Fic - Diversionary Tactics
Title: Diversionary Tactics
Rating: PG-13, perhaps a mild R for language.
Genre: Humor
Summery: challenge issued by touch_of_grey37 to write a Gaara/Naruto/Sasuke containing the line “I am never doing that again!” said by Naruto.
Kick, duck.
Centre your mind. Focus, that’s the key, find the focus that Kakashi-sensei is always talking about. Leaf in a breeze, leaf in a breeze, just a leaf…
Bend, sweep left, punch. Back-flip over a slicing tendril of sand. Hit the ground and rebound.
There! The dark blur that is Sasuke weaving his way between explosions of blood-drenched, chakra-infused death. Lock wrists, swing to build momentum, and hurl him straight into ground zero.
Ouch. “Dammit Sasuke! Hit him! Not the ground, him!”
Dodge, kick-kick-kick, Kage Bunshin! Ten clones peel away like the petals of a rose.
“Well, if you could aim, dead-last.” Sasuke’s clipped tones biting through your centre and dissolving the almost-calm.
“Well, if you were more aerodynamic, bastard.” Parrot the same tone back to him, almost got the sneer right this time…
Flip away as sand slams down between you, a photo-negative deadly dance as you spin and recover.
Ten lurches in chakra as your clones die.
A long in-drawn breath to your left - hey, that sounds almost like the beginning of Sasuke’s-
“Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!”
Oh, shit.
Chakra rush to the feet - your control will never be as perfect as Sakura’s but it’s still good enough - bend your knees and leap over the giant flower of fire that explodes from Sasuke’s pretty lips. Slam ten kunai towards the writhing sand that parts in the wake of the Uchiha’s attack to reveal your target. (Gotta take advantage of every opening, Kakashi-sensei would be proud.)
One - two - three… seven hits. Cracks glide across Gaara’s sand armor as his face breaks into the same ‘fear me, I eat puppies’ smile of the first Chuunin-exam. He guides the sand with the cool expertise of one who has worked at it, rather then with just instinct and malice. He’s faster too.
Spin, hit the ground, leap and punch.
Sasuke! Body-slam him away from the column of sand that’s about to grind him into itty bitty bite-sized pieces of grouchy bastard. He flips over and lands in a neat crouch that smears the skin off his palms. Tosses a red-eyed glare your way, and sweeps a handful of flaming shuriken at Gaara’s sand barrier.
Never let it be said that the guy can’t multitask.
His blades impact in pretty little bursts of flame that scorches sand and not much else. Damn.
Gaara spreads his hands fan-wide with surprising grace and twitches his fingers; the sand follows his signals like eager puppies tumbling over themselves to win favour - evil blood-drenched scary-as-hell puppies, but still puppies. And if you ever told Gaara that he’d probably feed you to his gourd.
Don’t laugh. That thing’s scary for an oversized kitchen utensil.
Crouch, dodge sand swipes, kick wide. Sasuke sweeps away to your left flipping between sand strikes and, with that oiled-snake grace of his, slips between Gaara’s inner defences and scythes him across the face with a palmed kunai. Gaara jerks and falls back, his sand armour crumbling and sliding away to reveal one hell of a pissed expression.
Great, Sasuke’s dead. Idiot.
Uchiha lands and twists away. Not fast enough! Sand whip-cracks round, catches his leg, and jerks him back, slamming him into the ground with a force strong enough to snap bones. Sasuke break-falls, slapping his fore-arms down hard enough to bruise but it saves his ribs. He swears in pain and jerks through the seals for another flame jutsu but his arms are deadened from the impact and he fumbles, the jutsu twists out of control and caves on itself. Sand, aware of the danger, fountains down onto his hands and pins them flat to the dirt. He swears in a flurry of language blue enough to shame his poor dead mother before his head is covered and his words drowned.
You should probably rescue him but your poor Jiraiya-trained brain is only throwing up one alternative for a good distraction and if Gaara doesn’t kill you then Sasuke’ll murder you.
Oh the hell with it.
The sand that’s not busy drowning your partner is coalescing into a massive barrier around the pair - strong enough to keep a normal nin out, but, as you’re so often told, you’re not a normal nin.
