Why Is It Hard?
Dysturbation
Disclaimer: Characters are property of one
Masashi Kishimoto.
A/N: Well...
Disturbing
little idea that came from a conversation I had
with my
dear Archeeka... Yes. She helped me nurture
this little
bit of crack-seed into the wonderful
crack-blossom it's
become. She also beta'd and I'm very, very
thankful for
that. Much love.
Warnings:
Language,
implied Kankuro/Kiba, implied Gaara/Naruto,
masturbation, and crack humour.
---
"WHY THE
FUCK DO
I HAVE TO DO IT?!"
Temari's eyes
narrowed
in a dark glare, one hand shooting out to grab
the front
of Kankuro's shirt and drag him down to eye
level. He
scowled right back at her.
"Keep your
voice down,
idiot!" She hissed, glancing over her shoulder
briefly
to see if Gaara had reacted, "You have to do it
because
you're his big brother and there aren't any
other men
around to explain these things to him!" Kankuro
snorted
and removed Temari's hand from his shirt with a
disdainful wrinkle of his nose.
"So?
You're his
big sister! You know more about this shit than
me,
anyway! You go explain it!" He raised an
eyebrow
at his sister, shifted into an expectant,
impatient
stance. He then very narrowly avoided the hard
end of
her closed fan, swung just over his
head.
"Why
the hell would I know more? Did you just call
me a
slut?! COME BACK HERE AND GIVE YOUR LITTLE
BROTHER THE
TALK, YOU BASTARD!"
Just twenty minutes
earlier,
Kankuro had been minding his own business. He'd
been
very happily sitting alone in his own bedroom,
nodding
his head to the thrumming beat of the music in
his
headphones while he carefully adjusted Karasu's
joints.
He hadn't been thinking about sex, or Kiba- who
was all
the way back in Konoha, dammit- or anything
even
remotely like that. For once.
And then
he'd felt
it. That strange, yet familiar tingle across
the back of
his neck. That feeling that made him shiver,
then
grumble, and then twist around out of sheer
nervous
habit to make sure that there weren't any enemy
nin
waiting there to jump him.
There were no
enemy
nin, of course. No. Just his little brother,
arms folded
over his chest, troubled, faintly irritated
look on his
face, sand gourd strapped to his back.
It took
Kankuro a moment longer than it should have to
register
who it was standing in his doorway. When it
did, he made
an undignified sound that he would have much
preferred
not to remember, yanked his headphones off, and
jumped
to his feet. Even after almost three years of
relative
sanity, sometimes- just sometimes- Gaara still
unnerved
him.
The silence that stretched out
between them
was thick and heavy. Kankuro's instincts had
long since
kicked in, telling him that he should run, and
he should
run immediately. No good could possibly
come of
whatever was about to follow.
Unfortunately,
Kankuro had gotten into the habit of ignoring
his
instincts.
"What do you want, squirt?"
He grunted
at length, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Something
in the back of his mind was screaming at him-
'Don't
piss him off! Even if he won't kill you, he can
still
kick your ass!'
Gaara's face twisted
just a
bit, just for the briefest moment, almost as if
he was
trying to figure out just what it was he was
doing
there, looming in Kankuro's doorway. He
hesitated just a
bit longer before answering.
"There's a
problem,"
Was all he said, forehead creasing minutely in
agitation. Immediately, Kankuro's mind began
racing. A
problem? Hesitantly, he gave a slight nod of
his head,
an acknowledgement.
"What sort of
problem?" He
spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. To
his
immense surprise, Gaara's gaze darted away for
a split
second.
"It's hard," There was a slight
gesture
and Kankuro's mind was sluggish, trying to work
out his
little brother's reply, "This has never
happened
before."
"It- wha-" And then it hit and
Kankuro's
eyes were impossibly wide, "Whoa- WHOA! You-
TEMARI!"
---
Gaara had no
idea
Kankuro could move that quickly.
And
now, here he
was, sitting on Kankuro's bed, waiting as
patiently as
he could- at Temari's request- half listening
to his
siblings argue down the hall. It sounded as if
the fight
had become physical. He recognized the dull
'thunk' of
Temari's fan missing Kankuro's head and hitting
the wall
instead.
