Chapter Text
Sasuke would say he eats pretty healthy for an adult man that's constantly on the move. Vegetables, fruits, grains, meat... all very regular parts of his diet, along with plenty of exercise and sunlight. The pale boy rarely ever got sick, but when he did, it was always something nasty. And it had to be in order to knock him down enough to leave him lying in bed, praying for the fever to go down or the headache to stop.
He was supposed to continue his journey and move on from the tiny border town in Tanigakure and Sunagakure, but with his fever reading at 40 degrees, he's in no shape to go anywhere. What he really needs is some medicine… If he can just find some medicine, it might help him enough that he can get moving at least to a slightly bigger town with a better doctor.
Unlucky for Sasuke, the inn he’s staying in is apparently extra loud this morning. Something about a special guest? As if he cares. He wipes his feverish forehead and shoots a glare at the ceiling. So now he can’t get any sleep and it’s loud as hell? Fuck this.
Yanking himself from bed, he walks on wobbly legs with his blanket around his torso, all the way to the front room where a young blonde woman stands folding a stack of towels. She nearly jumps out of her skin when she sees him standing there, shirtless in pajama pants, missing an arm, red all over the face, and half falling on the floor.
She gasps, her calloused hands shooting up to cover her mouth. “Oh no, Uchiha-sama, please lie down. I’ve already sent for the doctor and he’ll be by to see you later this afternoon!”
“I can’t wait that long,” he shakes his head, ignoring the pressure and throbbing. “I’m going to just walk.”
“Now really isn’t a good time…” she huffs, putting her hands up to corral Sasuke back where he came from. “We have an important guest preparing to stay with us, so it’s actually for the best if you go back to your room.”
Once more, Sasuke opens his mouth, maybe to tell the blondie to shut up. Or maybe scare her because who gives a shit about their supposed important guest? Nobody could be so important as to make this level of noise at seven in the morning . But just as he starts to do that, an annoyingly familiar woman with brown mousy hair comes around the corner.
Matsuri of Suna? Oh no, not her . And if she’s here then that means…
“Uchiha Sasuke?” he blinks as if surprised to see Sasuke. “Well, this was the last place I expected you to be.”
“Hello, Kazekage.” Sasuke dips his head, bowing lightly, and then once again with a kindly smile when he sees the small one at Gaara’s side. “And Shinki, as well. My greetings for the little Prince of Suna.”
“Please, no need to greet us with our titles. We’re past that, aren’t we?” Gaara gives Sasuke’s flushed face a small smile, putting his arm around Shinki’s shoulder. “I hadn’t known you were in Wind Country, I apologize for not welcoming you properly. Are you stopping in?”
Sasuke glances down at Shinki, taking in the dark black colour of his hair, the deep green of his eyes, and the way he stands there clinging to his father’s sleeve. It’s funny, he really looks just like Gaara, even though they share no genetics. Gaara took him in young enough that he has some of Gaara’s mannerisms, despite this… Cute.
Shinki’s eyes are a lot sweeter though, he can tell just by looking at him that Shinki still doesn’t quite know the sting of battle wounds, nor the pain of developing calluses for kunai and fist fighting practice. What a lucky kid, and he doesn’t even know it… He gets to be this young and childish, with his father being very anti-war in general, Shinki never needs to know the pain of being a child fighting an adult’s war. If that last war was good for anything, then Sasuke is happy he could at least help Gaara provide a safe world for Shinki to grow up in.
Sasuke shivers hard enough to draw the blanket tighter around his shoulders, “I was supposed to leave this morning… but something happened.”
Gaara’s eyes light up with recognition, “Are you unwell?”
Shinki finally looks up, still hiding a little behind Gaara’s leg as he speaks to Sasuke, “You know, Matsuri-sama says that if you’re feeling unwell, you should rest.”
He shakes his head, “I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.”
The plump blonde woman pipes up, “His fever is 40 degrees!”
Damn her. She’s meddling and Sasuke can tell it’s because she knows. She knows, right? She must since she grins at Gaara’s concerned face and looks incredibly smug.
He scowls. How can this total stranger have figured out how Sasuke feels?
Gaara flicks his eyes to hers and then back to Sasuke’s with a glare, “ A 40 degree fever? That doesn’t seem fine.”
“It’s really alright, I insis一”
“ Sasuke , you don’t have to always put up a front to be strong for my sake. Please, would you allow me to walk you back to your room and make you something to eat?” The Kazekage frowns, reaching up to unbutton his jacket. He turns back toward the woman, dipping his head to her. “Pardon the intrusion, ma’am.”
