month 0.
Smaller than a grain of salt.
It started on top of Neji’s raggedy, old, summer camp sleeping bag. All heat and mouths trailing wet kisses down necks, across collarbones, on hips; two pairs of briefs hitting the floor, a raspy, whispered yes, then a slick slide. He still doesn’t know exactly how they got there or when—must have been sometime after doing lines in Naru’s lap in the backyard, encouraging the other boy turn into his slutty alter-ego, and watching him give the new kid in town a lap dance so thorough that he thought he saw one of the town’s resident bottle-blondes shove a twenty or two in the front pocket of those tight-ass shorts Naru loves to wear.
Seventeen days later, his nipples are sore and he’s nauseous when it hits him. They didn’t use a condom. He has no idea when his last cycle was beforehand.
So, what does he do? He makes an emergency run to Konoha. Naru will know what to do.
Naru, does in fact know exactly what to do and say to soothe his frazzled nerves. He doesn’t have a problem slapping the two garish, pink boxes that will tell him if his life is over—one as a pre-test, and the other final—on the counter along with the money, giving the cashier the finger, and rolling his eyes at her as she judges him.
Meanwhile, Gaara’s just trying to ignore the eyes burning twin, bug eyed holes into the back of his head. It’s not working so well. But he’s always been a master of the art of diversion.
“Fuck’s her problem?” He says to Naru once they exit the store.
“Hell if I know,” Naru says, shrugging his shoulder, “her mama can’t stand me, and I guess the apple don’t fall far from the goddamn tree.”
He lets out snort a snort and replies, “That’s so sad. You’re a fuckin’ gem, Naruto Uzumaki.”
Naru gives him his signature million-watt grin, “Ditto, Gaara No-Last-Name.”
It never fails to amuse him how Naru has heard his last name plenty times and still hasn’t figured out that it’s his.
When they get to the car, Gaara opens his mouth and asks, “Wanna go see Kiba for a lil’ bit before I get outta here?”
Naru tilts his head to the side, hand frozen on the door handle, “I thought you came to spend time with me?”
Gaara rubs his neck as he gets into the driver’s seat, “Don’t get me wrong, I did.” He says, tone apologetic, “But I gotta be back before six-thirty ‘cause my mama gotta be somewhere before seven and her car’s in the shop.”
Naru nods and ducks into the passenger’s seat, shutting the door with a quick slam, “Let’s do it.”
“Plus, I gotta go rescue Kankuro, Kiba’s mama look like she eats lil’ punk kids for breakfast.”
Naru laughs, something that never fails to cheer Gaara up. “She ain’t gonna eat him,” Naru says, “that’s Kuromaru’s job.”
Gaara cranks the engine and grins at Naru, “Like hellI’m finna miss that. So, where am I headed?”
“When you get to the end of the lot, make a right, keep straight, and it’s two blocks over. It’s the place with big house, a big sign, and all the dog toys in the yard. Sign says, “Inuzuka Kennels” on it.”
“You got it, boss. Kankuro drove in, and I was sleep most of the way, so I don’t know where the hell I’m goin’.”
***
The car ride is short, maybe five minutes with the midday traffic but Naru fills the car with loud music and a slew of questions. Gaara tunes most of them out with generic answers, because Naru asks him stuff all the time and won’t remember it twenty minutes later. But the boy asks one that cuts through to him.
“You gonna be okay?” He says with a look so soft and sincere it almost makes Gaara want to cry and hurl up the egg salad sandwich he ate before he got here.
Gaara decides to answer him honestly—not that he ever really lies to Naru, “Don’t know.” He says, “Guess I’ll find out soon enough. Naru nods and leaves it at that as he points out where to turn into the driveway.
And if the knot in the pit of Gaara’s stomach somehow loosens then tightens back up, well that’s his own business.
***
Hellcat practically barrels Naru over the second he says his hellos to everyone in the house and waves Gaara inside. Naru hugs his boyfriend back like he hasn’t seen him in years, when really, it’s only been a day or two. Gaara rolls his eyes, He hopes he never gets that lovesick.
Kiba’s mom is a delight, though. She pulls him into a gentle hug when she walks into the kitchen to greet them properly, then offers him a hielito from the refrigerator freezer. As he sits at the small, kitchen table, eyeing the kitschy decorations on the wall and focusing his attention on the can of Money House Blessing air freshener, he almost forgets about the black grocery bag with those two pink boxes inside on the car seat. Almost.
***
“So what’s in the bag, baby bro?” Kankuro asks once they’re on the freeway, leaving humid and hazy Konoha behind and heading into the perpetual dust storm that covers Suna.
See, Gaara might never lie to Naru, but he doesn’t mind lying to his older brother at all. “Remembered I was outta pads. Figured I should grab some before mommy leaves.”
Kankuro sniffs, but doesn’t make a face like he does when Temari mentions needing personals. “I would’ve taken you to get some before we got home.” He says, squinting at the road. “I don’t mind.”
Gaara sucks his teeth, “And have to sit there and watch you suck the life force out of your boyfriend? I’d rather watch paint dry.”
“Jesus, you wound me.” Is the last thing Kankuro says for the rest of the ride, too busy focusing on the road. He even has the radio turned all the way down so he can see better. Gaara snorts, maybe he should mention that Kankuro needs glasses to his mom.
Their house is less than five minutes away from the freeway, tucked into one of those fancy, wannabe gated communities where only half of the houses are built because the construction workers can’t work when the dust storms kick up too badly. Which means they just take the whole summer off, lazy bastards.
Kankuro pulls into the driveway and Gaara grips the plastic bag so hard it might rip. It’s not like his parents can see through it, and he can stash it under his bed until he’s ready for his life to be over…So why is he so nervous?
“How was your trip out, honey?” his mother asks the second they walk in the door and past the living room.
“Good.” He and Kankuro answer in unison, Kankuro heads into the living room and Gaara shoots up the stairs before she can ask anything else.
Two lines. Four, if you count both tests glaring back at him from the bathroom sink.
He’s fucking pregnant.
Nami wraps him up in a hug and he feels himself getting light headed. Fucking pregnant, he thinks, whose gonna take me seriously now?