A moment later, the puppeteer
shot back
into his bedroom and slammed the door shut
behind
himself just in time to block the flurry of
shuriken
that had been thrown after him. He immediately
spun
around and glared, presenting the closed door
with both
middle fingers.
"Dammit! YOU DON'T FIGHT
FAIR!
Y'KNOW THAT, YOU BITCH?!"
Then, slowly,
turned
back to Gaara.
"...
Fuck."
Kankuro rubbed
his temples and set to pacing, occasionally
glancing in
Gaara's direction and grumbling to himself. He
paused
every now and again, crossed his arms over his
chest and
gave his little brother a thoughtful one-eyed
stare,
only to quickly start pacing again. Once or
twice, he
made an attempt at saying something, but didn't
get out
much more than "I- you- it's just- GAH!" before
he threw
his hands up in the air in frustration and gave
up
trying to speak.
Finally, he realized
that the
longer he stalled, the longer he'd have to
suffer
through this. Might as well get it over with.
Right?
Right.
With a long, maybe a bit
overdramatic
sigh, he grabbed his desk chair and spun it
around to
face the redhead sitting across the room. He
flopped
down in it and pinched the bridge of his nose,
trying to
sort out his scattered thoughts.
This
was so not
normal, it wasn't even funny.
He opened
one eye
to look at Gaara again, taking careful note of
the
younger teen's posture and expression. Opened
his mouth,
then shut it again with an audible click of
teeth. He
had no idea how to even start.
"... Is
it
still...?" He trailed off, making a vague
gesture, and
fought down the blush that was threatening to
rise to
his cheeks. For a moment, he thought he'd
rather be out
in the hall, dealing with Temari and her fan.
There was
a slight quirk of a nonexistent
eyebrow.
"Hard?"
Gaara's gaze flicked down between his own legs
so
quickly that Kankuro had to wonder if he
actually saw
it, "Yes. And it's becoming uncomfortable,"
Which was
easily translated into 'Fix this now or I'll
change
my mind about that whole 'no more senseless
killing'
thing', and Kankuro knew it.
"Uhh...
Okay,
okay," The puppeteer shifted a bit nervously,
folding
his arms over his chest again as he slouched
lower in
his seat, "What were you doing when it...
happened?"
Gaara was silent, something like thoughtfulness
on his
face, before he tilted his head just
barely.
"I
was sitting on the roof, thinking about
fighting Uzumaki
Naruto," He replied with a small frown. He
seemed to be
attempting to figure out what pondering
techniques and
strategies had to do with his
problem.
"...
Fighting?" Kankuro echoed with an incredulously
raised
eyebrow. Gaara blinked back at
him.
"Yes.
Fighting."
"Just fighting?" Now Gaara
seemed
suspicious, tipping his head back just
marginally to
give the older teen a careful, measuring look.
"... Yes," He repeated slowly, "What
else would
I be thinking of doing?" Kankuro made an odd
noise at
that and shook his head quickly,
A
long, awkward
pause. Kankuro was trying desperately not to
think about
his little brother and Naruto, and at the same
time
trying to come up with some way to explain
this.
Without utterly humiliating himself,
thank you.
It wasn't helping that Gaara was
very
quickly getting impatient. Who'd have thought
he'd ever
see the great, terrifying Sabaku no Gaara
fidget?
"How long has it been?" Kankuro
asked
suddenly, forcing himself to break the tense
silence.
"Forty-eight minutes," The younger boy
said,
glancing at the clock on the wall, and then
back at his
brother. He was frowning again. Kankuro
swallowed and
froze mid-sympathetic wince, "Why did this
happen and
how do I fix it?"
"How the fuck should I
know
why? Fighting doesn't normally turn
people
on," He stopped, and rethought that,
memories of
a certain Leaf mutt shoving him back against a
wall and
kissing him roughly after a morning spent
training
trickling into his scattered brain. Well. Maybe
it
turned some people on...
Kankuro
coughed
and shook his head again, shoving the impending
mental
images away before his body had a chance to
react,
"A-Anyway... Just go jerk off, and you'll be
fine."
"Jerk off?"
Oh, his day
had just
reached a whole new level of disturbing.