“It’s Shiso! That’s my name.” She chuckles as heartily as she can for being the rare type of someone named after a stupid herb. “For the Kazekage? It’s no problem! Since you and the little prince are staying with us, you’ve drummed up a lot of business for me and my wife, go ahead and do whatever you’d like, handsome. I’ll be in my office if you two need anything.”
The redhead flusters, “Right, thank you… Anyway, Shinki, would you like to accompany us or do you want to go with Matsuri-san for your lesson?”
“What I would like to do, hmm?” Shinki swings his arm back and forth, humming as his ironsand swirls in the air around himself and his father protectively. “As much fun as it would be to talk to Uchiha Sasuke-sama, he is a little ill.”
“That he is…” Gaara smiles a little, “What would you like to do instead?”
“...I would like it if I could be excused for my lesson, please?”
The Kazekage tosses his jacket over his arm and kneels to Shinki’s level, not caring that the knees of his pants are getting dirtied up by the floor. “Alright, you’re welcome to go then. Just be careful and be kind. I’ll come back to the room in a few hours.”
Then he leans down and hugs Shinki, pressing a soft kiss to the top of the boy's head and Sasuke’s heart softens to see it. He knows none of the people his age had particularly good, or even present parents, but he’d be stupid to pretend Gaara wasn’t one of the worse off. Seeing Gaara being a good father despite his lack of role model brings the shadow of a smile to his lips.
He can’t fight it off, and it becomes a full blown smirk by the time Gaara stands back up and faces him after Shinki toodles off.
Gaara flicks his gaze to the floor, doing a very shit job of hiding how embarrassed he is. “I am… I am simply very fond of him, that’s all.”
“I know you are, it’s just… nice, I guess.” Sasuke tries to play it off casually and stuff his hand in his pocket, but his blanket starts to fall and the chill comes back. He grabs it quickly before it starts slipping and watches Gaara’s amused face as he comes closer, grabbing the edges of the blanket from Sasuke’s shoulders and pulls on them to wrap Sasuke tighter, thereby tugging Sasuke closer. “I’m fine, Kazekage.”
Gaara tugs more sharply on the blanket, pulling Sasuke so close now that their noses are nearly touching. The blanket and Gaara’s jacket are pinned between them, stopping any full skin contact even though Sasuke can feel Gaara’s pulse thrumming from just this small amount of contact.
“Are you aware that you are shirtless?”
Shit. “No.”
“I see. I can feel you shivering, Sasuke. I should get you in bed. Come.”
And with that, he lets go and steps into the hallway leading to the wing of the inn that Sasuke is staying in. Gaara turns his head back and gazes at Sasuke with those wide jade eyes of his and scans his face for… something. Sasuke doesn’t know what and he’s not sure he wants to know at all either. “Well?”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Sasuke grumbles, walking next to Gaara as they make their way down the hall.
His room is nearly at the end, and it’s typically a long walk, but Gaara is moving quite quickly today… that or Sasuke is moving slowly. And Sasuke refuses to admit he’s bothered by anything, much less something as stupid as whatever illness is coursing through his body, making his muscles so weak that he can barely walk.
“Tell me, when did you start feeling unwell?” Gaara asks Sasuke, holding his jacket close to his body. Sasuke explains that he’s been under the weather for a few days and the redhead clicks his tongue. “You’ve been suffering for three days, that’s a terrible thing when you are by yourself.”
“Can’t be helped.” Sasuke shrugs, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve his room key while Gaara holds his blanket for him. Ridiculous, he doesn’t have to hold it up for Sasuke and everything, but every time Sasuke just tries to let the blanket drop, Gaara’s hand is right there to grab the edge to keep it from falling off of him. Sasuke sighs, “I prefer to be alone.”
Then Gaara gives him a look like he’s just sprouted three faces, and shakes his head, “We hardly ever are truly by ourselves in this life, though, and the sooner we accept that others want to love us even at our worst, the better off we’ll all be.”
…Since when did Gaara sound just like Naruto, huh?
Sasuke rolls his eyes because Gaara is into the same “love and friendship can save everything” crap that Naruto is. They’re both damn annoying. …But they are both good company, in war and peace times alike. The door unlocks and Gaara waits patiently off to the side for Sasuke to enter first, the two of them taking a moment to kick their shoes off.
Gaara hangs his jacket and then turns to Sasuke with folded arms and a smile as he drags the blanket with him off to the small sofa placed in his room. So he’s finally out of that damned sand suit long enough that he has freckles… Interesting. He really has changed dramatically in the years that Sasuke has known him, all for the better, and all make Gaara for some interesting company.
“Now then, if I’m to help, then I’m best when put to work.” Gaara huffs, putting his hand on his hip to survey the room. Sasuke stands in front of the sofa, watching Gaara from across the room as he digs around in the small kitchenette area. There are a few things, mostly onigiri, but his two week stay to heal from self-set stitches, plus his mystery illness has run him nearly dry.
