The unrelenting sun reflected brilliantly and terrifyingly off the glass surface of the building before her. The purpose behind her stride through the multitude of passersby was no more noble than her reason for being there. Her dark hair was pulled tightly into a bun that pulled her countenance skyward. The morsels she caught from passing talkers made her feel small, as the never-ending walkway led her to the revolving doors. This better work.

Why the fuck am I even doing this anyway? This man hasn't seen me since we were children and he still thinks my father broke up his parents' marriage. I can see it now. Before I can even make my case, he's going to have me escorted out of the building by some disgruntled muscle-bound security thug who's going to grope me and I forgot my mace in the car and the parking garage is too far away and these shoes are cutting off my circulation and I feel lightheaded because I haven't eaten since last night and…

He mental rambling was blown away by the refreshing breeze of the doorway and the tantalizing smell of the new facility. Suddenly she could feel the beads of sweat seeping through her foundation and made its journey down the line of her neck.

Her heart pounded with such a ferocity against her chest that she expected it to knock her onto her face. She could feel the deep pounding traveling to her blistering feet as the effects of the unbearable heat wore off with an almost comical slowness.

The first floor was designed like a throne. It jutted out at her flagrantly and dauntingly, almost daring her to take another step. There were three receptionists at the desk, each wholly preoccupied with their tasks. Marcia was suddenly left with the notion that approaching one of them would be somehow criminal. She soon saw a glimmer of hope with the one farthest to the left who had just finished directing someone to the elevators.

The younger man looked up at her from over his black rimmed glasses. His hair was curly about his head and the hair oh is ace speckled his chin sporadically over his paisley button-up and pin-striped tie. His laminated badge indicated that he was from Austin. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon", she said nervously. "I have an appointment with Mr. Uzumaki."

He gave her the slightest hint of disbelief before looking down and typing furiously on the computer between them. His minimal glance set her hopes on fire. He looked at the screen in silence for a few moments before asking, without looking up, if she had a security clearance.

"I'm not sure, I spoke with a woman named Caroline yesterday. I'm guessing that's one of his assistants, she told me come to his office today at noon. My name is Marcia Murchison", she gulped before continuing her entreaty. "I'm a relative."

The slight look of disbelief returned to his face, cutting her like a thin blade. He sighed with a cold condescendence as he picked up the glossy black phone receiver next to him. He pressed the number on the home pad flippantly, making Marcia feel like a child in a building full of busy adults with no time for nonsense. He waited a few moments before asking the person on the other end if she knew anything of Marcia's appointment. She could tell the person on the other end had confirmed her presence, yet instead of it breaking up his tightly packed disbelief, it seemed to further solidify it. A frustrating lump formed in the back of her throat as she fought the urge to turn and leave.

His attitude changed slightly as he hung up the phone.

"Ok, you're going to go to the elevators around the corner to the left. Mr. Uzumaki's office is on the fifty-third floor, his assistant should be able to direct you from there."

Marcia had already started toward the other pavilion before he finished his sentence. She did so feeling liked she'd just warded off yet another monster in her quest to battle the foe that commanded them all. Her erratic heartbeat returned as she waited for that dreaded ding, the ding that would decide her fate, that would decide the destination of her soul after the magnificent tolling of the bell. The light on the button she pressed faded out along with every ounce of breath in her body. Would he still remember her? Of course, he would. How could he forget the daughter of the faggot who ruined his parents' nightmarish marriage? She reached for her phone to check the time, when the deafening ding hit her like a brick wall.

The blindingly shiny doors parted to reveal a host of suited individuals who nearly knocked her over exiting the elevator. She braced herself for the most daunting ride of her life. Much to her relief all the occupants exited the elevator, leaving her to suffer the ride to her destination alone. Her thoughts bounced about the inside of her skull like racquet balls. She had seen him several times in the news since they last saw each other. She was slightly younger than him, yet she could vaguely remember his young blameless face watching her from beside his father. His judging and condemning eyes followed her up every floor until that awful ding found her once again.

Minato's floor was expansive and had two levels of its own. The entire space was a white as fear, only a few miniscule colored imperfections caught her eye. A glass staircase next to the exit of the elevator led up to a banister-like walkway that led to a large glass room. She gulped begrudgingly before taking the first heavy steps to the receptionist's desk. This time there were only two women at the desk. They both looked at her enticingly. They were young women, they looked like they were in their mid-twenties. Their red lipstick pervaded the jarring whiteness of the large floor. Suddenly a tall man in dark business attire caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. He was talking to another tall, older man outside of the large glass office. She was too preoccupied with whether he noticed her to realize that her slow steps had already led her to the desk. The receptionists broke her internal silence, and she was immediately filled with the sound of the busy floor.

The blonde one on the left spoke first

"You must be Mrs. Murchison."

She forced a smile onto her moist lips. "Y-yes, I'm here a little early."

"It's fine, it looks like his meeting with his last client is just wrapping up." She motioned with her head toward Minato and the older man who were now shaking hands and preparing to part.

And just as a flame engulfs a match, Minato's gaze shifted to the woman at the center of the floor. His expression changed from one of congeniality to one of curiosity, an inquisitiveness so acute that Marcia nearly forgot why she'd even bothered to come. His frigid eyes stopped her train of thoughts immediately. Verbally he didn't acknowledge her, and after a few weighted moments he returned to the glass, observatory-like office. She wasn't sure if he'd changed his mind or if that was her signal to come inside. He went up to the second floor of the office and sat down at his desk. He pressed a button on his desk that corresponded to a blue light that flickered on the device in the other receptionist's ear.

"Mr. Uzumaki will see you now."

Her words sounded more like the voice of her executioner telling her to take her last steps. She painfully swallowed the lump in her sore throat and started toward the large glass room. For some reason, she began wishing she had been born a man. She felt as if her breasts were in her way and she wanted them gone. She wanted to pierce the core of her existence to bring about some radical change that would make Minato take her seriously. The idea of asking him for money began to seem sillier as she approached and it was completely laughable by the time she reached the door. The entire floor grew colder, and oddly enough it looked several degrees hotter. The door handle shocked her and filled her head with thoughts of predestination. Was this meant to happen this way? She felt a tinge of guilt for contemplating letting the old man just die, especially since his only son wouldn't at all be opposed.

No, this isn't about Harold. This isn't even about Minato. This is about my father. He's done so much for me and Gregory. He would do anything for us, and this is something that I have to do. I can't go back on anymore of my promises to him.

The worst he can say is no…Well, I could also exacerbate the shit out of Harold's already shitty relationship with his son. There's a possibility that he might think that Harold sent me. It's not like I give a shit. If I were Harold I would have given up a long time ago, but it's not my place to destroy someone else's hard work. I mean, coming to that conclusion is a bit of a reach, but let's remember who we're talking about. This man's been angry and bitter all his life at his parents, I guessing reaching isn't that much of a reach if you really think about it.

I'm going to regret this.

