#the working title acronym for this is LMGH. which i read as le-mug. wot

[shukakumoodboard]

hello i’ve decided it’s wip wednesday whatever so here’s some draft from a fic i haven’t advertised anywhere but discord <3

text below the cut!

Cut straight down the centre of his back is a massive, ridged scar which ladders his spine, a valley carved in faded bronze eternal testament to Gaara’s cruelty, Lee’s determination, and Tsunade’s medical skill. Newer, smaller scars cross it; a burn from a narrowly missed jutsu, a sword strike, multiple thin white kunai scores which trail like the tails of comets across an afternoon sky. Scattered between these healed injuries are the remnants of combat and training: bruises linger in faded purples, blues, greens, and yellows that nearly vanish in the dim orange light. Lee thinks this perpetual catalogue of injuries is ugly, but to Gaara, he looks like a nebula in motion.

This is where Gaara begins. A thin stream of oil arcs from the glass to Lee’s skin, pools in the divots of his hips, gleams at the small of his back. Once body-warm and glossy his hands move to spread it, a golden sheen unfurling all across Lee’s damaged topography. At his touch, all Lee’s muted colours transform, brilliance revealed in every wound he insists to Gaara is unsightly. Pink whorls of scar tissue form tourmaline gems polished to a radiant shine; cloudy blue bruises shimmer like storm clouds reflected in a mirror-smooth pond. Lee himself sighs in relief as Gaara pulls tension from the carbon fibre he calls muscles, melting against the sheets with his eyes closed and lips parted. Faint noises slip between them when Gaara digs his fingers into the knots tying up his shoulders.