Kankuro
couldn't stop the faint tinge of pink in his
cheeks as
he realized that Gaara had absolutely no idea
what he
was talking about, and he was going to have to
explain
that too. Nothing was ever simple, was
it?
"Yeah, you just... you..." He made a
vaguely
obscene pumping gesture with one hand and hoped
beyond
hope that Gaara would understand. Gaara's
deepening
frown clearly stated that he did not. Kankuro
threw both
hands into the air, frustrated again, "You're
almost
fifteen! How can you not
know?"
Kankuro
was wholly unprepared for the next thing to
come out of
his brother's mouth.
"Show me,"
Monotone. Dead
serious. Kankuro choked, then doubled over in a
coughing
fit. He wondered if he could make it out the
window
before Temari caught on and beat the crap out
of him for
it.
"Dude- no," He didn't sit up
again.
Couldn't quite bring himself to look at Gaara
right
then. He hid his face behind his hands, sure
his ears
were going to burn right off of his head,
"Just-just...
Fuck. I dunno! Go take a cold shower or
something!"
Gaara hesitated, giving Kankuro a measuring
glance.
"A cold shower will... fix it?"
Kankuro
twitched, just slightly.
"Yes," His
voice was
tense and pained. He was just short of begging
the
redhead to leave so that he could piece his
mind back
together and suffer through his trauma alone.
There
weren't enough words to describe how relieved
he was
when Gaara got up and walked swiftly
out.
Temari-
who had remained vigilantly outside of
Kankuro's door,
just in case he decided to try running again-
had the
decency to wait until Gaara was out of earshot
before
she burst out laughing.
---
Gaara stared at
the
shower head for a very long time, suspicious,
before he
finally stepped under it and turned the water
on as cold
as it went. To his credit, he held in the
shriek that
clawed its way up the back of his throat at the
sudden
shock.
He didn't, however, stop himself
from
jerking away from the icy spray and flattening
his body
against the opposite wall. His eyes were wide.
His hands
were shaking. He was still hard,
dammit.
And Kankuro? Kankuro was
dead.
---
He'd slammed
the door in
Temari's face with a scowl and another flash of
his
middle finger, and then returned to poor,
forgotten
Karasu, keeping his hands busy while he
pondered over
the advantages of having his brain bleached. It
wasn't
terribly long, though, before his peace was
disrupted
again. This time, Gaara was a bit more than
irritated.
He was fucking pissed.
"I'm going to kill you," Gaara informed
his
brother rather helpfully, voice dropping down
into a low
and dangerous place. Kankuro made his second
undignified
noise of the day and scrambled away from the
tendrils of
sand creeping across the floor.
"Wait!"
It came
out as more of a squeak than Kankuro would have
liked,
but at the moment, his pride was rather lower
on his
list of priorities. Gaara's eyes
narrowed.
"It's
still hard," Slow, even, dripping with
impending doom,
"And it hurts," Kankuro's back hit the wall.
Luckily,
the sand had stopped coming at him, pausing
halfway
between Gaara's feet and his own.
"I
know! Just-
just listen, okay?" He took a deep, shuddering
breath,
"There's a plan C, alright?" Gaara's left eye
twitched,
"Just... calm down... And think of something
not
related to fighting or that Uzumaki idiot.
Think of...
of the most disgusting, nonsexual thing
you can
come up with."
The tiny, often ignored
optimist
in him said that Gaara's hesitation was a good
sign.
"... This will fix it?"
Gaara asked
carefully, drawing the sand back. Kankuro
nodded
quickly.
"Yeah. Just wait it out. Keep
your mind
on something else," Another deep breath, eyeing
his
little brother cautiously, "And don't...
y'know. Touch
it."
Gaara blinked. Kankuro
froze.
"...
Why would I touch it?" Kankuro decided that
brain
bleaching would definitely not be sufficient.
He'd just
have to kill himself and get it over
with.
"Why
would you- Gah!" He smacked himself in the
forehead,
cursing his own stupidity. Now he was back
where he'd
started, "Because... because! That's what
normal guys
do! That's- you- I don't even-"
He went
on spluttering and making useless gestures-
pointing,
flailing a bit, even tugging on handfuls of his
own
hair- for a few minutes longer. Gaara didn't
seem to
notice. His pale green eyes were glazed over
with the
unfocused look of someone coming to some sort
of an
epiphany. Suddenly, things were falling into
place.
