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Gaara loved being the Kazekage. He truly did.
He loved being able to provide for and protect the citizens of the Sand. He loved watching over his people and doing all that he could to ensure a better life for them. Better education for future generations, including those who had no desire to become shinobi. More wells for water and improved stores for the dry season. Better equipment and training for hospitals. Alliances with other nations. Increased trade. No matter how much time or paperwork it took, anything he could do to make his people’s lives better, he sought with a smile.
Even so, there was one sacrifice he gave that had begun to eat away at his soul: The late nights.
He hadn’t minded them so much when he’d first taken the job. After all, Shukaku had never allowed him to sleep, so he might as well spend those restless hours being productive. Many a treaty had been brokered after midnight in those early years, with Gaara never feeling the worse for wear. The only downside was the loneliness, as he was forced to work those long hours without seeing his family or friends.
But he was used to that.
Things had changed since then. Shukaku was long gone from his psyche, so he could no longer stay awake for days at a time. Even if he wanted to, eventually, sleep would force his eyes closed, and he would then wake up hours later with ink stains on his face and sleeves. After the third time this happened, he had resigned himself to going to sleep at some point, even if there was still work left to do. But even with that restriction on himself, he frequently found himself awake until one in the morning, signing scrolls and writing reports until his fingers were numb.
Tonight was such a night, as he was in the process of renewing the treaty with the Leaf. He reviewed every word three times over, not wanting a single misplaced letter to upset the balance and trust they had built over the years. He wrote, then rewrote, then rewrote again, carefully crafting his response to their terms with the precision of a spider weaving its web.
He finally finished his response. He carefully scanned it one final time, just to be sure, then leaned back in his chair, satisfied he had nothing further to add.
Then he froze as he saw the clock.
1:52 am.
He cursed under his breath, then shot up out of his chair, brushing off the bits of paper that clung to his cloak. He locked his office, then hurried up the stairs, apologies already burning on his tongue.
When he entered the penthouse, it was as silent as a stone. He crept through the halls towards the bedroom, following the low light that glowed under the door. He slowly pushed the door open, peering inside. “Lee?” he called softly.
There was no answer. His shame creeping higher, he slipped inside, squinting towards the bed.
There lay the other, much more personal reason he hated late nights.
Despite the light from his bedside lamp, Rock Lee lay fast asleep on their bed, a single sheet protecting his bare chest from the chilly desert night. Underneath, he could make out the outline of Lee curled on his side, clutching the pillow where Gaara normally rested his head. Lee’s nose was buried in the cotton, his face relaxed with his long dark hair spread like wings under his head.
Guilt squeezing his heart, Gaara slipped off his clothes and crept towards the bed. He peeled the sheets away, then gently tugged at the pillow in Lee’s arms. Lee grunted in response, then squeezed it tighter, his brow furrowing in protest.
It would have been adorable had it not shattered Gaara’s heart.
He sighed in defeat, then evaluated the space left on his side of the bed. It was narrow, but he could make it work if he slept on his side. He retrieved an extra pillow from the closet, then slowly crawled into bed, using his sand to extinguish the light.
Just as he was settling down, Lee shifted, then slowly lifted his head. His eyes blinked sleepily, peering through the darkness. “Gaara? Is that you?”
“Yes…I’m sorry.” For waking him, for staying at work so late, for more things than he could name in a single night.
Lee just smiled, finally releasing his iron grip on Gaara’s pillow and setting it aside. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Lee, we both know that isn’t true.” His gaze strayed toward the light. “You were waiting for me, weren’t you?”
“Of course, but I know a lot of things require your attention, and that is okay.” Lee’s calloused hands rested on top of Gaara’s. “You are working hard to make things better for everyone. I understood that when I married you, and I have not forgotten.”
The stinging in his heart didn’t abate. “I’m sorry all the same.”
Lee sighed fondly, leaning back against his own pillow. “I will forgive you if you come here.”
Gaara didn’t hesitate. He slid across the sheets, then rested his head on Lee’s chest, curling his body around him. Lee protectively wrapped his arms around Gaara, his fingers tracing gentle circles against his back. Then Lee leaned down and gently kissed the crown of Gaara’s head. “All is forgiven.”
Somehow, these words managed to reach him, his body relaxing like a knot coming undone. He barely turned his head, pressing a kiss of his own against Lee’s heart. “I love you.”
Lee’s embrace tightened. “And I love you,” he said, his voice barely trembling.
Gaara shivered at the waves of emotion buried in Lee’s quiet voice, his own feelings rising like a moonlit tide. He slowly lifted his head, finding Lee’s eyes, still shining in the darkness. Then, moving as one, their lips pressed together as their love finally crashed upon the shore.
One kiss turned into two, then three. Their shared hunger quelled any lingering need for sleep and banished thoughts of the following morning. Four, then five. None of it mattered. Six. Seven. Sleep was a luxury they could go without; tomorrow wasn’t promised. Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. As long as they stayed like this, wrapped around each other with kisses sweeter than honey, the rest of the world could wait.
And so, it did.