Marcia struggled to open the stubborn and thick glass door. The deafening silence found her quickly as she walked in and the door closed behind her. She could hear him upstairs typing, but he didn't make the slightest effort to greet her when he knew she was in his office. She waited for a moment for his invitation, and when it didn't come after about a minute of her standing in front of the stair case. Suddenly she was reminded of that scorned and judgmental boy from all those years ago, his innocence and purity stained by the sins of his parents.

She started up the stairs. His typing stopped periodically, playing an awful game with her mind. The air thinned closer to the top. She felt like she was going to pass out. It became less clear why she was there at all. She wished she had listened to her better judgement, and just let the old man die. He shouldn't have waited so late to fucking say something.

The view of his messy work space rose like a screen. He didn't acknowledge her as she came up the stairs and it killed her. She stood at the top of the staircase wondering how long he'd keep her in anticipation. She was beginning to grow frustrated with his stoicism and began to remember her earlier opinions of him being a shitty son.

The workspace was littered with extraneous pieces of paper, coffee cups and boxes. His desk, like the floors and exterior, was made of mostly glass. She dreaded the thought of a flying stone sending them all to an early grave. She held her purse in front of her as she contemplated who was going to speak first. The circumstances around their last meeting plagued the silent office compound. He stopped was he was doing and pushed back slightly from his desk. He looked up at her with a peculiar expression, not knowing quite what to say, or what he was about to hear. Marcia's frustration got the best of her and she decided to speak first.

"Hi." She gave a nervous wave before looking around the messy space.

"Hi", he returned nervously, half-way standing to motion with his large hand to one of the odd-looking chairs in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat."

He was sure she requested audience with him to get him to make amends with his father, yet the nature of her relationship with his father was ambiguous - making it difficult for him to write the situation off. He knew their fathers were living together, but he'd lost all notions of her after the day they met.

"Thank you", she said as she stepped around the left chair and sat down in the right. She placed her purse down on the, the metal buckle clanking on the glass surface. When her gaze returned to the man in front of her his hands were clasped in front of him on the desk.

The uncomfortable silence returned. As the instigator of the meeting, she didn't know how to fill the gap between pleasantries and the actual purpose of her visit. She began to regret not thinking of an outline or blueprint during the seemingly endless trek up that point.

"It's been a while", he said.

"I'd say so", she said with a hint of a laugh. "I think I was five? …Or maybe six? I can't remember anything anymore."

"Just another thing age takes away from you, I suppose."

She laughed on the inside at the irony of his comment.

"I guess so."

Before the silence of the room could take another breath, Minato spoke again.

"What are you up to these days?"

She was surprised at his attempt at cordiality.

"I own a beauty salon and spa over in east LA", she said with dignity. "That and raising my son." She said the last statement with more dignity than the first. She immediately felt silly for letting her opinion of him slip, she was never any good at begging. She began to hope he ignored the inflection in her voice.

"I didn't know you had a son."

"Yes, his name is Gregory and he's thirteen."

"That's a fun age", he said with a nostalgic smirk.

"Yeah if you define fun as teen angst, constant brooding and an endless stream of girls calling my house…"

His own reality punctured his inquiry and interest in the conversation.

"He's my world though", she said with an unshakeable fondness. Her expression asserted her love for her son. Her love in that moment was like a garden that never ceased to bear. She quickly stopped herself from losing herself in it and scanned the room.

"It looks like you've done pretty well for yourself."

"I'd like to think so."

"The energy sector would like to think so too."

His curiosity of her visit stopped him from reacting to her comment.

He exhaled through his flaring nostrils. "I'll be honest with you. When my assistant gave me your name I told her to block your calls and not to bring it to my attention anymore. You should credit you being here to your persistence alone. I'm unabashed in saying how I want nothing to do with your family."

She was relieved in a sense. The deepest part of her wanted it this way, as she was never well-equipped for flattery or lies.

"Yes, I gathered that much when you cut your father off after he married mine."

"With all due respect", her said bitingly. "Unless this has anything to do with my father, I would prefer to leave him out."

Marcia looked at him with a such a fierce incredulousness that her mouth gaped open. She chuckled in disbelief and then released a laugh from that same deep part of herself. It was the part that resented the old man for ruining her father's life. It was the part of her that pitied rich families for allowing their money to turn their heads to mush and hearts to stone. The laugh was exasperated, angry and judgmental, leaving Minato at a loss for words. She had to stop herself from letting the laugh get the best of her, lest she foil the purposes of the trip to the dreadful building.

"You would prefer to leave him out? Ha! If only I had the luxury of leaving him out", her sarcastic smile faded. "You haven't had the grand displeasure of his existence for the past thirty years! I have, and so has my father. I would give my last breath to see the day when I could leave your father out of this. It salts my wounds that I'm unable to leave your father out of this. It fills me to my limit with anger and frustration that I can't leave your father out of his. I'm running out of analogies, feel free to jump in."

Minato began massage his palm onto his forehead. "I'm guessing this has a lot to do with my father."

"No", she said from her deep place. "It doesn't have a fucking thing to do with your father." She reached down into her purse and pulled out a stapled packet of papers with the hospital's logo on them and tossed them onto the table.

Minato paused, staring at her souring expression before reaching for the papers. He looked at her over the top edge of the pages before his thick brows knitted together furtively. His icy blue eyes scanned the first page quickly before flipping to the next. His eyes stopped somewhere along the center of the page and his brows parted. The emotion drained from his face like pus from a boiling wound, sinking slimily into some disgusting place of obscurity. His heart, still off its stark axis from Naruto's absolute admission, sank like a deflated ship deep into the cold and endless folds of his darkest fears. He had known this day was approaching, yet time dangled his father's life and decisions above him, taunting him for one and chastising him for the other.

He pretended to read the rest of the document, but the rest didn't matter much to him any more than it did before. He searched desperately for the mechanism in him that allowed him to displace pain with practicality, a search that was beginning to fail him miserably. He put the papers down in front of him, afraid to speak for fear of letting her see the exposed, soft, viscous surface of his panic and guilt. He'd been a spoiled child for a lifetime and it was beginning to catch up with him.

They sat in silence again.

Marcia almost felt guilty from giving him the information in such a manner, but then remembered her charge. He's the one who ignored his father for thirty fucking years.

He released a quick exhalation, and began to regret allowing her to come in the first place.

"Why are you here…"

Marcia stopped to find words that would keep him from calling security to escort her out.

"Your father is dying – quickly", she said looking down expressionlessly at the desk between them. "The cancer is spreading faster than the oncologists expected. At this rate, they're not giving him any longer than a year."

Her words landed on Minato like stone.

"Whether you think their marriage is legitimate means nothing to me", she said coldly. "I'm the one who's been looking after of them after you left."

"…..."

"Nothing can separate them. Not even death", she spoke gravely. "Although their relationship has been a thorn in my side since the day they met, even I can't deny how much they love each other. You should see the pathetic way your father sinks like a parched flower whenever mine leaves for any extended period of time. It makes me sick to my stomach."

Minato glared across the desk at her. "Their 'blessed' union doesn't exactly warm my heart either."

