“It is different,” he agrees. “Is it acceptable, the way things are between us?”

Lee nearly jumps, waving his hands in front of Gaara’s face in protest.

“Oh, of course, it’s acceptable! I didn’t mean to imply otherwise, just…I’m glad to have your physical company,” Lee cries out. “Gai-sensei always says that absence makes the heart fonder, and I am…” his face flushes a layer of pink, “I am very fond of you, Gaara. That’s all.”

Gaara nods, believing he understands the crux of it now.

“I will see you later tonight for dinner then. We will make the best of this extended opportunity,” Gaara answers.

And then, because somehow after all of Lee’s words—on paper, in person—and also his own, he realizes there’s an art to responding to the message in front of him rather than what is simply written down.

He should say a little more.

“I missed you a great deal, Lee. I don’t care much for the Chuunin exams, minus the fact that it’s how I met you, so perhaps it is poetic justice that it is what brings me back to you again this time too,” he says and watches Lee’s face turn even redder.

He doesn’t dislike the look, not at all.

“So, you’re helping to supervise this year?” Gaara asks over dinner.

“Yeah! Just the second phase though, which should not take longer than the three days I mentioned before. I know it does not perfectly overlap with your duties—” Lee rambles.

“I know. It’s fine. I have stated that I’m also here for you. Timing is not an issue,” Gaara interrupts briskly.

Lee’s eyes widen, as if he’s hearing the words for the first time, but then nods, turning his attention back down to his rice bowl.

Despite all the hypotheticals trading back and forth between them, in the end, a twist of last-minute conflicts from the Kazekage’s office had caused Gaara to arrive a day late. Lee hid it well, but Gaara had no doubt that his late arrival had caused at least one missed reservation. He had thought it over, whether he was amenable to some grand date idea and what he would do if he was in Lee’s shoes.

What he had concluded was that he would be lost for ideas, which meant it all came back to the same thing—not knowing what he was missing. In context of that revelation, them having curry together in a cozy shop late at night—one of the only ones that were still open after Gaara’s long day—was more than enough.

Despite a quiet, nagging curiosity, Gaara didn’t push Lee to reveal what he had originally planned. Knowing Lee, he would plan it all over again and hold himself to an even higher standard the second time around. In addition, Lee was never one to hide his thoughts when it comes down to it. Waver, perhaps, or drag his feet a little if it was important or embarrassing, but he would always eventually admit the truth to someone.

It feels good, that the someone for Lee these days is Gaara.

“Have you decided on whether you will be taking on a team next year?” Gaara asks after they both take a few more bites out of their meal while it was still steaming hot.

Lee’s expression perks right up.

“Oh yes! I thought it through some more after our recent conversation, well, correspondence. Are you sure it is not a problem? I will need to be there for them until they graduate to at least Chuunin, accompany them on missions in far-off locations for long periods of time, which means our already scarce time together will be even shorter.”

He shoots Gaara a half-smile, though his eyebrows give away his true feelings.

“You’ve wanted it for a long time,” Gaara says curtly. “From before we started dating. I remember you bringing it up as early as two years ago and I am certain you have thought about it for longer than that.”

Lee sighs, an easy sign of admission.

“I have. Gai-sensei is such an important figure to look up to in my life. I’ve always wanted to do the same for my own pupils one day and inspire them to be their best!” he exclaims with vigour, raising his chopsticks to the light on the ceiling.

However, that energy quickly falls off with his next sentence. “But I don’t want to give up what good we have together right now.”

Gaara does not think before he replies; he doesn’t need to.

“You won’t be. This is clearly very important to you. I do not want to get in the way of that.”

“But is that not what relationships are all about? Compromise? Talking things through? I,” Lee pauses, evidently deliberating over his next sentence. “Uhm, I know we haven’t been together long, but I do not want to disregard you in my career decisions, Gaara. Not when I could end up not seeing you for years.”