“Do you have anything to eat that’s a little… better for you?” The ginger asks, closing the door to the fridge. “All I see is day-old tuna onigiri and two empty bottles of sake.”
“Hn, if you’re hungry, breakfast is in一”
Gaara interrupts, “I meant for you, Sasuke, and I know you’re aware of that.”
He cracks a small smile, “If you want to baby me, then I’m of no mind to make that task easy for you. You’re welcome to leave, I won’t be offended and I won’t tell a soul that the Kazekage abandoned me when he felt I needed him most.”
“I will not be known as someone who would do such a thing. Put your stubborn pride away and allow me to help you.” Gaara stamps his foot, sending a small cloud of sand to gather behind his head before he closes his eyes. Then it dissipates, slipping back into the gourd at his side. “I apologize, I was not aware I had it on, you get used to the weight…”
Is he… apologizing for his sand coming to his protection? Ah. So then he still thinks Sasuke perceives it as a threat to him. No, Naruto had the mind to at least give Sasuke the shortened (or at least what Naruto considers shortened) on what had come out about his mother and his father while he was halfway across the country. Thankfully, it made him view the redhead in a different light, but he doesn’t dare to tell Gaara that and make the situation awkward.
No longer does he picture him as this pitiful puppeteered monster in disguise as a diplomat. Something for Suna to parade around like the catch they’re proud of like he’d once thought of Gaara during that Go-Kage meeting all those years ago. Instead, he sees him as the leader he worked for years to be respected as, against assassination attempts from within his own nation and everyone hating him because of how he was made.
Gaara really has always been someone on Sasuke’s side, seeing Sasuke’s half of things, he was just… too blinded by his anger and his hatred to realize that Gaara understood . Naruto wasn’t the only one in his corner for all of these years, but wasn’t Gaara there, too? Wasn’t he always there at Naruto’s side, just as eager to see him succeed and find peace? Blinded by his tunnel vision rage at Naruto, he ignored everyone else that’s been in his corner when he was at his worst.
“It’s reacting to you raising your voice,” Sasuke reasons. His comment takes some of the tension off of the situation and he uses the moment to wait for the anxiety in Gaara’s spine to dissipate before moving on. “Do as you like. I’ve only got one arm, but I’ll do what I can to help.”
He puts his hands up, revealing even paler, soft forearms as he shoos Sasuke off toward the couch again. Gaara glances at Sasuke’s shoulders, hands hesitating for a moment as his pretty jade eyes scan Sasuke’s face for approval. Some look Sasuke is giving him must get registered as permission to continue, or the small noise in his throat signals it was fine, because he puts his palms on Sasuke’s nearly exposed shoulders.
“I insist you settle down.” Gaara speaks softly into the space between them. “I’ll inspect you for the cause of illness after you eat. I’ll speak with Shiso and see if she has anything to lend me.”
Sasuke winces, “I don’t want any debts to anyone.”
“No. Any debt I’ve accrued under my own name is my own.” Gaara shakes his head and then sticks his palm out. “Give it to me.”
“...What?”
“The key.” Gaara says as he pushes his palm closer still to Sasuke’s face. “Give me the room key so you can rest while I get something to make you breakfast that you can eat while sick.”
“Fine.” Sasuke snips, jamming his hand in his pocket and slapping the damn things in Gaara’s terribly soft hands.
He lets his hand linger for a moment… and Gaara lets him. They settle like that for what feels like thousands of years but realistically is more like two minutes. Then, inch by inch, their fingers intertwine and grip each other, softly at first but then more and more firm. The Kazekage makes a soft noise of approval at him, folding his other in his lap.
Then, just as Sasuke begins to lean toward him, almost unaware of what he’s doing, Gaara jerks his head back.
Gaara almost looks embarrassed, standing quickly as he rips his hand out of Sasuke’s grip and he takes a step back toward the door. “I-I I am sorry, Sauske. I will be back with your soup.”
He should apologize, maybe, but saying something will surely make someone as shy as Gaara more upset, so Sasuke simply lets him pass, letting the door slam shut behind him. If he needs a moment or two to cool down by himself, then there’s no need to chase him… and besides, his muscles are starting to weaken the longer he stands and waits for Gaara to return.
Knees wobbling, he collapses onto the couch and stares up at the ceiling. It’s all he has the strength left to do at the moment, since he hardly slept. While he waits, then, he’ll rest his eyes. Who knows how long it will take him to return with enough goods to make a healthy breakfast like this on the fly in the middle of nowhere before noon? Gaara is delusional to expect such things, but he is a spoiled prince, so Sasuke guesses he’s never even seen others deal with such tiresome things.