You’re at least twice as handsome as any regular shinobi for one thing.
Kyuubi’s chakra threads lazily with your own as the beast stretches and uncurls - fangs lengthen, whisker marks stretch, chakra spikes and steadies. You smile.
You charge. Not through, but up. Straight up Gaara’s sand wall on chakra-powered feet, you skid and slide sideways as the sand slips and writhes underneath you and tries to pull you inwards.
Leap, dodge, flip. Land.
Runrunrunrunrun.
Spin past his inner sand coils, leap over a strand that snatches at your legs, little particles of grit slam into your face and threaten to peel away the skin.
No wonder Gaara has no damn eyebrows, jeez.
There! Flood out the Kyuubi’s darker chakra in a wave that blasts the sand back, Gaara’s face is naked, bare of the sand that Sasuke peeled away, he’s used it to shore up the outer defences - mistake - his Taijutsu is almost nonexistent, easy basics that you can bypass with a sweep, flip, dodge. Grab his wrists - they’re surprisingly slender and grate like bird-bones under your grip - and force them down. His eyes are wide, pupils huge within the thin circle of green, vastly different to the pin-pricks of black he used to see the world through.
You crush your lips to his in a gesture that has more to do with violence then sex. His mouth opens in shock under yours, a quick wet tongue flicker - he tastes like sour desert apples, must have eaten some for lunch - his hands writhe in your fingers, but you’re bigger then he is - stronger - and you hold them easily. He shudders, growls and bites through your lower lip with sharp white teeth. Owowowowow!
Bastard. You stamp on his foot.
The sand - frozen around you in a shocked tableau - ripples and shifts uncertainly. Gaara, apparently, is not sure how to proceed. Damn - one more push. You lean back, ignore the blood drooling down your chin, and give him your very best leer:
(You know it’s a damn good leer because you’ve spent the last seven years practicing it in any reflective surface - Sakura almost bust a gut laughing when she caught you at it)
“Hmm… nice eyes. You know, green always was my favourite colour.”
Your inner-pervert wants to kill you. That was the best line you could think of? Jiraiya would be ashamed.
The eyes in question widen momentarily and then narrow into thin black strips - you are so dead. Gaara’s fists clench and the sand flies up, ready to smear you across the desert-
-and then Sasuke slams into your side and knocks you both away as the sand crashes inwards like an avenging tsunami.
You land a good distance away in an ungraceful skid - Sasuke on top of you. He pins you down by the shoulders and shoves his face an inch away from yours, “are you insane?”
He’s as close to frightened as you’ve ever seen him - barring that one memorable incident when you both walked in on Kakashi-sensei and Iruka-sensei in the communal hot springs - his face under the sand and grit is whiter than salt.
You grin disarmingly and shrug, “probably.”
The Uchiha sighs and lets his head thump against your chest, his voice is low and edged with irritation, “Dead-last, repeat after me; ‘I will never-‘”
You dutifully drone, “I will never…”
“’-do that again’.”
“Ah, man. Never?”
“Say it!”
“Sasuke…” Whine, whine, plead, whine.
“Say it or die!” his eyes flicker red and scary.
Sigh. Fine. “’-do that again.’ Happy?”
“…no.”
There’s just no pleasing some people. Speaking of which…
A small, quiet, and infinitely terrifying cough interrupts your train of thought.
Oh. Yeah. Gaara.
You are so dead.
“Um…”
Well, if you’re going to die, you may as well get one last kiss.
Sasuke - frozen on top of you staring at Gaara as if he’s not sure whether to tackle him or pick you up and run like hell - is easy prey for your pounce. You press your lips to his in a gesture that has much more to do with sex then violence. The cut on your mouth stings and blood gets everywhere, but for a short moment everything is wild and sweet and breathless.
Then sand grabs both your arms - and a good chunk of Sasuke’s hair incidentally, as you were busy dragging your hands through it - and yanks you off him, hoisting you into the air.
Sasuke lies rather dazedly at your feet and attempts to focus. Your blood is smeared around his mouth and you want to laugh because he looks almost like he’s been lipsticked by one of his former crazy groupies. Unfortunately, the sand intent on crushing every bit of feeling from your arms is distracting you momentarily.