Gaara freezes, absorbing Lee’s statement for what it is. Somehow it had escaped him that the typical Genin experience was not the one he lived through. He was never in need of protection or supervision. Their missions were always completed earlier than expected without struggle or fanfare. Becoming a Chuunin was a matter of time, more based on his own ability to hold himself back rather than anything about his innate ability to demonstrate a skillset befitting of the title.

Lee looks at him, his eyebrows wrinkled and a twist on his lips. “Gaara?”

“I suppose it is in my best interest then to wish you are given a competent Genin team who passes their exam on the first attempt,” he says.

Lee’s eyes beam at him, appearing rather amused.

“That is a high bar. Neither of us did if you recall.”

“I do,” Gaara replies simply.

Of course, that had done very little to hinder his or Lee’s paths forward. In fact, it had done exactly what it was perhaps meant to do. It had served as a catalyst for paving that path forward, painting it with an outcome neither of them would have imagined as children.

And children need good mentors, good people like Lee.

“But my answer is the same. I’m Kazekage. I lead Suna. That is my career, one I’ve told you that I intend to hold for the indeterminate future. You were not a consideration when I chose it, nor will l choose you over it today.”

Lee shakes his head furiously. “Nor would I ask you to!”

“I know, so I won’t ask you to choose me either. Our lives are busy, and it will only get busier. But I am okay with reserving my spare time to spend with you, if you are willing.” Sensing Lee’s hesitation, Gaara pauses. “Unless you no longer are?”

Lee drops his chopsticks, slightly taken back.

“Oh, no! I admit the distance is not great, but you are completely right! We should think of the positives rather than the negatives. I have wanted to see you for so long and here I am, wasting the time we have earmarked together,” he says in a rush, picking up his chopsticks again and raising the bowl to his mouth, scooping in a few bites and swallowing at record speed. “There are a few things I wanted to discuss more with you, if you have the time, Gaara?”

Gaara picks up his own chopsticks, though he wasn’t quite in as big a rush to eat as Lee. His cheeks are still warm, lingering from the heat of the curry and the gentle manner in which Lee is looking at him, and Gaara is suddenly brought back to every word they’ve traded, every hypothetical that no longer needs to be one.

“I have time,” he says softly.

By ordinary standards, the exams go well. Two Genins pass from Suna, including one boy on his first attempt. His duties are fairly tame in comparison to Lee’s recounts, guarding one of the few available target scrolls during the exam’s second phase. Genins are creative and well-prepared, but most of them are still inexperienced children. And children do stupid things, like bickering in front of an enemy instead of putting on a united front, declaring their ability’s power and limitations, and most of all, underestimating Rock Lee.

Being with Lee in person is comforting in a fashion that letters cannot convey. It’s the instantaneous muffled reply to Gaara’s comment on the shape of his cheekbones over an onigiri on their mutual break. It’s the way Lee’s eyes twinkle brighter than the full force of the rising sun when they jog around Konoha together, overjoyed that Gaara was joining him for his usual routine, albeit at a much slower speed. It’s the truths that get shed from each of their thick skins as that first night had went on and on, and by the end, Gaara wanted to live it all over again.

The stars were out on a clear cloudless sky that night when they had left the curry restaurant. They had walked out side by side, not back to Lee’s apartment as Gaara expected, but towards the grassy clearing by the East side of the village.

“If we had more time together, a full day together for a date, what would you want to do?” Lee had asked.

It was a question Gaara had contemplated before, but one that he was fairly certain he had no satisfactory answer for.

“I don’t have a checklist. I’m content with our existing time and activities together, so I presume having more time would thus be an automatic betterment. You said there were things you were interested in trying together. If they are…date-worthy,” Gaara mulled over the wording slightly, of which Lee chuckled lightly at, “I think we can start there.”

“That is very kind of you, but I don’t think having more time automatically makes everything better.”

Then they took a seat on the grass next to each other. Gaara had set aside his gourd, and Lee stretched his legs out, crossing one over the other and recounted a time in the early days of his team, when they had been trapped in a remote cave together for four days. Apparently, their peaceful coexistence had nearly blown to bits over topics which could no longer be held back when they lived, breathed, and existed in the same narrow space for days on end.

