Title: Rhythm & Bruise: Gaara's Story
Series: Monoshizukanohi//Naruto AU
Pairing: Many, many pairings. Almost everyone in the Naru-verse is here in some capacity or another.
Word Count: Ongoing
Warnings/Notes: Dark fiction. Bloodplay, angst, violence, abuse, gangs, D/s, bondage, impact play, other.
Spoilers: None whatsoever.
Summary: The streets of Monoshizukanohi are not kind to youth, and Gaara is no exception. After running away from an abusive home, Gaara struggles to find meaning in life through violence, drugs, and anything he can manage to survive. Join him as Gaara and his ever-present friend Jody struggle from the streets to the top of the social strata. It's rags to riches, despair to hope, and everything in between.
Shrugging into his leather jacket, Gaara looked up and was grateful to see Kiba’s back was still to him. Itachi sat in the leather chair, looking suitably content. Neji had one hand on Kiba’s shoulder and was talking to Itachi in his gracious manner about another visit.
Gaara stepped down out of his booth, walked back behind the bar, and went out the gate on the far side. One of the twins nodded at him as he left, but he didn’t bother to respond. The doors out to the Catacombs were open, but when he crossed the hallway, Gaara saw the doors to the stairs were locked.
“Fuck,” he said softly and without much venom. Fumbling for the cigarette case was a pleasant distraction from trying to figure out what, exactly, was wrong. The longer he could put off that bit of business the better.
Case located and doors unlocked, Gaara quick-stepped up the stairs to the tomb. He clenched his teeth against the chill and pushed through the final set of doors to the outside.
“Good night, sir,” one of the guards said, but Gaara just shrugged deeper into his coat and shoved his hands into his pockets. The entire night was mostly incomprehensible to Gaara. He didn’t know Kiba. He didn’t understand why Kiba felt the need to include him in his little show with Itachi. And he definitely didn’t know why said inclusion bothered him so much.
Blowing out a little puff of air, Gaara thought perhaps it had to do with all the earlier thoughts on arousal and life and choices. It’d been a long time since something at the club got him worked up; and he was none too happy that it took some cocky bastard with a couple of neat tricks to do it. He resented Kiba for pulling him into that damned game without warning or permission, and he was pissed at himself for responding even a little. That meant that Kiba won a bit of control, and the thought made Gaara want to stab something repeatedly with the knife in his boot.
“Sir?” said a voice.
Gaara jumped and realized with a growling curse that he was still standing outside the tomb entrance, shivering.
“Nothing,” he grumbled and started off toward the parking lot like an angry thundercloud. Idiot. Fool.
Best to forget about it, get home, go to bed. For once he felt like sleep wasn’t mere surrender but might offer solace, and he got a firm grip on himself as he walked. The last thing he needed was some latent overload moment thanks to some asshole dom.
Gaara rolled his eyes, and his boots hit asphalt with a gritty crunch. He was halfway to his car when he heard footsteps.
“Hey!” A familiar voice called out behind Gaara, making his shoulders come up and try to meet his ears. Gaara scowled and kept walking, hoping it would just go away.
“Wait up!” The voice said, breathy and closer, now. Gaara turned and saw Kiba trotting up to him. Gaara didn’t pause; he couldn’t imagine what the man wanted. He surreptitiously checked to make sure he had his wallet and keys. Sure enough – they were both in his pockets in their usual places.
And if this guy wasn’t here to hand over some of Gaara’s property, then Gaara had exactly no use for him. What the hell did he want, some rundown of the fucking scene? To have a nice chat about how good he was back there? Gaara sneered at the thought and kept his gaze ahead and on his car.
“Damn you’re quick,” Kiba said, shoving his leather-gloved hands into the pockets of his long coat. “Didn’t think I would catch ya.”
“Why were you trying?” Gaara muttered, still walking and slightly irked that Kiba’s stride was longer than his own.
“T’say thanks for watchin’,” Kiba said with a grin down at Gaara. The expression reminded him of earlier grins, and Gaara’s mouth set in a hard line.
“You were right in front of my booth,” Gaara replied, pausing and turning his head to level a blank stare at the taller man.
“Oh,” Kiba said. “And here I thought you were just returnin’ the favor.”
“What?” Gaara asked, irritably.
“The other night,” Kiba said, head tilting and eyes searching. “I watched you up at Bliss. Now, don’t break my heart and tell me ya don’t remember.” Kiba grinned.
Gaara’s eyes widened a fraction as the memory surfaced. Kiba didn’t wear the face paint tonight, and Gaara’d been so distracted by the tattoos and the scene that he didn’t connect the man from Bliss with Kiba until now.
And the realization that it was all the same man - watcher at Bliss, Naruto’s friend, heavy-handed regular dom at Break – made Gaara even more uncomfortable.
Grunting and resuming his stride, Gaara wrapped his arms around himself. “Wasn’t returning favors. Didn’t have a choice but to watch – you were in my damned face.”
Kiba chuckled. “Oh come on: ya make it sound like ya didn’t enjoy it. And I know that ain’t true.”
Gaara didn’t reply, but his expression spoke volumes of irritation and disbelief. Just who the fuck did this guy think he was anyway?