Sasuke swears he closes his eyes for two minutes at most, but by the time he jolts awake to the sound and smell of coffee being poured into a cup, he can tell at least two and a half hours have passed. A blanket is draped across his still shirtless torso and a pillow has been tucked under his head where he normally rests it. Did he complain to Gaara in his sleep and not remember or did the man just prep him for bed without question?
He slowly sits up, using his arm as leverage since his side and leg are still sore, and makes his way over to the kitchenette area, leaving the blanket behind. It’s plenty warm in the room, after all.
Unsurprisingly Gaara is there hard at work with his body turned completely around as he pours a beaten egg into a pan. He has a pot of some green vegetable boiling, a few sliced fresh vegetables mixed into a salad in a bowl, miso soup with tofu boiling away, and a flowery red-coloured rice cooker full of steaming rice on the small table set up by the window. Where on earth he got any of this dishware is beyond Sasuke’s guessing, since he is pretty sure the hotel didn’t come with all of this, but he doesn’t bother asking.
Knowing Gaara’s demeanor, he simply asked and everyone around him rushed to help him. No idea if that quirk is because Gaara is a prince, a nice guy, or some stupid ass combination of both.
Probably both, yeah.
“You promised me soup and brought me a feast.” Sasuke splays his palm on the counter near Gaara and leans toward him. “That’s not what we agreed on.”
“We did nothing of the sort. I tried to ask what you’d like, but you were asleep and you’re unwell so I didn’t wake you. I resorted to making a full breakfast instead. My hands were tied, Sasuke.”
Sasuke scowls. Damn him. He’s just like Naruto, isn’t he? Always “trying to help” and doing far too much and then Sasuke feels like he owes others. No, he does not want to be in debt to anyone, much less the Kazekage, if he can avoid it.
Gaara scoops rice into two separate bowls, holding one in Sasuke’s general direction as he gestures toward the table with the other. “Breakfast is ready. Come sit and eat with me.”
Sasuke raises his eyebrow up at the Kazekage's actions. Does he want something out of Sasuke or is this just his personality? It's impossible to tell… Either way he doesn't have much of a choice if he wants to stop shaking from exhaustion and hunger. Being sick is using up a lot more of his energy than normal, so he really needs the meal.
He takes a seat at the table, wishing he'd put a shirt on before accepting that Gaara probably doesn't even care.
"You'll get a cold if you walk around like that for long." Gaara chides Sasuke's shirtlessness, gesturing with his chopsticks. " Itadakimasu ."
"Hn." So he was wrong. Whatever. Sasuke blows a piece of his hair out of his face and presses his palms together quickly. "Thank you for cooking. Itadakimasu ."
The redhead practically beams, the best he can in his own soft and subtle way. "It's nothing… I would have been too busy worrying about your condition had I not come to take care of you myself."
Sasuke pauses. Gaara worries a lot for everyone he cares about, this is true… But he's never spelled it out quite like that before. That Sasuke was someone the Kazekage intended to worry about in one way or another.
He takes a spoonful of soup and gives it a taste, nearly sighing in relief when the comfort food finds his stomach.
"It's good," he mumbles, looking at the beautiful matcha green walls. "So, why follow me to my room at all in the first place? You simply could have made something and had it brought to me."
He considers this for a moment, setting his chopsticks down. "There's a saying. If you want it done right, do it yourself."
"So, what, you came along with me for that? It's not like I'm going to tell Naruto that I saw you. In fact, don't tell anyone you saw me here."
Gaara looks confused, then hurt, and then angry right after. Oh no.
"You think this is all for Naruto's sake?"
Isn't it? What's it for if not for Gaara to simply tend to Sasuke? Because he is him, and Sasuke is Naruto's special person, he'd be devastated if anything happened to him. Of course that's why Gaara stopped long enough to do this.
Who else would it be for, if not for Naruto? Sasuke can't think of anyone else who Gaara might treat as special except for Naruto…
Sasuke stares at Gaara a little longer, blinking slowly as he takes in the state of his expression. His body language is more closed off than he's seen it in years, so clearly he hasn't hit the truth yet.
"As if the idea of me caring about you because you are you is so ridiculous," Gaara chuckles dryly. "Can that not simply be the reason I care? That I saw someone I care about, too, in distress and wanted to help?"
"That's not what I一"
Gaara's eyes lock to his. "I do care about your wellbeing, Sasuke."
"Oh."
Surely that's not all Sasuke can say, but it's all that his brain will let him have as Gaara stares him down again. His gaze is less threatening this time and more… curious.
"Sitting there with your jaw hanging open isn't going to get you fed sooner." The Kazekage reaches his hand across the table and pats Sasuke's arm. "We'll discuss after our meal."