“Are there things you’re holding back from me?” Gaara had asked, point blank, and Lee hadn’t shied from it either.

“I…there are things I want to try, things I am still trying to come to terms with, things perhaps I cannot have, or would find difficult with you,” Lee started to say awkwardly.

His hand was clearly fidgeting on his thigh, his other hand alternating between clenching and unclenching, flicking at the blades of grass absentmindedly.

“I have thought a lot about it, and I think I will be okay with it. Truth be told, despite our blooming friendship over the years, I never thought I would—or could ever…date you, Gaara. That is not to say I am unhappy with our current situation! Quite the contrary,” Lee smiled fondly towards his lap, with a strange degree of determination. “You have already brought me a lot of joy in our short time together! But I would be remiss if I did not mention that I have had to rethink my future with you in mind lately, and it is…it might take me longer to let some things go.”

Gaara remembered taking longer than usual to absorb the meaning behind Lee’s words, spoken in a rather roundabout way that was uncharacteristic of him save for when he was nervous. It took him a little bit of time, but he thought he had done a decent job of distilling it down to the bare essentials.

While Gaara himself had never pined over a so-called normal romantic relationship, he was under no such similar assumption when it came to Lee. No doubt with a woman, to build a family of his own, likely in his own village where he’d be able to see them first thing in the morning and the last thing at night.

“Are you talking about children?” Gaara asked, tilting his head in Lee’s direction.

Lee’s face ran deep red at the question and he had squeezed his eyes tightly shut, bringing his knees closer into his chest.

“I—I mean, yes, a little, that was kind of what the Genin team was supposed to help me with. I…I do still want it, but that—that is way too soon!” he blurted out. “I just meant, you know, stuff I wrote you about before. If…if it’s even possible…if you would want to, but I don’t know if I can hold your hand, or, or touch you, or…k-kiss…”

Oh. Gaara had jumped a few steps too far ahead and caused Lee to nearly go into what seemed to be a very high functioning seizure state. He had some ideas in mind regarding children, none very concrete or committed, but this was much easier.

“You can,” Gaara cut Lee’s half-formed sentence off. “I’d like you to.”

Lee tilted his head up slowly in Gaara’s direction, scanning him up and down like Gaara wasn’t real. “Y-you would?”

“I don’t know why it is desirable, and I could be in the minority again when it comes to enjoying said action, but you can. I’ve trained the sand to allow you to. You can try,” he explained.

Then, to illustrate his point, Gaara held his hand out across the narrow space between their bodies, and waited for Lee to bridge the divide.

In return, Lee had fearlessly reached out for him. Not so much outwardly, because his bandaged hand was rather unsteady when he lifted it off his thigh, but in principle, because there was no fear in Lee’s eyes from the prospect of Gaara’s sand severely maiming him in the process.

Then again, Lee had never truly been afraid of him, no matter what the stakes. Lee reminded him of that fact on a regular basis.

His hand grazed Gaara’s, two fingers overlaying on top of Gaara’s fingernails. The contact was foreign, non-malicious yet intent, steady. It took half of Gaara’s self-control to keep the sand at bay, but he made sure the other half of his attention was resting squarely on Lee, the spot where his long, wrapped fingers laid atop Gaara’s sand-crusted skin.

“I…This is nice,” Lee said, a little in awe.

“I don’t believe this is how handholding works, at least in my nonexistent experience,” Gaara replied wryly.

Lee’s hand momentarily jolted up from where it was, a crinkle of worry in his brows before he looked back at Gaara, realizing it was a joke, but also a fair comment.

Gaara nodded, encouraging him. “But it was nice. You can continue if you’d like.”

“…okay,” Lee agreed.

He maneuvered his fingers until they slipped beneath Gaara’s hand, lifting it off the grass and onto his own palm instead. His fingers fit in snugly between Gaara’s, one by one, like completing a puzzle that Gaara didn’t know he was supposed to solve.