She shot him a glance of a similar air. "Forgive me for assuming, but I'm pretty sure our reasons for disapproval are a bit different."

He sighed, massaging the aching muscles of his forehead. "Not that I feel any pressure to explain myself, but I don't believe two men can leave perfectly happy marriages and fall helplessly in love with one another out of the clear blue."

"There are a few holes in your analysis."

"Like?"

"For one, their relationship didn't come out of the 'clear blue'. Our fathers' relationship started before the both of us were born", she stated emphatically. "And for the record, my father didn't leave my mother. They had a beautiful marriage before she died. Your parents, on the other hand, spent every day and night inventing ways to torment one another at your expense."

"Self-righteousness ages you terribly."

"There's a chance he can live."

"….."

"Your father can't afford treatment, and if he doesn't receive it in the next few months his time gets cut in half."

"…."

"Believe what you want about what your parents did to you. But when your father dies, so will mine." The air settled around them. Marcia suddenly felt her time in the glass cage beginning to expire. She stood to her feet purposefully hooking her purse over her left shoulder.

She looked down at her hands as she stood before him.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to watch the person you love waste away?" She looked at him. The sunlight fell over her stone expression. He quickly averted his eyes.

"…."

"My father and I are the only people he has left now. After you and the rest of his family left him out to dry, we were the only ones who even cared if he was alive. I can't help him, and neither can my father."

Minato glowered up at her, still resting his chin against his intertwined hands. She took deep breath.

She stepped closer to his desk. "You're the only person left who can help him."

"Get out of my office."

She stopped. She looked away briefly before returning to his shame-stained face.

She smiled sardonically and relentingly lifted her hands. "I apologize for wasting your time. I didn't realize how hard this must be for you. I'm not a greedy ungrateful shit who's hates my parents."

He shot to his feet, his face stopping inches from hers. "I said get the fuck out of my office you fucking cunt!"

The veins bulged from his neck and his eyes were reaching for her. She smiled to herself.

She reached down and grabbed a piece of paper and pen from his desk. She handed it out to his motionless body.

"Here. Write it down. Whatever it was that made you so mad at your father. Write down how furious you are that your cock-sucking father left your drunken, cocaine-snorting mother for another faggot. Write down how pissed you are. How unbelievably angry you are. Write the story. Have a drink. Get it off your chest. Make a memoir. I hope its therapeutic for you. Only, it won't matter when they lower your father's disease-ridden body six feet into the ground, and you let it happen." She let the pen and paper fall to the ground.

Minto's expression of hatred began to harden. Marcia turned around and began to make her way down the stairs.

"You still haven't given me a good enough reason."

"I'm an adult; I don't have to give you a good enough reason."

"I feel like you do."

"I definitely don't."

"I think you do."

"Cool, because I don't."

"Ok, now you're just stalling."

"If I was stalling, that would imply that I'm trying to prolong this topic to leave time for something else, when the exact opposite is true."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive."

"Great, so when can we send for your things?"

"I'm not moving in with you!"

"See? That's the attitude that makes me think you want to move in with me."

"How does me saying, 'I don't want to move in with you' bring you to that conclusion?"

"If you really didn't want to move in with meT you wouldn't have gotten so pissy about it just now."

"I'm pissed because you won't fucking drop it."

"See? You're getting mad again."

Gaara massaged his temples. "Naruto…"

"Oh, come on, it would be the perfect arrangement. You would have everything you'd need."

Gaara scowled at him from across the table. "This has nothing to do with my needs."

"There are a lot of ways you can benefit from this."

"Like what?"

"Well you wouldn't have to travel so far every day. My place is closer to your college and all of your jobs, which you wouldn't need because you wouldn't have to pay rent."

"And why, pray tell, would I not have to pay rent."

Naruto scoffed. "Give me a little credit, Gaara. I don't need help with the bills."

"Let me guess. In exchange, you want me to cook your meals, do your laundry, clean your place and give you unlimited access to my anus."

"Well, 'unlimited' may be pushing it a little."

"Forget. It."

"Well, rent is going up these days. Maybe unlimited access wouldn't be so bad."

"I really don't like you right now."

"Do you ever get tired of playing hard-to-get?"

"Not nearly as tired as I am of you asking me to move in with you."

"In my defense, you listed like four things, if you feel like you wouldn't be contributing. Seems like a pretty fair exchange to me."

"I will not be your servant."

"What if I do the cleaning?"

"Naruto!"

"Ok, ok, what if we keep the other stuff and we just keep the place messy?"

"You know, with the fact that you've been stalking me for the past five months, you're not making a very case for yourself."

"Considering how red you're turning, I'd beg to differ", Naruto said. "Your mother thinks this is a great idea."

Gaara nearly choked. "Excuse me?!"

"I didn't tell you? We talked about it earlier this week."

"No, you absolutely did not fucking tell me!"

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal. Don't you two talk anymore?"

"I have had enough of you and my fucking mother conspiring behind my back."

"Not conspiring, expressing concern. Your aunt thought it was a pretty good idea too."

Gaara expression melted into one of fear and frustration. He buried his finger into his red hair. "I can't believe this. My family is selling me off."

"Stop being dramatic."

"Dramatic?! I have the right to be as dramatic as I fucking want to be. You've been stalking me for the past five months and secretly convincing them that I should move in with you. What's next? My hand in marriage?!"

"Words have power, baby", Naruto came closer and reached for Gaara's hand, only to have it yanked away.

"Don't even think about it you creep."

"Can you blame them?"

"Yes, I can."

"Think about it. I'm sane, I have a few coins in the bank, have a nice place, not to mention how crazy I am about you. I'm a catch", he said cockily. "They probably think they're doing you a favor."

"Look, my apartment may be in a bad neighborhood, and I may be working three jobs, but it's still my life", Gaara said pointing at his chest. "I don't need you or my family to help me."

Naruto chuckled. "That what I love about you."

"What?"

"When I was twenty-one, I wasn't nearly as strong as you are."

Naruto took a generous sip of red wine. His younger counterpart began to fidget uncomfortably in his chair. The conversation hit a stopping point, much to Naruto's dismay, for the last thing he wanted was to hear the words of those around him.

The restaurant was moderately populated. Gaara grew thankful that no one could hear their conversation. The wealthy host of customers seemed to ignore their presence altogether, excepting a fan who asked for a picture with Naruto when they came in. Naruto was still dressed in his endorsement attire and the lights from around them eerily sequestered them from the tables surrounding. Suddenly, he noticed the familiar faces around them.

Gaara began to scan the room. "Is there some sort of gala going on tonight?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Look around, Naruto", he said quickly looking back into the table after a senator caught him staring. "I just saw like two singers and a handful of congressmen just now."

"Yeah, so what?"

Gaara's green eyes snapped over to Naruto. "So, what? That guy just won like eight Grammy's last year."

"This is a pretty exclusive spot, Gaara. They make it hard to get a table for a reason", Naruto said motioning with his head across the restaurant to a small window where several faces and cameras were pressed frantically against the glass. The sight caught Gaara off guard. He soon began to feel guilty for trying to escape the evening's plans.