Gaara, as he’s all spiffy and sand-free, does laugh, but silently - his shoulders twitch just the slightest bit and his mouth quirks at the corners. He yanks the Uchiha to his feet.
As one, they turn and glare at you.
You are so dead.
“Um… can’t we talk about this?”
Sasuke growls and glowers comma-wheeling, red-eyed death, “baka, you swore you’d be serious when we train.”
“It was a diversionary tactic to stop Gaara laminating your dumb head to the desert! And where did you learn to dodge anyway?! Stupid bas- mfph!”
Sand-gag. Ooh, kinky… No! Not kinky! Bad! Very bad! …and sort of itchy…
“Diversionary tactic!” Sasuke looks remarkably incensed for someone who was once described as ‘Konoha’s Ice Prince’.
Gaara flicks his eyes between the two of you and shakes his head, “… it was somewhat effective actually.” He murmurs quietly, efficiently stopping Sasuke mid-explosion and nearly giving you a minor embolism.
Sasuke blinks slowly and his eyes fade back to black. He opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again and manages to say “…what?”
Gaara nods, “surprisingly effective actually, as diversions go…” he seems thoughtful.
Sasuke snaps his mouth shut. You grin under the gag and waggle your eyebrows at them both. You’re ignored.
Gaara seems to reach some sort of decision and glances at Sasuke, “so effective really that we should probably practice it.”
Ha! See Sasuke-bastard, even Gaara agrees! It’s a damn good diver-
Wait….
What?
What?
Sasuke, evil traitorous bastard that he is, smiles in sudden understanding as Gaara places one hand on his shoulder and clenches the other in his Jounin vest.
They press their lips together in a gesture that just has much to do with sex as violence. The sand holding you up trembles and shifts and slackens its hold slightly.
Sasuke groans as Gaara forces his mouth open and presses closer, the Uchiha’s hands clamp onto the Kazekage’s shoulders like iron vices.
The sand drops you in a graceful heap, and you grin as the Kyuubi marks darken on your cheeks.
They are so dead.
Ha, and Kankuro said training would be boring...
Rating: PG-13, perhaps a mild R for language.
Genre: Humor
Summery: challenge issued by touch_of_grey37 to write a Gaara/Naruto/Sasuke containing the line “I am never doing that again!” said by Naruto.
Kick, duck.
Centre your mind. Focus, that’s the key, find the focus that Kakashi-sensei is always talking about. Leaf in a breeze, leaf in a breeze, just a leaf…
Bend, sweep left, punch. Back-flip over a slicing tendril of sand. Hit the ground and rebound.
There! The dark blur that is Sasuke weaving his way between explosions of blood-drenched, chakra-infused death. Lock wrists, swing to build momentum, and hurl him straight into ground zero.
Ouch. “Dammit Sasuke! Hit him! Not the ground, him!”
Dodge, kick-kick-kick, Kage Bunshin! Ten clones peel away like the petals of a rose.
“Well, if you could aim, dead-last.” Sasuke’s clipped tones biting through your centre and dissolving the almost-calm.
“Well, if you were more aerodynamic, bastard.” Parrot the same tone back to him, almost got the sneer right this time…
Flip away as sand slams down between you, a photo-negative deadly dance as you spin and recover.
Ten lurches in chakra as your clones die.
A long in-drawn breath to your left - hey, that sounds almost like the beginning of Sasuke’s-
“Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!”
Oh, shit.
Chakra rush to the feet - your control will never be as perfect as Sakura’s but it’s still good enough - bend your knees and leap over the giant flower of fire that explodes from Sasuke’s pretty lips. Slam ten kunai towards the writhing sand that parts in the wake of the Uchiha’s attack to reveal your target. (Gotta take advantage of every opening, Kakashi-sensei would be proud.)
One - two - three… seven hits. Cracks glide across Gaara’s sand armor as his face breaks into the same ‘fear me, I eat puppies’ smile of the first Chuunin-exam. He guides the sand with the cool expertise of one who has worked at it, rather then with just instinct and malice. He’s faster too.
Spin, hit the ground, leap and punch.