The moment might have felt more monumental than it should have under ordinary circumstances, given he had no understanding of non-lethal methods of touch. However, while that played a large part of it, it wasn’t just that. It was the look on Lee’s face, the tiny shock that had nicked his armour where Lee’s hand had first touched him, the fading hum of the sand in his gourd, restlessly swirling in wait but with toned down bloodlust.

This was all new. There wasn’t enough evidence to conclude what it was, but it was not bad. It was not neutral, even. It was something. It was worth trying.

“What else do you want to try, Lee?” Gaara questioned, suddenly incentivized. “I’d like to go through them all.”

“A-All of them?” Lee sputtered, eyes wide as saucers. “I do not think it is even possible to speed run everything in just one night, Gaara!”

Gaara frowned, deep in thought.

“I will take your word for it, so as much as we can, then. This is something we can’t do through letters.”

“No…we can’t,” Lee agreed, softening, the moonlight casting a glow over his skin that made Gaara remember how late it was. “But we don’t have to rush anything.”

He didn’t need sleep, but Lee did.

“I want to know what I’m missing out on. I will let you know if I dislike it,” Gaara said firmly, applying slight pressure downwards using his finger pads, digging into the creases between Lee’s fingers.

That same shock coursed through him, a trickling zap that he wanted to loop again. He squeezed down again. “I don’t dislike this, for example.”

“I do not either.” Lee had smiled, taken Gaara’s mediocre words for what they were.

That night, Lee had held his other hand too, and then he had rested his head on Gaara’s shoulder. Together, they counted the stars and crossed the constellations, while Lee had enumerated his considerably long list. It only seemed to get longer as they conversed back and forth on items Gaara would never have thought were deemed important enough to count.

It was true that there were too many things for only one night. To kiss him, for which Lee himself wasn’t yet ready for. To cook together, for which they were too full for that night, but they had agreed to do in four days time. To get dressed up for a festival, for which there was none upcoming. To cuddle, for which Gaara was unsure if he could keep his guard down long enough to truly sleep for real, but he had promised to try.

And that night, Gaara tried. He slept his usual two hours first, before quietly slipping next to Lee, careful to keep the weight of the bed as even as possible. He then spent the other three memorizing the rhythm of Lee’s breathing, slightly erratic and not at all metronomic, but Gaara strangely enjoyed it. It felt very much true to who Lee was.

Fifteen minutes in, Lee turns onto his other side and one of his arms casually slings over Gaara’s torso. He had stiffened at first, unsure of how to react—relieved that the sand had obeyed his will, confused if this counted as cuddling. So, he had resolved to stay still instead, remaining in the moment.

Whatever it was, Gaara didn’t dislike it either. No. Actually, he would go as far as to say he liked it.

By the time Gaara leaves Konoha, he attempts it with Lee two more times. He doesn’t fall asleep in either attempt nor does he manage to touch Lee of his own volition. It isn’t much of a cuddle, Lee jokes, but he’s overjoyed nonetheless by it, the fact that his sleep movements are acceptable by Gaara.

It’s more than acceptable; it’s Lee at his most vulnerable. And while Gaara cannot fully let those walls down, it is already much more than he’s ever felt with another person, hair tickling his face, breath curving down his neck, skin-close.

It is through those three nights that Gaara thinks he makes progress on understanding what intimacy means. A small dent, but it’s something.

Gaara was aware that he didn’t lead a conventional life. With his upbringing and being Kazekage, it was impossible for it to be conventionally simple. Dating was admittedly also one of those things that defied convention, despite the idea that dating itself was a very conventional route for courtship.

But he and Lee have been together for over a year and have met up in Konoha only four times. In each of those four times, Gaara feels their relationship jump several levels—sometimes then quickly receding, sometimes rising even higher. None of that was conventional, skipping steps or doing them all at once due to time constraints, but they made do with what they could.

And despite Gaara’s distaste for following conventions just because the majority of people did, he had to admit some of it wasn’t half bad.