"Now you see why I couldn't cancel tonight?" Naruto raised an eyebrow, somehow signaling to Gaara their age gap.

"I'm sorry", Gaara said as his resolve deflated. "I mean, I knew this place was exclusive, but I didn't know it was restricted."

"Are you really sorry?"

Gaara felt an uneasiness in his stomach. "Yes, I am."

"Really sorry?"

"Yes, Naruto, I'm sorry I almost canceled."

"Sorry enough to move in with me?"

"You're a fucking pig and I hope someone smokes you on the spit one day."

"What the fuck is a spit?"

"Us country bumpkins use it a nickname for a barbecue pit", Gaara seethed. "I'm not moving in with you and I'm absolutely not going to that stupid party with you."

"Baby, my heart can't take two heartbreaks in one night."

"Tough. Take a Vicodin and stop calling me baby."

"What else am I supposed to call you?"

"I don't know, my name maybe?"

"Oh come on, I've never gotten to use pet names before."

"My heart hurts for you. It truly does."

"What about Babe?"

"…."

"Sweetheart?"

"…."

"Gaa-Gaa."

"…"

"Honey."

Gaara began to scowl at him again.

"Am I getting warmer?"

"You don't want me to answer that question."

"You're being awfully mean to me tonight", Naruto smirked mischievously. "Most people bring their dates here to get them to put out."

"Once again, not making a very good case for yourself."

"Why won't you come with me?"

"Were you not listening to me this afternoon? First of all, I've been out with you before. You don't know how to keep your hands to yourself when you drink. I would prefer for the governor of California and his wife not to see their godson with a handful of my ass and his tongue down my throat. Secondly, and perhaps most importantly, every homophobic, racist, classist politician, family member and family friend at your godparents' mansion is under the impression that I am a woman. As you can see", he said motioning down at his manhood. "Not exactly the case."

"First off, that was one time and I didn't grab your ass, it was barely as squeeze. And I don't care what impression they're under. I love you and if they love me, they should be able to accept you as a part of me."

His word choice confirmed something deep in the pit of Gaara's stomach, causing him to pause momentarily.

"What's wrong?"

"I just don't want to mess up all the things you've worked so hard for."

"So you mean you'd be ok with being a secret forever?"

Forever?

"Can I be honest with you, Naruto?"

Naruto's blue eyes sparkled with concern as he reached over and grabbed Gaara's hands. "Of course, Gaara. You can tell me anything."

Here goes nothing.

Gaara looked away, as if to find his estranged courage, before finding Naruto's worried face. "I love you."

Naruto looked right and left again in anticipation. "Is that it? I thought we already established that."

"No, it's more than that. I would never forgive myself if I cost you your family or your career."

"Who says I can't have both?"

"Uh…your family...and the NFL."

"Well, I have a feeling I can land on my feet, especially if I have you with me."

"You would risk all of that for me?"

Naruto smirked. "I'm here, aren't I?"

The decay of the day and Harold's colon began to piss him off just as Gabriel walked through the door. The apartment was frighteningly silent, as if time was holding his breath before the release of a mighty gale of regret and loss. The younger man stopped in the doorway for a moment, feeling ashamed for avoiding him. He locked the door and stood facing the cracked white paint, afraid to turn around to see the frail sickly truth.

"I thought you were going to the store."

Gabriel cringed from his gut at the ghostly voice greeting him at the door. He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned around to see the haunting skeleton on the sofa. Harold's sunken blue gaze staggered over to him, as if to siphon a sustaining drink of Gabriel's life.

"I left my wallet on the dresser this morning." He walked across the living room to the bedroom, fighting to avoid eye contact with him. Harold looked up at him from the sofa as he walked by, guilt grinning maniacally and silently in the corner.

He could hear the leather sliding off the rough surface of the dresser in the bedroom. Gabriel's shadow stood still; Harold couldn't hear his breath anymore. The fact that he'd been at home for most of the day prompted him to get up. He poured his weight onto his stiffly crackling knees and took the few steps to the doorway of the bedroom.

Gabriel snapped his attention to the taller man in the doorway with tears in his eyes. Harold's heartrate began to accelerate as he placed his bony hand on the doorway. Gabriel saw the gesture and began to swell with anger at any potential apology or expression of regret over the situation.

He looked down, wiping his face hurriedly. "I'm fine."

"You're crying."

Gabriel's brown eyes shot up at Harold. "I said I'm fine."

"Okay", said Harold, relenting hastily.

A silent pause fell between them, as they both internally fought to quell their curdling resentment for each other. While one brooded over the pathetic fallibility of his partner, the other silently raged against the persistent compassion of his. Gabriel opened the note app on his phone.

"What all do you want from the store?"

"We just need some more water, and more ibuprofen."

"I thought the doctor told you to take aspirin instead."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"What's wrong?"

He sighed. "Okay, don't panic, but the aspirin is giving me a bit of a cough."

"That's what you get for smoking through your forties."

"No…I'm starting to um… cough up a little blood."

Gabriel's eye bulged. "What the fuck Harold!"

"It's just a little blood. It's pink."

He massaged his temples. "Why haven't you told me? The doctor said to let him know right away if this happens. You've been on aspirin for almost two weeks now."

He scrambled momentarily to find a plausible lie. "I just noticed it today."

Gabriel exhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner."

"It's fine. I'll just call him tomorrow to figure something else out."

"I'll do it."

"It's fine Harry."

"No, Gabe, it's bad enough you're working twice as much now just to keep us here. The least I can do is take care of myself."

"Fine, I won't argue with you. Call the doctor", Gabriel said walking back into the living room. "Did you get the mail?"

Harold followed him with a stack of envelopes and handed over Gabriel's half of the stack. The younger man began to sift through his stack as Harold sifted through his, a habit they had formed. Gabriel came across a heavily stuffed brown envelope with a government seal on the front.

Harold noticed the emblem over the brim of his glasses. "What's that?"

"Probably the highway patrol pissed off at me for taking the tollway again."

"I told you to stop doing that. You know you don't have a tag."

Gabriel opened the thick envelope to reveal a wooden red mesh card with golden trim. The fluorescent light from the kitchen bounced off the shining surface and into Gabriel's eyes, making him wince slightly. He opened the letter and read the translucent lettering.

From the Provincial Governing Estate of California, Presiding Governor Thomas Priebus Rankin & Janice Rankin

To the current address of Senior Professor of English Studies at the University of California at Los Angeles – Gabriel Murchison

His heart plummeted into his gut as he read the dreadful summons. His heartrate calmed when Harold returned to the bedroom to read the rest of his own mail, leaving Gabriel to make all the guilty connections to the contents and originator of the invitation. He made sure was safely in the room and reached to grab his car keys and wallet.

"Harry…"

"Yeah", he answered from the bedroom over sounds the sounds of his mail cutter.

"Text me what you need from the store, I'll be back in a bit."