Sasuke! Body-slam him away from the column of sand that’s about to grind him into itty bitty bite-sized pieces of grouchy bastard. He flips over and lands in a neat crouch that smears the skin off his palms. Tosses a red-eyed glare your way, and sweeps a handful of flaming shuriken at Gaara’s sand barrier.
Never let it be said that the guy can’t multitask.
His blades impact in pretty little bursts of flame that scorches sand and not much else. Damn.
Gaara spreads his hands fan-wide with surprising grace and twitches his fingers; the sand follows his signals like eager puppies tumbling over themselves to win favour - evil blood-drenched scary-as-hell puppies, but still puppies. And if you ever told Gaara that he’d probably feed you to his gourd.
Don’t laugh. That thing’s scary for an oversized kitchen utensil.
Crouch, dodge sand swipes, kick wide. Sasuke sweeps away to your left flipping between sand strikes and, with that oiled-snake grace of his, slips between Gaara’s inner defences and scythes him across the face with a palmed kunai. Gaara jerks and falls back, his sand armour crumbling and sliding away to reveal one hell of a pissed expression.
Great, Sasuke’s dead. Idiot.
Uchiha lands and twists away. Not fast enough! Sand whip-cracks round, catches his leg, and jerks him back, slamming him into the ground with a force strong enough to snap bones. Sasuke break-falls, slapping his fore-arms down hard enough to bruise but it saves his ribs. He swears in pain and jerks through the seals for another flame jutsu but his arms are deadened from the impact and he fumbles, the jutsu twists out of control and caves on itself. Sand, aware of the danger, fountains down onto his hands and pins them flat to the dirt. He swears in a flurry of language blue enough to shame his poor dead mother before his head is covered and his words drowned.
You should probably rescue him but your poor Jiraiya-trained brain is only throwing up one alternative for a good distraction and if Gaara doesn’t kill you then Sasuke’ll murder you.
Oh the hell with it.
The sand that’s not busy drowning your partner is coalescing into a massive barrier around the pair - strong enough to keep a normal nin out, but, as you’re so often told, you’re not a normal nin.
You’re at least twice as handsome as any regular shinobi for one thing.
Kyuubi’s chakra threads lazily with your own as the beast stretches and uncurls - fangs lengthen, whisker marks stretch, chakra spikes and steadies. You smile.
You charge. Not through, but up. Straight up Gaara’s sand wall on chakra-powered feet, you skid and slide sideways as the sand slips and writhes underneath you and tries to pull you inwards.
Leap, dodge, flip. Land.
Runrunrunrunrun.
Spin past his inner sand coils, leap over a strand that snatches at your legs, little particles of grit slam into your face and threaten to peel away the skin.
No wonder Gaara has no damn eyebrows, jeez.
There! Flood out the Kyuubi’s darker chakra in a wave that blasts the sand back, Gaara’s face is naked, bare of the sand that Sasuke peeled away, he’s used it to shore up the outer defences - mistake - his Taijutsu is almost nonexistent, easy basics that you can bypass with a sweep, flip, dodge. Grab his wrists - they’re surprisingly slender and grate like bird-bones under your grip - and force them down. His eyes are wide, pupils huge within the thin circle of green, vastly different to the pin-pricks of black he used to see the world through.
You crush your lips to his in a gesture that has more to do with violence then sex. His mouth opens in shock under yours, a quick wet tongue flicker - he tastes like sour desert apples, must have eaten some for lunch - his hands writhe in your fingers, but you’re bigger then he is - stronger - and you hold them easily. He shudders, growls and bites through your lower lip with sharp white teeth. Owowowowow!
Bastard. You stamp on his foot.
The sand - frozen around you in a shocked tableau - ripples and shifts uncertainly. Gaara, apparently, is not sure how to proceed. Damn - one more push. You lean back, ignore the blood drooling down your chin, and give him your very best leer:
(You know it’s a damn good leer because you’ve spent the last seven years practicing it in any reflective surface - Sakura almost bust a gut laughing when she caught you at it)
“Hmm… nice eyes. You know, green always was my favourite colour.”
Your inner-pervert wants to kill you. That was the best line you could think of? Jiraiya would be ashamed.