Some parts were mindlessly easy to get on board with. Gaara has always enjoyed direct conversations in smaller groups rather than large crowds. In those settings, a conversation could take place and cut straight to the point without needing to dance around the issue with people who didn’t matter.

It was the reason why he initially enjoyed striking a friendship with Lee and the one-on-one talks they crafted their own rhythm around. Their conversations were honest, private, and Gaara never felt the need to repeat himself or his intentions, the way he oftentimes still had to with people who were unfamiliar with him. It was the reason he sought out Lee in the first place, when his book had advised looking for someone he could feel at home with and share things without holding back, slashing the list of potential candidates.

The concept of dating in reference to keeping another person as one’s pseudo-property in name was one that had confused Gaara at first. But over the course of the past year, it slowly started to make sense—why people wanted such a title in the first place. The appeal of it all was that one would have the first (and sometimes exclusive) claim over their partner’s time, their emotions, their secrets, and that much was desirable in a world where time was far too scarce, emotions far too vulnerable, and secrets far too important to spill to just anyone who was willing to lend an ear.

Gaara learned that by those standards, he liked the conventional definition of dating quite a bit. He liked the idea of calling Lee his own, even if it was only known to Lee’s close friends and select few in Suna. He liked being privy to the joy in Lee’s voice when he retold his stories in spectacular fashion, drinking up every one of Gaara’s minute reactions. He liked it when Lee openly confessed things in his letters that were only known by a handful of people—and sometimes only known by Gaara. He liked Lee’s list and the effort Lee put in to meet Gaara halfway, and together they oscillated between things Gaara liked too and things Gaara didn’t care for and whatever rested in between.

With Lee, it was easy to try. Gaara found himself agreeing to things he normally wouldn’t have thought to do alone, or ever, but it didn’t seem so bad when Lee was listing out fourteen reasons why it would be amazing. Hopping stalls during the summer solstice festival, dressed in yukatas that Gaara realized that he wouldn’t mind seeing Lee more of in. Reading side by side, their bare ankles crossing the other’s beneath the twilight filtering through the curtains of Lee’s apartment. Plating freshly sautéed dishes on Lee’s kitchen counter as Gaara tried to commit to memory just how Lee had done it all so fast.

It was nice and easy: how Lee sank into his life, how the sand no longer vibrated in Lee’s presence like a menace, how gently Lee’s touch was even though he knew Gaara was anything but delicate. On some level, maybe Lee could sense it, the potential that one of these days, maybe Gaara would hate the feeling: the weight of Lee’s hand resting on his thigh, wrapped tenderly around his lower back, cradling his jaw.

But Gaara never did. Not that it was all sparks—which Gaara learns is in fact, yes, a good thing—but some of it was, and it was a little elating, enough that it makes Gaara not shy away from more acts resting within the same category. The first time Lee kisses him, Gaara can only characterize it as odd, the press of lips and the slow escalating movement that ensues, a mutual give and take. Even now, Gaara’s not entirely sure he understands why people can continue to do this for minutes on end without breaking apart. Later, he learns the different forms of kisses, types that Lee seems more embarrassed than anything else to attempt. So Gaara chose to withhold his full opinion until then.

Dating, Gaara concludes, was a process for people to find the place they belonged to, craft an identity to call their own. A relationship was an important facet of that, because knowing themselves didn’t mean they had to stay alone, but rather find someone to trust their whole self with.

After all, Lee didn’t always agree with his opinions and he didn’t always agree with Lee’s. They were fundamentally different people, but they respected each other enough to consider the other first, and that consideration alone oftentimes made Gaara realize angles he wouldn’t have otherwise on his own. Temari told him once early on, how if they kept not seeing eye to eye, then they’d find themselves in fight after fight.

But they haven’t fought yet, because while Lee was stubborn and passionate, he didn’t lack logic—that, and he worried about Gaara more than himself.

So all in all, dating Lee was good for the most part—but it wasn’t perfect.