Gabriel walked toward the door, each step adding another year to his sentence. He felt Harold's tears condensing at the crown of his head and under his arms. He held the invitation close to his chest as he exited the apartment and locked the door behind him. He walked down the cracked concrete steps, past the whining cats at the last step, past the dogs feasting on the dumpster, and into the front seat of his car. The sun was setting, and the neighborhood was beginning to simmer with the blessed noises of the night. The noise of the city came to a staccato stop as the door closed.

He shut his eyes tightly, foolishly wishing the envelope was addressed to someone whose spouse wasn't terminally ill.

He opened his eyes.

On this Twenty-Fourth day of June of the Year Twenty-Seventeen

We cordially invite you to the Formal State Event of Janice Rankin at the Governor's Estate on Sunday the Eighth Day of September

As a Guest of Governor Rankin and the Chairman of the California State Board of Higher Education.

(RSVP Information Enclosed)

Gabriel quickly picked up his phone.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, secretly wishing no one would answer.

"Hey Dad."

"Where have you been?"

"I told you, I had to take care of something for the salon."

"What did you have to do?"

She paused.

"I had a meeting with one of our investors for the salon."

"That took all day?"

"Dad, drop it, it wasn't that big a deal."

"It must've been a big deal if it took all day", he said with suspicion rising in his voice.

"Dad, why did you call me? You never call me this late unless something is wrong."

"I'm in trouble, Marcia."

"Don't tell me you got another highway ticket. I told you to stop taking the tollway. You know you don't have a tag."

"It's not about the fucking tollway!"

"Then what's the problem?"

"The fucking governor of California just invited me to the event next month, the one they've been talking about all over the news."

Marcia sighed. "Dad, I told you to stop subscribing to those sweepstakes magazines."

"Marcia, listen to me. The Chairman for High Ed in California invited the English Department from UCLA. The invitation has the state seal and everything."

There was a short pause. "Oh shit."

Gabriel smacked his forehead.

She released an exuberant laugh. "That's fucking awesome Daddy! Finally, someone is recognizing you for all your work with all those snooty uppity rich kids."

"This is not a good thing! I-"

"Dad, whatever you're about to say, don't. You always do this. Whenever something good happens, you manage to find some way to shit on it. I'm making an executive order. You deserve this and you're going to the fucking ball. I'll even help you pick out a tux."

"Marcia, you don't understand. Naruto's-"

"For the love of God, when will I be free of this stupid family?! It's like you can't take a piss in this fucking city without running into some rich homophobe related to your husband or his prick son. What could Harold's circus show family possibly have to do with this?"

"Marcia."

"Yes."

"I'm trying to tell you something. But you're going to have to stop interrupting me. Harold thinks I'm going to the store and I'd like to leave the parking lot sometime today."

"Would be a lot easier if you could join the rest of the twenty-first century and use your Bluetooth, but yes, continue."

"Harold's son and his wife have known Thomas and Janice Rankin since college. They're Naruto's godparents."

"What does that have to do with you?"

"What if Minato and his wife are there? What if he sees me? The news has been saying how Naruto's supposed to be there with some mystery woman. The whole family is going to be there."

"What are you? Five? Who gives a flying fuck if he sees you there? The governor invited you personally. You have every right to be there, just like everyone else on the guest list."

"You don't understand, the man hates my guts. He's hated me all his life. He hates everyone associated with his parents' divorce."

"How many times do I have to tell you? You did not break up Harold's marriage. He's the one who decided to leave his wife, not you. If seeing you somehow stirs up his misplaced hatred, too bad. You're going."

"I'm a shitty husband."

"I'm assuming Harold knows about the ball."

"He hasn't turned on the television since they announced it last month."

"I'm also assuming he doesn't know you're on the guest list."

Gabriel said nothing.

"Just don't tell him."

"Are you nuts?! That would kill him if he found out I was there. I would be stabbing him in the back, I can do that to him, not now."

"That's the wonderful part about not telling him", she said sarcastically. "If you keep your mouth shut, he won't know."

"I will not withhold that kind of information from my husband, Marcia."

"Right, because he's so upfront with you", she said caustically.

"Watch it", he warned.

"Once again, Harold manages to ruin any glimmer of positivity in your life. If he really loved you, he would recognize how big this is for you and stop being so fucking selfish. The world doesn't revolve around his shitty family."

"Are you out of your fucking mind? Look, I know you and Harold aren't as thick as thieves, but you don't have to be so cruel to him. I won't stand for it."

"Your partner is dead weight. And yet again you're letting him drag you down. He's so used to his own pathetic life, now he's trying to destroy yours too."

"In case you've forgotten. I'm still your father. I'm not going, end of discussion!"

"In case you've forgotten, that man has drained every ounce of happiness from your life since the day you met. Ever since the inception of this travesty, you've been living your life in hiding and being swept aside. You've worked for that university for years! That department wouldn't be the same if hadn't been for your influence. This your chance to finally get out of that ratty apartment and actually exist outside of his shadow for once!"

"Enough Marcia!"

"Wake up, Dad! You've devoted your entire life to that man and his pathetic efforts to piece back together the family HE destroyed. And in return, he doesn't even bother to tell you he's fucking dying. If you don't want to go to the stupid ball, fine, stay at home, feed him, bathe him, clean his piss and shit, coddle him in his last days, but I refuse to take part in this depressing pathetically doomed excuse for a marriage anymore! Realize that before he drags you to the grave with him!"

(Disconnect)

Gabriel let the phone slowly slide down his face as he looked out the window, helpless against the words ringing in his ears.

The bright lights of Minato's car passed over the terrace of the front of their estate, and as he drove along the winding driveway, the projection of the gate bars flicked in the light of the security lights near the street. The moonlight slinked over the glossy surface of the hood of the car. The light show caused one of the rooms in the large residence to illuminate.

The events of his week vibrated softly in his mind. After leaving New York early, he took an early flight back to LA and went directly to Zeneca headquarters. Marcia's voice agitated every cell in his body, as her revelation encircled his neck like a fleshly noose. He drove past the arch on the eastern side of the house and into the garage in the northeastern corner. He looked down at his phone resting on the console; there were three missed calls from Thomas Rankin. The large gate swung open in front of the black car, prompting him to drive through.

He pulled his car into the hanger-like garage and got out to retrieve his luggage from the trunk.

He opened the latch and saw his father's rotting body curled up in the enclosed space after one blink, his large leather suitcase after the next blink. He had stopped running from reality a few miles back, but soon learned that it wasn't enough to stop his mind from playing tricks on him. He pulled the suitcase out and closed the trunk.

As he walked past his and Kushina's, he felt like he was running away from someone, yet his paced remained calm. He could hear someone down the hallway. He knew it wasn't Kushina. She never came downstairs at night, not unless Naruto was home. He walked further, reaching the side entryway of the house. He could see into the opening of the front of the house.