“Ya work in a BDSM club and ya don’t like watchin’ people play?” Kiba asked, disbelief clear in his voice.
“I didn’t say that.”
“So ya did like it.”
“Didn’t say that, either.” Gaara walked faster, but Kiba matched his pace easily.
“Ya know, yer right: ya do seem reluctant t’chat.”
“I’m pretty observant.”
“Then why are you still talking to me?” Gaara bit out, exasperated. He reached the car and whirled to face the taller man. Gaara didn’t understand why Kiba was bothering him like this, and he didn’t care to find out. The whole situation made warning bells ring with deafening clarity in Gaara’s mind, and he grit his teeth.
Kiba was apparently a regular at the clubs. Gaara definitely didn’t want to spend the next few weeks leery of work because this man would pester him. So he needed to bring this ass up short and shut down any ideas the fucker might have about Gaara.
However, getting on the bad side of one of the regular dom customers – especially one so close to Naruto – could cause problems for Gaara. The owners allowed him quite a lot of leeway already: Gaara may not understand the full spectrum of human emotion, but he did understand that he was not easy to manage.
All of which, of course, meant that Gaara couldn’t threaten to kill Kiba.
That was truly unfortunate.
“’cause I want t’get to know you,” Kiba answered, looking at Gaara seriously and making the redhead feel entirely too…examined.
“No,” Gaara said, thinking he needed this man away from him immediately. “Fuck off.”
Kiba laughed. “So ya do have teeth.” He grinned, showing off pointed canines. Those had to be cosmetically enhanced. “I like a good bite, myself.”
Gaara yanked his keys out of his pocket with a deep frown. “Not interested,” he muttered as he unlocked the car door.
“Let me get that for ya,” Kiba said and reached for the door handle.
Gaara’s eyes widened, and he saw red. Acting before he really thought about it, he grabbed Kiba’s hand, slammed it against the side of the car, and then shoved the taller man back with his wrist bent downward at a painful angle that would hurt but not break. It only worked because Kiba didn’t suspect it was coming and because Gaara’d spent a lifetime attacking quickly and painfully to get the hell away from threat.
But truth be told, the violence startled Gaara just as much as it did Kiba. He must be more agitated than he thought.
Kiba stumbled backward with a surprised noise and clutched at his wrist. Gaara got the car door open and between them. “You don’t touch my car and you don’t touch me,” Gaara said coldly. “Now. Fuck. Off.”
The delighted laugh shocked Gaara enough to make him stop in his act of getting into Beast and burning rubber out of the parking lot. Kiba slung one well-muscled arm in between the car body and the door, effectively making it difficult to shut the door without causing the asshole serious injury.
“Get away from my goddamned-“ Gaara started to shout.
“I know you liked it,” Kiba said – shockingly loud and clear in the quiet night air. He smiled kindly at Gaara, which threw the redhead completely off guard. He blinked at Kiba, not understanding his actions. Most people tended to get pissed after Gaara attacked them; not look at him like he was some sort of adorable misbehaving kitten.
“The show, I mean – what I did in there tonight. I been ‘round all kinds of people and places and scenes, sweetheart, and I know when someone likes what I do and when they don’t. What I can’t figure out is if ya wanted to be me or the bitch.” Kiba studied Gaara intently, and in the light from the safety lamp above them, Gaara saw that Kiba’s eyes were actually extraordinarily pale. So pale they made the pupils stand out in sharp contrast and gave Kiba an unearthly appearance. It was…distracting.
“I never want to be anything but myself,” Gaara said and then frowned. The words shocked him – he wanted to punch this man or break a bone or two, not share feelings like they were in fucking group therapy.
Kiba smiled again and leaned closer. He was an extremely attractive man, Gaara couldn’t help observing. And the observation made him angrier.
“Now there ya go,” Kiba said, air escaping his mouth in white tendrils. “That’s interestin’ and honest. I like you honest…”
Gaara scowled and his eyes went glassy and hard. He pushed the door painfully against Kiba’s intruding arm, making the man wince. But Kiba didn’t – Gaara noticed – break eye contact or try to get away.
“Honesty?” Gaara said. “I can do honest.” He leaned in and bared his teeth in a snarl at Kiba. “I want nothing to do with you or your games. I don’t know what you think you were doing in there, but don’t ever fucking do it again. I’m not some damned sub in need of your goddamned praise, and I’m not interested in you, your shows, or your opinions. Come near me again and I’ll cut your fucking balls off and go to jail laughing about the look on your face.”
“I’d like t’see ya laugh,” Kiba said quickly, gaze still riveted on Gaara’s face. “I bet yer beautiful when ya laugh.”
Gaara made a beleaguered, bewildered noise and gaped at Kiba. It was as though the idiot completely missed the threat – or liked it, one. Gaara released the door and stepped back like Kiba’d thrown a punch. “Stay away from me.”
Kiba removed his arm and smiled in a way that Gaara didn’t like and that made butterflies stir his insides. He couldn’t remember feeling more uncomfortable, and all he wanted was out of there.
“Okay,” Kiba said softly. “For now.”
Gaara didn’t bother to argue the point. He slid into the car and slammed the door. The engine cranked to life and Beast roared out of the space as if the car echoed Gaara’s rage and confusion. ~*~