For instance, being introduced to Lee’s friends again as if he was a different person felt like a meaningless custom, as if he was expected to somehow act differently now that they were romantically entangled. Naruto tried to explain it to him: that the strangely worded non-threats and the casual jokes were a package deal. It was supposed to be symbolic and endearing, to show that they’d be on Lee’s side and protect him if Gaara ever did him dirty—Naruto’s words, at least, whatever that meant.

But that didn’t make much sense. Gaara knew Lee didn’t need protection, and surely not from him. And if one day came by when he would, he’s certain that their villages would have much larger problems to worry about than nursing a broken heart. They were adults, adults who knew and had distinctly voiced how they felt about each other. They were more than capable of talking things through without Lee’s friends running interference, and Gaara declared as much, though a few of them didn’t look so convinced.

That’s why Gaara didn’t bother reintroducing Lee to his siblings. Yet whenever Lee saw them accompany Gaara in Konoha, he was always a bit stiffer, a shade more polite, which Gaara called him out on afterward. That didn’t mean he would ease up the next time either, citing something about wanting to make a good impression with Gaara’s family after initially hurting him with his non-responsive answer to Gaara’s heartfelt confession.

Then, of course, there was the problem with the distance.

The difference gets more profound with every letter, every meeting. The knowledge that the stretch of time he spends without Lee is far longer than with Lee, how Suna feels hollower than he remembers, even though nothing had changed.

It takes Gaara a little while longer to realize that while Suna may not have changed, he has.

It was a realization in the making for some time now, but much like diplomatic relations, just because Gaara knew what the issue was didn’t mean he had a simple solution to resolve it.

So their relationship continues like this, a year and a half in when one day, Suna brightens up from an unexpected burst of green and orange, apparent even in the sandy-brown haze of the desert.

Ever since Gaara’s initial drop-by to confront Lee about his letter, they’ve agreed to stop doing unannounced visits. It was important to be respectful of each other’s schedules when actually getting it wrong had consequences. Not awful ones, but consequences all the same.

So it was worrisome, the fact that Lee was in Suna. Impromptu and alone at that, even though Lee’s face was masquerading as if there was no cause for concern. His hair shines under the full Suna sun, bursting into a full-face smile when Gaara comes out to greet the unforeseen visitor at the gates.

“K-Kazekage-sama, you didn’t need to come personally!” a young guard sputters when he sees Gaara approaching them. He turns to face Lee with a serious expression. “I was just asking him for his business being here.”

Gaara tilts his head towards Lee, who at least has the good sense to look bashful at the fact that he was making a scene at the border.

“I believe his business is me,” Gaara states clearly, carefully observing Lee’s eyes to confirm his suspicion.

Lee laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. He lowers his head briefly in apology towards the guard.

“It is. I apologize for the lack of notice. I thought I would beat the messenger pigeon to a letter, since I was in a bit of a rush.”

Gaara freezes at the implications in Lee’s words. “What’s the matter, Lee?”

Ignoring how the guard’s eyes widen at the familiar manner in which Gaara says his name, Lee pushes on.

“I have been summoned for an urgent mission. Suna was on the way to the rendezvous point. I know this is against what we agreed on, but I thought I would pay you a visit for once.”

“But if this is urgent…?” Gaara trails off, already sensing Lee’s answer.

“I made time,” Lee replies, declining to give any more detail in public, but Gaara doesn’t need the explanation anyway. “I can stay until sunrise tomorrow.”

Gaara nods, considering the time right now: mid-afternoon and blazing hot summer. There was time.

“Okay,” he tips a curt nod the guard’s way before walking away, Lee already following him step-wise. “He’s with me.”

It was neither far nor impossible for Lee to make the journey before today, but somehow, Gaara had always ended up being the visitor in Lee’s world rather than the other way around. He was out on business probably as often as Lee, but the difference was that sometimes Gaara’s business was in Konoha, but Lee’s business never brought him to Suna.

That is, until today. Well, indirectly.

A year and a half gave Gaara plenty of time to digest what he’d show Lee if he ever did come to visit. Truth be told, none of it was particularly interesting to Gaara, having grown up here. However, for a foreigner, especially one with as much raw curiosity as Lee, it was effortless for him to find intrigue and beauty in everything.