He felt someone grab his arm, only when he turned around, there was no one there. He looked back the way he came, through the dark hallway leading back to the garage, nothing, no one. When he turned back to face forward he could see Harold in front of him, with a jagged hole festering through his abdomen. His aging blue eyes were crying. Minato walked past the apparition and into the house. He made his way through the two hallways, into the kitchen and set his luggage next to the island. He went into the liquor cabinet and pulled out a crystal bottle of brandy and small glass. The puttering sound of the dark alcohol hitting the glass seemed to dull the cutting blade of the day. He took a drink.

"I'm sorry, Minato."

He looked up over the brim of the glass and saw his father again, the hole growing even wider, his blood spilling onto the floor. He stood still, looking across the marble countertop. Minato stared coldly at the vision before pouring himself another glass.

"You have every right to be angry with me. I haven't been there for you like I should've. A boy needs his dad to tell him how proud he is. I was downright horrible to you. I'll never take that away from you, son. You had a shitty father. I always hoped you'd grow up to be something great, and you didn't disappoint me. Things are pretty bad on my end. I don't think I have much time left."

A thick fury began to swell in Minato's gut. He knew the man before him wasn't real, but knowing wasn't enough to make him return to whatever malicious dimension he came from. Simple acknowledgement wouldn't stop the blood. The apparition began to step closer to him, he slipped slightly on the trail of blood on the floor.

"I hate for you to see me like this", he said clutching the now gaping hole. "I ha-"

His sentence was stopped by a clot of blood that began to spill from his mouth. He began to cough miserably, the blood splattering onto the surfaces around him. He tried to regroup himself, when the coughing only continued. Minato grimaced as he wondered desperately when his nightmare would expire. He fought desperately to hold fast to his grievances from the past, challenging the façade to change the contents of his heart.

"I have something I want to tell you."

Minato put the glass down. "You're not real."

"I know", he chuckled, blood trickling down the side of his mouth. "I guess that's just like me, never coming through for you. I hope you can forgive me for that."

"Don't give me that fucking cop-out, you pathetic shit."

The apparition sighed. "I deserved that."

"Don't tell me what you deserve! You don't get to fucking decide what you deserve! Not to me!"

"I know you're angry sonny, and I don't blame you. I'm downright wrong this time."

"Leave me the fuck alone you fucking son of a bitch!" He screamed through clenched teeth, fighting the tremors in his hands. His chest began to heave as Harold began to draw nearer to him.

"Please, son. Listen to me, I don't want to die. I want to live. Don't you want me to live?"

Minato's hands shot up to his hair as his face began to twist and his eyes began to well with hot tears. "Please, leave me alone", he said as he began to sob. "Please, stop torturing me."

Harold placed his bloody hands onto Minato's shoulders, the blood on his face turning pink as it mixed with the salty tears in his eyes. The kitchen became dank with the thick humid smell of iron.

"Please son, don't let me die. Please, sonny. I'm sorry for what we did to you. Really, we are. Don't you love your dad anymore? Don't you want your old man to live, sonny? You still care about me, don't you sonny?" Harold leaned into Minto as he sobbed uncontrollably, looking his father in his desperate eyes.

"Please leave me alone, please. I'm begging you, please leave me alone", he choked through his words praying that someone would hear him. "Leave me alone!"

Within the blink of an eye, he could see the face of his wife shaking him violently. The blood that seemed to coat the kitchen had vanished along with its owner. Her voice didn't come right away, it trailed behind the movement of her lips, as if Harold wanted to leave a parting piece. Her voice slowly began to fill the hollow of his ears. His eyes sloppily locked onto her.

"Minato, snap out of it! Who are you talking to?"

He didn't respond, he tried to fixate on her realness, to decipher what about her could prove she existed. He reached forward and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. She could feel the stubble on his chin piercing her soft skin. After a moment of surprise, she returned the motion and encircled her arms around his waist.

"Minato, can you please tell me what's going on?"

"I don't know."

"…."

"I don't know."

Minato pulled away, kissing her softly, and reached for the brandy. Kushina abruptly swiped it from and hastily returned it to the cabinet.

"You've had enough for tonight."

"No, I haven't."

"You were just telling the kitchen counter to leave you alone. I think you've had enough", she reached up and grabbed his coat and pulled it off him. "Now, let's just go upstairs and get you in a nice hot shower", she said leading him away from the kitchen in the hallway with his coat folded over her arm. He grabbed his suitcase from the floor on their way out and turned out the lights.

"You don't have to patronize me."

"I'm not patronizing you. I'm being a good wife. You've had two east-west coast flights in less than forty-eight hours, not to mention working all day. You're exhausted, Minto. I told you, you can't pull things like this off anymore, not at your age."

They began to walk up the curved stair case.

"At my age I can do whatever the fuck I want."

"The doctor said-"

"Fuck the doctor. He'll say anything to get me in his office more often than I need to be there. That quack is better business man than I am."

"That quack is one of the best doctors in California; you wouldn't have picked him otherwise."

They reached the top of the stairs and walked toward their bedroom.

"How was Naruto? Besides the fact that you broke into his home."

"I did not break into his home. Sakura gave me a key."

"So, you had help breaking in."

"Kushina."

She smirked. "Ok, I'll stop."

They reached their bedroom and Kushina tossed her robe onto the back of the loveseat. She climb back into the bed and reached for her book and reading glasses. Minato began removing his tie as he disappeared into the bathroom.

"So how much money did you offer him?"

Minato paused. "What?"

"You heard me", she said confidently. "I know you and you're a big fan of offering money when you want someone to disappear."

He grumbled something under his breath. "Doesn't matter. He wouldn't take it."

She chuckled to herself. "I could've saved you the trouble."

"Fucking maniac, he took the check and lit it, and himself, on fire, right in front of me."

Her head snapped up from her book. "Oh my goodness! Minato, is he alright?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"Where was Naruto?"

He grunted as he started taking off his clothes. "He showed up just in time to send the little punk off to the ER with Sakura and kick me out."

She exhaled with her hand on her chest.

"Needless to say, we didn't part on good terms."

"Well, it serves you right."

Minato emerged from the bathroom naked. "Excuse me?"

"I told you not to meddle. And what do you do? You bribe the kid with a million bucks. It's no wonder he kicked you out. All you had to do was go to New York, go to your conference, eat lunch with your son and come the back home. Leave it to you to botch a simple job."

"I'm taking any of your shit for doing what's best for our son. I swear I'm the only one around here who seems to know what's at stake." He disappeared into the bathroom again.

"You're playing the martyr again."

"Don't give me that. You know how the NFL is, they're going to cast him aside as soon as their little sham hits the presses."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Fine, be naïve if you want. Don't come crying to me when you find out I'm right."

"As usual you're missing the bigger picture."

"And what big picture am I missing?"

"If you could close your big mouth for two seconds, you'd see that Naruto is just as aware of the risk as you are. He's a man, Minato, a man who's trying to figure out his life right now. He's having to make a choice between his career and his happiness, and if that happiness is justified. Neither one of us has had to make that choice."

She could hear him rummaging through something in the bathroom.

"I just thought, just this once, we could just sit back and be supportive, no?"

Minato paused before turning on the hot water.

