Who: Gaara and Matsuri
What: He's finding out his hormones are fucked :|
Where: 919
When: Naaaao.
Rating: PG-13 - M-Maybe R, but definitely not as far as NC-17.
Warnings: LMAO GAARA BEING EVEN REMOTELY SEXUAL OMG ;.;
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'CAUSE YOU KNOW YEAH YOU KNOW THE THRILL! CAN'T FIGHT THE MOONLIGHT~ )
Don't think about it... don't think about it... don't think about it...
Moments later, Matsuri returned her gaze to him and immediately blushed even deeper at seeing his naked chest; gulping nervously, she quickly averted her eyes and clicked open the cap of the bottle, noisily squirting lotion into the palm of her hand and then rubbing it into the other. Keeping her head ducked down, she placed both hands on his arm and slowly began squeezing his hard biceps with her nimble fingers, while unconsciously succumbing to the urge of licking her suddenly-dry lips. His skin felt... very warm, as if he was approaching a feverish state of some kind, not that she could tell for sure what was happening to him. Matsuri silently hoped that the soothing and cool lotion would be able to decrease the temperature, even if just a little.
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His eyes had caught her tongue darting out over her mouth. Gaara's breath hitched just slightly and he forced himself to look away, staring at the ceiling and trying to focus on relaxing rather then becoming that much more tense. His eyes closed, his own tongue darting over his lips, and his mouth was feeling quite a bit more dry then normal. His palms may have been sweating - he couldn't quite tell.
"Matsuri . . ." It came out as a sort of whisper, not filled with any particular emotion, though the rising and falling of his chest could have hinted at the piqued emotions inside of him that refused to die down. "I . . ." He couldn't even find the capability to finish his sentence, however, simply licking his lips again and taking his lower one lightly between his teeth.
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When her hands grew dry, Matsuri poured more lotion into them and hesitated for a second before placing her palms upon his chest, which caused him to jolt slightly at the contact, but she tried to ignore the reaction because calling attention to it would just make the situation even more awkward than necessary. Even though taijutsu was his weakest aptitude, that apparently did not stop him from having hard, lean muscles all over his body, and his chest was a very obvious contrast to the smooth, yielding softness of her own hands... she bit her lower lip a little harder at the exciting notion of having this powerful man under her care.
"G-Gaara-sama...?" Matsuri mumbled softly in response to his sudden whisper, lifting her head just a bit to meet his gaze, and she was unable to hide the slight trembling that infiltrated her voice just then, making the beat of her rapidly-pounding heart sound so much louder in her ears...
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Now he looked at her almost desperately. His heart raced, his skin was still flaming hot despite the cool lotion and her soft touch, and his breath was coming much more shallowly then it had been. His hand went out to grab her wrist as it made it's way across his torso, his eyes closing as he took several deep breaths. What was he going to do? Pull away? Run?
His other arm went around her waist, his inhibitions apparently gone for the moment as he pulled her into the bed as well, holding her on top of him for a brief moment before he rolled them both over. While the one arm remained around her, the other had gone to prop himself up, pressing into the pillow near her head as he gazed down at her.
Hormones. Shuukaku. Moon. Loss. It had to be one of these things. It had to be.
But he would think about those logics later. His mind pushed them all away as he leaned down, his lips connecting with hers in a rather rough and most likely more passionate first kiss then he ever really would have imagined having with anyone, let alone his former student.
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Unless he told her outright, the girl just had the luxury of guessing, but that train of thought was swiftly derailed when he reached out and pulled her on top of him. That act stunned Matsuri to the point of completely freezing up, so she offered no protest when the lean redhead flipped their positions around without warning. Gaara covered her completely, molding every inch of his hard body intimately against her soft curves, and she gave into the initial reflexive instinct of struggling, unknowingly rubbing herself against him in a rather enticing manner.
She lay underneath him, glancing upward with widened eyes, a gasp slipping free of her lips at his unexpected aggression, although deep down inside, a part of her secretly liked what he was doing, even if it didn't make an ounce of sense... Gaara was so reserved, calm, and even emotionless at times that she found it hard to believe he could actually act toward her this way... particularly when he had never show any interest, which just confused the girl the more she tried to reason the situation. Not that she had a lot whole of time to do so.