In the set up of Gaara’s office, stacks of scrolls sprawled about and minimalistic decorations on his desk and shelf, a box of Lee’s letters neatly folded up and tucked into the corner. In the traditional Suna cuisine that Temari had recommended long ago that Gaara had saved to take Lee to, satisfied by Lee’s ecstatic request for seconds, loudly complimenting the server and the chef and everyone else in the restaurant along the way. In the history of the village itself, as they toured it in circles past nightfall after the temperature cooled down, their hands linked together with the wind howling around them.

“I am not sure how long I will be gone,” Lee finally tells him on their last lap of the village, giving Gaara’s hand a light squeeze of reassurance. “So I wanted to come by…I know it is long overdue, and the circumstances are not perfect, but thank you for showing me your home.”

“You’re welcome,” Gaara answers quietly. Something warm nests itself within his chest at Lee’s words. “You’re welcome here, anytime. I will rectify the border situation tomorrow.”

Lee smiles, shaking it off easily.

“No, no, I should have told you in advance, but I was running here before I knew it. I will write you when I am back, I promise. I just did not want you to worry.”

‘I won’t’ blinks past the forefront of Gaara’s mind instinctually, but he knows better now to not say it from habit. It’s true that he trusts in Lee, deeply, but that isn’t the same thing.

“Okay,” he says instead.

They circle back towards Gaara’s residence, Lee following him inside for the first time. They get into their usual routine after a little reassembling, as Lee takes in Gaara’s room, the off-white of his walls, the bare table lodged in the corner.

“I don’t spend a lot of time here,” Gaara says by way of explanation. Lee knows his work and insomnia often come hand in hand. It was one of the things being with Lee at night seems to have somewhat helped with.

“Will you, tonight?” Lee questions in return, tugging at his legwarmers.

“Yes,” Gaara answers without missing a beat.

Then he stands to fetch Lee a set of looser clothes to spend the night in, despite Lee’s protests.

And in half a day, Suna gets painted with Lee’s presence as well, lingering even days after Lee’s departure.

It’s missing him, Gaara realizes, more profoundly than before when Suna was his place alone rather than his and Lee’s. Gaara isn’t sure how to undo what Lee did, but then again, he doesn’t know if he wants to.

It is not bad, missing Lee. It shouldn’t be a bad thing.

It isn’t a bad thing, Gaara repeats to himself, to miss Lee, to worry about him. Gaara is busy, but he can compartmentalize. It is not offensive to be worried about Lee’s safety, even if he is a skilled shinobi, things happen in the line of duty.

In the past, that would have just been a line he said out loud as a fact while not thinking of the potential repercussions: the permanent limp in someone’s leg, the coffin adorned with flowers. It happens, yes, but he doesn’t want it to happen to Lee. It can’t happen to Lee, he thinks one day, and that’s when Gaara realizes the difference between then and now, fact and wishful thinking and prayers, picking favourites and lives to be saved when no one has such a right.

It’s a small whisper at the back of his mind, but an active one that feeds the thing he refuses to call worry, because Gaara knows that if Lee doesn’t know how long it takes, then it will likely stretch on for at least a few weeks.

So Gaara attempts to will away the whispers, keep Lee and the slimmest of irrational anxieties at arm’s length. That much isn’t unfamiliar, because he’s used to not seeing Lee for four weeks, five, six, and that had never bothered him before. What does now was the fact that Lee had thought the mission dangerous enough to tell Gaara ahead of time in person, in case it ended poorly, in case—in case.

At week eight, Gaara understands why he didn’t say that he wouldn’t worry. This may be worry, he admits at week ten, when a visit to Konoha feels so wrong that he may have agreed to a very bad deal on Suna’s behalf when negotiating terms with Kakashi, his mind half there at best.

This is worrisome, he gives in at week eleven, as he fails to sleep a wink. It’s just like before, what feels like a long nightmare ago, except nothing now is really like before.