The two of them walked through the narrow hallway, the entire building cloaked in a velveteen silence. The only sound that pervaded the eerily sleeping building was the perpetual hum of the city wafting in from outside. They walked together, connected by an intimate distance between them, their steps periodically falling in and out of sync. The sound of Naruto's boots against the creaking wooden floors bounced softly off the walls. Gaara reached the front door of his apartment and pulled his keys from his back pocket. Naruto placed his hands on Gaara's waist as he jingled the rusty lock.

"You didn't have to drive me home", he said, finally opening the heavy door. The two of them walked inside. Naruto shut the door behind them as Gaara's keys clanked onto the metal tray by the coatrack. Gaara walked across the space to the restroom before closing the door. As soon as the door jamb shut, Naruto jolted stealthily over to the book shelf, quickly reaching into his back pocket and sifting the stolen journal back into its original hiding place. He took a second look making sure Gaara's shadow wasn't near the bottom of the door. He stood back to ensure the area appeared unadulterated and walked back over to the love seat in the middle of the space.

"Don't mention it", he said plopping down on the small couch with a sigh of relief, almost wishing he hadn't allowed his curiosity to get the best of him. Yet the contents of the journal landed softly and warmly into his memory. His mind began to playfully pit the outpouring of Gaara's affection against his valiant resistance. Naruto grabbed the remote to the TV on the small wooden table in front of him before propping his large feet on top of it.

The dusty set flashed onto the national news channel where, not to his surprise, the ensuing coverage of Governor Rankin's ball was on. He rolled his eyes and began to flip through the channels.

"You know…", came Gaara's voice from behind the sofa, startling his older counterpart. Naruto looked behind him to see Gaara in harem sweats and a tank top with a grin on his face for having startled the burly man. He sauntered over to the couch. "Maybe it's a southern thing, but you're normally supposed to ask before you put your big dirty boots on someone's table", he said sitting down next to Naruto.

"Oh shit, my bad Gaara", he said hastily preparing to take his feet down.

"I'm kidding", Gaara said playfully brushing Naruto's leg with his bare foot. "I think we've crossed that bridge by now."

Naruto's expression slowly morphed into a hint of a smile as he draped his arm over the back of the chair. Their eyes connected for a handful of moments, the soft humming of the fan in the corner and the mumblings from the TV the only sounds breathing into the apartment. Their lips met. Gaara could feel Naruto heartrate increase through the warm fabric of his shirt. The feeling of Naruto's warm tongue reaching into him sent a surge into his deepest place. The red-haired dancer opened his right eye to see Naruto's hand trekking over to his leg. Gaara anticipated him and climbed onto his lap, his hands quickly latching onto Naruto's zipper. The older man began to smirk in the short moments their lips parted. He felt the same surge when his throbbing manhood met the cool air in the apartment. With a playful glint in his eyes, he crawled down until his knees met the floor, his warm breath encircling every inch of his skin. Gaara looked up at his anticipating partner, waiting until his icy blue could submit to him. Naruto was at his mercy as he ran his tongue along his full range.

His eyes slowly drifted closed, his head lowered back against the sofa, he exhaled deeply. He felt Gaara take him wholly, the warm, soft inside of his throat waving away the pressure that seemed to crush him. The thoughts of obligations, his sore muscles, his aching joints, the looming days ahead of him, melted away with each rescuing pass of Gaara's tongue. He groaned in ecstasy, his face shifting into the darkness, as he could feel himself getting closer to place, the place where the masses were gone, and roaring crowds were silent, the place where preservation gave way to pleasure, the place where freedom was the only obligation. His breath became staggered. His entire body seemed to float from the sofa, floating into the ether around him, or above him. With each engulfment of his wet flesh his body was ravaged by the surge that met him moments before. He reached down and buried his fingers into Gaara's hair, he moans growing in intensity along with his proximity to the place.

The sound of Gaara's lips enveloping the throbbing head rang in his ears.

"I'm close."

His phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He could feel himself at the opening of the place. The vibrating device next to him was a thorn in his side in that moment. He looked down to see if Gaara was paying any attention. He could have wept at the thought of coming so close to the place, only for his nightmares to impede his fantasy. He ran his other hand through his hair, the intense closeness of the place proving too much for him to handle. He suddenly found his hips curving to the rhythm of the place, small beads of perspiration forming on his forehead, his toes clenched inside his boots.

Gaara's saliva began to run down the shaft of him. He found himself begging him not to stop, to never stop, not as long as he lived, breathed, danced, to never stop, that if he loved him he wouldn't stop. His broad chest was heaving, his fingers now a fist in the deep red forest of Gaara's hair. He didn't want to open his eyes, he feared that opening his eyes that the place would again slip from his fingers. Naruto released an uncontrollable roar from the deepest part of himself.

The place opened up to him. Ecstasy ricocheted off every corner of his body. His breathing came down from its frenzy, his body tantalizingly floated back into its place on the sofa, his grip on Gaara's hair loosened, as he swallowed his essence. He let his head fall back against the sofa again, his chest still rising and falling. He zipped his pants.

Gaara looked up at him as he leaned back, spent. The lamp behind them illuminated his blonde hair. The taller man looked down at him as he licked his lips, the salty fluid fresh on his tongue. Naruto pulled him back up into his lap and captured his lips again. Naruto's phone began to vibrate again next to them. Gaara looked over at the buzzing device as Naruto attacked his neck. He saw Sakura's name across the screen, and that she'd already called twice.

"Don't worry about it. I'll call her back later", Naruto said gruffly into the now nape of Gaara's neck.

"This is her third time calling, Naruto."

Naruto came up from Gaara's neck, his piercing blue eyes boring into him. "I want to fuck you right now. I don't want to talk to Sakura about whatever fucking meeting, endorsement, merger, or opportunity she feels the need to tell me about."

"Naruto, just get it over with. You know she's not going to stop calling."

"Why do you even care?"

"Because when you don't answer the phone, some way or another I always get blamed. And you suck at gauging how important things are."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, please! Because of you, #RedheadMysteryBae is trending on fucking Twitter, now that the Sisterhood of the Traveling Football thinks you have some mystery girlfriend skulking around."

Naruto ran his hands through his hair. "Gaara, would you stop being so fucking dramatic. It's just a brunch."

"Ok, maybe you didn't hear me the first time. THEY THINK I'M A WOMAN. Is that sinking in? I really don't think so."

The older man looked over at the phone, now ringing for the fourth time in a row. He growled in resistance as he snatched the phone from its resting place to answer it. Gaara scoffed and got up to go to the kitchen. Naruto reached to grab him only for Gaara to swat his hand away.

He lifted the phone to his ear. "What do you want?"

She paused.

"You know, there are people who've offered to pay me more to do less work. You're proving to me that you don't deserve my kindness."

"Forgive me. I get cranky when my dates don't put out", he said sarcastically smiling at Gaara, who casually waved his middle finger from behind the refrigerator door.

"At first, I was afraid that this would ruin your night, but now I'm eager to do the honor of cutting your escapade short."

"The night is growing old."