"Wait," Gaara's voice put a quick stop
to his
brother's flustered fit, Kankuro freezing and
looking up
with an almost frightened expectancy on his
face, "You
mean, if I..." He copied the lewd gesture
Kankuro had
made before, "It will... go away?"
"That
was plan
A, yes," Kankuro mumbled, laughing weakly and
avoiding
Gaara's steady gaze, "Masturbation leads to
orgasm,
orgasm leads to lack of hard dick," He rubbed
the back
of his neck and hoped the embarrassed flush on
his
cheeks wasn't too obvious.
"...
Alright,"
Gaara nodded slightly, then gave Kankuro one
last
measuring glance before he turned on his heel
and strode
out of the room once more.
---
Gaara stared
down
between his own thighs with the same suspicious
hesitance he'd looked at the shower, earlier.
He wasn't
so sure how much trust he was willing to put in
his
brother, at this point, but it hurt. It
ached.
And despite what Kankuro had said- maybe
because
of what Kankuro had said- he couldn't really
stop
thinking of Naruto anymore. He was really
running out of
options.
So, it was with a slow,
deliberate
reluctance that he pushed his pants down, just
past his
hips, just far enough. His eyes widened
minutely as he
gazed down at himself, at the purplish, almost
bruised
look of his flesh and the trickle of clear
fluid from
the tip. He found himself wondering, again,
what Naruto
had to do with this.
This should be
easy, right?
Kankuro made it sound that way. Made it sound
like
something normal, natural. Gaara had never been
very
good at either of those things.
It was a
good
five minutes before he finally brought himself
to do it.
Touch, that is. Brushing his fingertips over
the swell
of his cock, surprising himself with an odd
tingle down
his leg and a quick, sudden intake of breath.
Was that
supposed to happen?
Cautiously, he
wrapped his
fingers around his erection, and pumped once.
Just once,
and paused, wondering inwardly at the strange,
quiet
noise that had slipped off of his tongue. And
then, he
did it again. Because really, this wasn't so
bad.
A few more times, and Gaara felt
his eyelids
drooping, his heartbeat quickening. The tingle
was
becoming more a shock, an electric crackle over
his
skin, along his nerve endings. A foreign
feeling pooled
low in his stomach, curling his toes against
the
bedsheets. His hips jerked, his spine arched.
He wanted
to stop, to figure out why his body was doing
things
against his will, but he couldn't quite bring
himself
to.
It was sort of a burning, but not,
because
burns were supposed to hurt and he was positive
that
this was the farthest thing from pain he'd ever
felt. It
made him want something, planted seeds
of near
frantic desperation in the pit of his belly,
but he
couldn't even begin to fathom what it was he
was
scrabbling for.
He was distantly aware
of the
sound of his own breath as it left him, panting
as he
rocked against his own hand, confused by
everything but
too far gone to really care. The world was
dimming,
narrowing down to the shaky rhythm, the rub of
his palm
against his aching arousal, the slick slide of
precum
being spread against his flesh. There was a
tense
pressure building in his stomach, and muscles
and
between his legs, all at the same time,
threatening to
snap or explode or maybe just collapse
altogether. The
strange part was that Gaara wanted it
to, whether
he understood why or not.
He could feel
his skin
prickling, sweat beading. Could feel the
shivers along
his spine every time he drew his palm up, the
jerk and
buck of hips every time he slid back down. He
wanted
things that had no name or shape. He wanted
this to be
over and done with, but never wanted it to end.
He
wanted.
And then, he had it. He was
there. He
didn't even register the sand rushing up behind
him to
protect his skull from the wall as his head
snapped
back. His eyes were wide, but unfocused, the
ceiling
fading out as his vision went blindingly white.
There was a choked, startled cry over
the rush
of blood in his ears as that feeling he
couldn't name
swelled and finally crested. It came crashing
down
around him again with a jerk and shudder,
leaving him
unreasonably exhausted. He slumped back against
the wall
beside his bed and waited patiently for this
strange
contentedness to drain away.