The eyes in question widen momentarily and then narrow into thin black strips - you are so dead. Gaara’s fists clench and the sand flies up, ready to smear you across the desert-
-and then Sasuke slams into your side and knocks you both away as the sand crashes inwards like an avenging tsunami.
You land a good distance away in an ungraceful skid - Sasuke on top of you. He pins you down by the shoulders and shoves his face an inch away from yours, “are you insane?”
He’s as close to frightened as you’ve ever seen him - barring that one memorable incident when you both walked in on Kakashi-sensei and Iruka-sensei in the communal hot springs - his face under the sand and grit is whiter than salt.
You grin disarmingly and shrug, “probably.”
The Uchiha sighs and lets his head thump against your chest, his voice is low and edged with irritation, “Dead-last, repeat after me; ‘I will never-‘”
You dutifully drone, “I will never…”
“’-do that again’.”
“Ah, man. Never?”
“Say it!”
“Sasuke…” Whine, whine, plead, whine.
“Say it or die!” his eyes flicker red and scary.
Sigh. Fine. “’-do that again.’ Happy?”
“…no.”
There’s just no pleasing some people. Speaking of which…
A small, quiet, and infinitely terrifying cough interrupts your train of thought.
Oh. Yeah. Gaara.
You are so dead.
“Um…”
Well, if you’re going to die, you may as well get one last kiss.
Sasuke - frozen on top of you staring at Gaara as if he’s not sure whether to tackle him or pick you up and run like hell - is easy prey for your pounce. You press your lips to his in a gesture that has much more to do with sex then violence. The cut on your mouth stings and blood gets everywhere, but for a short moment everything is wild and sweet and breathless.
Then sand grabs both your arms - and a good chunk of Sasuke’s hair incidentally, as you were busy dragging your hands through it - and yanks you off him, hoisting you into the air.
Sasuke lies rather dazedly at your feet and attempts to focus. Your blood is smeared around his mouth and you want to laugh because he looks almost like he’s been lipsticked by one of his former crazy groupies. Unfortunately, the sand intent on crushing every bit of feeling from your arms is distracting you momentarily.
Gaara, as he’s all spiffy and sand-free, does laugh, but silently - his shoulders twitch just the slightest bit and his mouth quirks at the corners. He yanks the Uchiha to his feet.
As one, they turn and glare at you.
You are so dead.
“Um… can’t we talk about this?”
Sasuke growls and glowers comma-wheeling, red-eyed death, “baka, you swore you’d be serious when we train.”
“It was a diversionary tactic to stop Gaara laminating your dumb head to the desert! And where did you learn to dodge anyway?! Stupid bas- mfph!”
Sand-gag. Ooh, kinky… No! Not kinky! Bad! Very bad! …and sort of itchy…
“Diversionary tactic!” Sasuke looks remarkably incensed for someone who was once described as ‘Konoha’s Ice Prince’.
Gaara flicks his eyes between the two of you and shakes his head, “… it was somewhat effective actually.” He murmurs quietly, efficiently stopping Sasuke mid-explosion and nearly giving you a minor embolism.
Sasuke blinks slowly and his eyes fade back to black. He opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again and manages to say “…what?”
Gaara nods, “surprisingly effective actually, as diversions go…” he seems thoughtful.
Sasuke snaps his mouth shut. You grin under the gag and waggle your eyebrows at them both. You’re ignored.
Gaara seems to reach some sort of decision and glances at Sasuke, “so effective really that we should probably practice it.”
Ha! See Sasuke-bastard, even Gaara agrees! It’s a damn good diver-
Wait….
What?
What?
Sasuke, evil traitorous bastard that he is, smiles in sudden understanding as Gaara places one hand on his shoulder and clenches the other in his Jounin vest.
They press their lips together in a gesture that just has much to do with sex as violence. The sand holding you up trembles and shifts and slackens its hold slightly.
Sasuke groans as Gaara forces his mouth open and presses closer, the Uchiha’s hands clamp onto the Kazekage’s shoulders like iron vices.
The sand drops you in a graceful heap, and you grin as the Kyuubi marks darken on your cheeks.
They are so dead.
Ha, and Kankuro said training would be boring...