"The wonderfully greedy owners want to move training camp up by a month. He's counting on you to be an example and be there by Friday."

"Fucking sacks of shit." Naruto sighed as his forehead rested in his hand. "They do this every fucking year."

"You know my hands are tied."

"Of course. I can drop everything in two days and head off. It's not like I have a life or anything."

"Don't shoot the messenger. I'm just trying to save face, the know you hate them."

Gaara came back to the sofa with a bottle of water seeing Naruto's drastic change in demeanor. He sat down next to him, placing the wet bottle down on the table. He pitied him in that moment, as the celebrated man sat slumped over, listening to what seemed like a sentence to slave labor. He felt the urge to comfort him, questioning his resolve against their prior predicament. The moment presented to him their beloved chaos, and reminded him of the dreadful things people would say if they ever found out. He ran his fingers across the surface of the couch, thinking of what to do in that moment, what he could do that would disprove and validate.

"Yeah."

"Ok, well I'll give him a call and let him know you're on board", she said ruffling some papers in the background. "You should hear from him sometime tomorrow morning."

"Ok."

She sighed. "Look, I know you two had plans. But this is your career. Remember what we talked about. Shoot for forty."

"Yeah…"

"Let me know when they call."

"Ok, later."

"Bye."

Naruto hung up the phone and tossed it onto the table. He rested his chin on his knuckles. He stared into the blank space in front of him. Gaara saw his frustrated expression, afraid to ask him anything. He placed his hand on his back.

"When do you have to go back?"

"Friday."

Gaara paused.

They sat in silence for a moment.

Naruto looked over to the message in Gaara's eyes.

"What do you wanna do now?"

Naruto looked away and back at him.

"I don't know."

Gaara smiled coyly. "Well, I might be wrong, but I think I left something back at your place."

Naruto's expression of confusion blossomed into him nodding along with Gaara.

"I was waiting for you to catch on."

"It takes me a second sometimes."

Gaara patted Naruto on his leg before getting up and going to the dresser across the room. Naruto turned around to see him stuffing some things in a bag. He grabbed his keys from the table and went over to wrap his arms around his waist.

"So, is this to cheer me up?"

Gaara looked over his shoulder. "Guilty."

Naruto buried his face in Gaara's neck.

"I figured I should go ahead and be nice to you, since we won't get to see each other for the next few months."

"Don't remind me."

"Sorry."

Gaara softly pried himself from Naruto's grasp and went to the bathroom. He watched as he walked into the golden-lit room. He heard him stuffing the same items into the same bag he came in with. He walked over to the bathroom door, leaning on the frame.

"Why don't you leave some things at my place?"

Gaara turned around, slightly offset by the question. "I don't know. I guess it's just a habit, taking things with me", he said with a hint of nervousness. He knew the question was aimed at their moving in together, but didn't want to stain the satin evening with an argument.

"I enjoyed dinner tonight, by the way."

Naruto saw into him as he continued to pack.

Gaara sat across from Naruto in the car, feeling the soothing vibration melt into his back as the city passed them by. Naruto's hand rested on Gaara thigh, his thumb passing over the fabric of his pants every few moments. The redhead's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a text message from Rhett Pierce. He quickly darted his eyes over to Naruto, who was focused on the stop light in front of them. He opened the text message.

Hey, Gaara. First off, I just wanna say thanks for helping us out this event season. You've been a great asset to our team. Unfortunately, we're going to have to cut back on staff for the rest of the summer. I apologize for the late notice, if there was any way we could keep you, believe me we would. If you still need work after…

He didn't read the rest. The fresh words began to roll around in his mind. A hot hatred burned in him for his helplessness. His aversion to losing his apartment warmed the inside of his chest. He looked at the text message again to make sure didn't misread it, yet the letters were even realer than a few moments before. He could almost hear Pierce's raspy voice and southern accent pretending to offer rambling condolences and apologies that never seemed to be genuine. The thought of Naruto finding out landed on his chest weightily. He quickly shoved the phone back in his pocket, suddenly reminded of Minato walking in on him. He exhaled. Naruto looked over to him as the light turned green.

"Everything ok?"

Gaara moved some hair out of his face. "Yeah, my boss just texting me about work tomorrow."

He tried to transition his view of the night into a break from reality, that he deserved an escape from the two months of rent he owed and that his landlord didn't bother to give him an eviction notice, that the following days with Naruto would be enough to face the days ahead, or that his life was wasting away like everyone had expected it to.

"Oh."

The ride continued in silence, the two of them periodically glancing at one another. Gaara fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat as his buttocks began to fall numb. Naruto's hand drifted back over to Gaara's thigh, only for him to shift again.

As they drew further from Gaara's apartment, he migrated closer to the passenger door, he breath fogging up the window next to him. Naruto stopped at a red light and looked over at him. Gaara caught him staring ang gave him a hint of a smile before turning back to the window.

"I know Pierce fired you."

Gaara sighed, looking down at his hands, stifling his hysteria with all his might. He dared not cry, for the humiliation of Naruto's gaze burned him enough without the added shame of weakness. Naruto felt guilt for cornering him in his dishonesty, but could no longer back away.

"Good eye", Gaara seethed sarcastically. "Is there anything else you'd like to know about me that you haven't already pilfered without my knowledge?"

"Why the fuck are you so defensive right now? You didn't have to hide that from me."

"Why does it even matter? It was just a stupid job that was temporary anyway; I knew they weren't going to keep for long anyway."

"I know it matters, and I know you were depending on that money", he said with concern in his voice.

Gaara massaged his temples. "Naruto, I'll find another job. It's not the end of the world, will you please stop overreacting?"

"I'm not overreacting", he said indignantly.

"Yes you are."

"I'm overreacting because I'm concerned about how you're surviving?"

"You sound like the non-drunken and belligerent version of my father. Please stop."

He scowled over at his passenger. "I'm serious Gaara."

"So am I", Gaara retorted emphatically. "I'm an adult and I've been doing just fine on my own."

"Is this about my father? Did he say something to you?"

"Me being self-sufficient has nothing to do with your father", he said begrudgingly. "…regardless of how much he thinks I'm bleeding you dry."

Naruto smirked. "So that's why you don't want to move in with me…"

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't want to move in with me because you're afraid of people thinking you're a gold digger."

Gaara patted Naruto on his shoulder. "My friend, the reason is irrelevant", he said sardonically. "What's important is that it's not happening."

They reached another red light. Naruto's confidence wavered in the stead of his passenger's resolve. Gaara turned back to the window.

"Look, I know it's none of my business", Naruto started. "And I know you're fully capable of handling this on your own. I just want you to make me one promise, and I'll leave it alone."

Gaara turned from the window and over to Naruto's profile as he focused on the street ahead of them.

"If things go wrong, just promise you'll come to me", he said with a low voice. "I won't judge you, blame you or hold it against you."

The redhead swallowed the lump in his throat, seeing the enveloping love in Naruto's eyes.

"Ok", he said with a cane sugar smile. "Wanna go see that movie I was telling you about? My treat."

Naruto chuckled as he turned the car around.