It was a
few minutes
before he noticed the stickiness against his
skin, and
found it much harder to lift his arm than it
should have
been. The white liquid was spilled over his
hand and
dripping down his wrist, bringing about a slow,
lazy
blink, and with a certain level of lingering
childishness, he popped one finger into his
mouth. Then
immediately regretted it, yanking his hand away
as he
turned his head and spat.
---
Kankuro could
only hope
for so much. Peace, quiet, only two emotionally
scarring
incidents per day. That was all he wanted,
really.
He hadn't left his room since Temari
had chased
him back in that morning, and wasn't planning
on it
anymore. He'd tried to lose himself in the
blare of his
music, the concentrated precision of chakra
training,
even the complete bliss of sleep.
Unfortunately,
he couldn't get very far with any of it before
his mind
dragged him, kicking and screaming, back to the
events
with Gaara. He couldn't even think about Kiba,
his brain
going full circle on him. Kissing, touching,
groping,
rubbing, hands, cocks, masturbation and
finally...
little brothers masturbating- which he really
would have
liked to keep out of his
thoughts.
He was
making another attempt at a nap when there was
a light
knock at his door.
"GO AWAY!"
Irrationally angry,
maybe, but he thought he had a right to be at
least a
little bit irrational after what he'd been
through. He
picked his head up and frowned when the door
was pushed
open anyway, and there was Temari, hands on her
hips as
she walked into his room without waiting for
the
invitation.
"Dinner's ready," She
announced,
staring at him expectantly. His frown slipped
into an
outright glare before she spoke again, "I made
hamburgers," He perked
visibly.
"Seriously?"
"Yes,"
Temari rolled
her eyes, "Now quit sulking and come eat," She
gave a
slight jerk of her head, in the direction of
the
kitchen. Kankuro scowled, but pushed himself up
anyway.
"I don't sulk," He
pointed out
petulantly. She snorted back at him, but made
no
comment, waiting patiently as he sat up on the
edge of
his bed and stretched. He was just getting to
his feet
when an odd, somewhat disconcerting thought
came to him
out of the blue, "Uh... Temari?"
She
tilted her
head a bit, "Yeah?"
"You're not..."
Kankuro
rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking very
slightly
sheepish, "I mean... You don't have like... a
secret
girlfriend or something, do you?"
He
honestly
didn't see her fist swing around to meet the
top of his
head and knock him back onto his bed
again.
"Of
course not! What the hell kind of question is
that?!" He
winced and scooted away from her- just in case
she
decided to attack again- before folding his
arms over
his chest, staring down at his lap, and
mumbling his
response. Temari's eyebrow quirked upward,
"What was
that?" The pink tinge to her little brother's
cheeks was
actually sort of cute, if she thought about
it.
"I said I was just wondering if it
was
genetic or something," He repeated, a bit
louder,
looking up at her through his bangs.
"If...
what?" She was genuinely confused, and Kankuro
coloured
a bit more, quickly glancing away
again.
"Well...
'Cause I guess Gaara's got this thing for that
Uzumaki
idiot, and then there's me and Kiba, and...
Nevermind,"
He stood abruptly and slipped his hands easily
into his
pockets, "You said you made hamburgers?" Temari
blinked
at him, and then gave a slight smile, shaking
her head
at the utter weirdness her brother had grown up
into.
"Yeah. Gaara wanted
them."
Kankuro
winced, but followed his sister down to the
kitchen,
anyway.
---
Dinner was
uneventful,
and Kankuro was thankful for that. Gaara was
completely
silent through the meal. In fact, he hardly
looked up
from the nearly raw hamburger patty he was
poking at the
whole time. At Temari's tentative questioning-
'Is
your food alright, Gaara?'- he simply
shrugged and
took a bite to appease her.
It wasn't
until
after dinner, while Temari was grudgingly
washing
dishes, that Gaara cornered his brother again,
staring
at him hard. Kankuro had cursed inwardly and
scowled
outwardly. Gaara did not seem put off in the
least.
"What is it now, shrimp?" The
puppeteer
wasn't about to admit how much that familiar,
thoughtful
look on his younger sibling's face scared
him.
"You never explained why that
happened."
Kankuro ran.
-end-
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