This is worry, worse than it’s ever been, more than worry has any right to be, and it takes him a few attempts to say it out loud when Temari finally asks him about it.

“You miss him,” she says softly, a hand landing gently on his shoulder. “That’s normal. We are all shinobi. There is risk in what we do, but you wouldn’t have told him no.”

Gaara grimaces. “It…It was never this difficult before.”

“Things were different before. This is what you wanted to learn about. There are good and bad times. But the question has always been—is it worthwhile?”

“Only if he comes back to me,” Gaara answers without thinking, an ugly creature gnawing at his insides.

It only strikes him later, far later, that he had forgotten what led him down this path in the first place. That it was a passing interest that had swelled and bloomed into much more than that—which proves him right at least, in terms of it having been worth pursuing. He had just never imagined it being so painful, not in a destroy-the-world kind of way, but it was acute all the same.

Temari cracks a small smile his way and says: “then that’s your answer.”

She doesn’t tell him Lee will come back; Gaara doesn’t need her to anyway.

One day into week fifteen, it happens.

There’s no letter. Rather, the same guard that had stopped Lee nearly four months ago bursts into his office, red-faced and out of breath. It’s impressive that he doesn’t even look fazed when Gaara glares darkly at him for the intrusion, black ink spreading into an ugly splotch on the report he was just about to sign off on.

“Kazekage-sama, you need to come with me.”

His tone tells Gaara it can’t wait, and that’s enough of an indicator for him to stay any punishment he had in mind. Gaara knows it before he sees it, a swirl of sand whisking him away to the gates in the blink of an eye. In the distance, he spots a flicker of green where green shouldn’t exist.

Time stops. Week fifteen ends. Lee is here. Lee came here, instead of his home. Lee is home.

Lee’s eyes are half-lidded when Gaara kneels down to inspect him, the smell of blood assaulting his senses head-on. His head lolls a bit to the left, his mouth opening to speak despite an obvious crack in his lip, clearly dehydrated and weak.

“Lee, don’t,” Gaara says, his voice rough around the edges, perhaps more than just the edges. “You’re fine. You’re here.”

The fact that he was here instead of Konoha wasn’t a good sign, Gaara reminds himself, but it’s a blurry blink in the grand scheme of things. Because Lee was here, alive, and that was more important than whatever else it may have implicated.

“I…took t-too long…” Lee croaks out, a hitch in his breath. “S-sorry.”

“You missed the Genin team formations in Konoha,” Gaara mutters, sweeping Lee up under a shroud of sand, morphing to cushion the shape of his body.

“I know,” he rasps, sounding regretful. “Next year, I promise.”

Gaara thinks of the distance between them two years ago to now, thinks of Lee being far from home to protect others—for his work, for who he is. He thinks of Temari’s advice about that at the beginning and how that truthfully pales to having Lee here now, battered up in awful shape, for even a few hours.

The answer’s still the same, despite it all.

“Next year,” Gaara agrees and then decides the answer deserves to be heard. “Thank you for coming back alive. I was worried.”

He could say more, but somehow, he thinks Lee gets it with just that much when he breaks out into a small laugh, although it twists into a cough halfway.

“I thought you might. Is…Is that okay? That I worry you?” he murmurs, ever softer when he says the word ‘worry’ like a quiet confession.

“I’m not going to go on a rampage, as long as you come back. I make no promises otherwise,” Gaara replies with a small scoff, trying his best to come across only vaguely threatening.

“That’s…fair,” Lee replies softly, relieved. “I feel the same.”

It’s a promise. One that was long coming, one that may renew itself ever so often, spelled out differently, wordlessly, in tentative caresses and tattooed vows and in front of audiences and in front of no one at all. One that lingered only as a fuzzy possibility nearly two years ago, when he stated that sending a letter to Lee was step one in a long journey, with no expectation of anything else afterwards.

Gaara doesn’t know what their afterwards might look like, when and where and how they’ll arrive there, but he knows he wants it.

And that’s worthwhile, isn’t it?