She parted her lips to attempt asking Gaara a question when his head swooped down just then, cutting off her squeal of surprise with his sudden kiss, and her mouth stayed open while her brain shut down again, forcing her body to react on instinct alone. Her lithe form trembled as he pressed down upon her insistently, bruising her yielding lips with his fiery kiss, and when they parted for the need of air, Matsuri gasped soundly, locking gazes with him and allowing her partner to see the dim flames of desire lingering in her dark ebony eyes.
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They were thoughts he'd always hated having.
When she pulled back from the kiss, her gasp made the slightest of grins twitch at his features, his lips moving instead to her throat, hands roaming down over her curves and feeling her through the fabric. He own desires, he own ache, it only caused him to be spurred on, to want more, to crave more. He used his hips to push her legs apart, pressing himself between her, barred only by their clothing as he did so. He could feel the heat from her skin through the material and part of him had the desire to tear the fabric that was keeping him from her away.
His teeth grazed over the flesh of her throat, his hand that still held her pulling her body as close to his as he could get it. The primitive groan once again erupted from him, despite the efforts to clear his head, to stop himself. He had to regain to control.
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She began to shift restlessly, squirming and moving right against him, and her clothes suddenly felt so tight and uncomfortable... but how could she take them off when Gaara was on top of her? And did she really want to do that...? Just how far was she willing to go with these doubts hovering in the back of her mind? Emotionally, she ached for him; physically, her body was ready and willing to receive him...
Gaara-sama... I feel so... hot...
Heaving an ardent breath, Matsuri slipped her arms around his neck, holding him with endearing affection as her heart continued to race, hesitant about continuing their embrace, and yet not wanting to part from him, because she had waited so long for the smallest sign of romantic desire. Daring to be a little bold, her hands slowly slid down along his sides, her nails curled to drag a light tickling sensation over his skin, stopping at his hips, where his pants were in the way, and with his face near her throat, she leaned her head over to press her cheek against the wiry strands of his dark red hair.
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Gaara's hands finally rose to her shirt, gripping it, tugging at it, and finally deciding it was too much effort to try and maneuver to lift it off. His hand gripped the top roughly before he tore it open, the pieces of fabric breaking rather easily under the force. Her skin exposed, he pressed his chest against hers once more, the feeling of skin on skin far more pleasing to his needs. He wanted - needed - ached for more and her name escaped his lips in a heavy growl because of it.
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Feeling their naked chests pressed against each other caused her to release a shaky gasp that ghosted into the air before vanishing completely. She was mildly alarmed by how easily Gaara had discarded her shirt and bra, tearing through the articles of clothing with zealous need, but that small concern was swiftly overturned by his next action.
His hands felt hot, almost scorching to the touch, when he cupped her soft breasts in his palms and molded them with his fingers, sending sharp tingles of pleasure down her spine. Unable to refrain from expressing her reaction in an openly vocal manner, Matsuri moaned his name throatily, her melodic voice encouraging him.
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He hit the floor with a loud thud, though a layer of sand protected him from the pain anyone would have normally felt. He was on his feet in seconds, staring at her in a mixture of shock, confusion, and fear.
What had he just done?
Grabbing his clothing, he began to dress immediately, his eyes not looking at the now shirtless Matsuri lying in his bed. His breath was still coming heavily, his arousal was still evident, but he his mood had changed entirely. Once he had dressed, he looked at her face for a moment, apology written all over his features. It disappeared quickly, however, the stoicism returning, and he swallowed roughly.
"I. . . apologize for my actions, Matsuri-kun. I will. . . see you later this evening, if I return while you are awake."
Without another word, he nearly ran from the room, slamming the door behind him and going as fast as he could for the library. He had to find out what was causing this. Now.
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His apology made her delicate facial features twist in confusion, and then the girl was caught in a bit of mental turmoil when he suddenly left without warning, the sound of the slammed door ringing loudly in her ears, which was almost enough to override the heavy thud of her heart dropping deep down, descending into darkness.
Had she done something to drive him away...?
Stunned speechless and unsure of what to do next, Matsuri merely pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly in need for comfort, no matter how empty it felt, and she stayed in that position for some time, silently berating herself for committing a wrongdoing that she wasn't even aware of.
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