Work Text:
“Congrats, man! Great driving out there!” Shikamaru, Naruto’s team principal, clapped him on the back as he made his way toward the cooldown room.
It was the quiet space where the top three finishers waited before the podium ceremony, watching highlights from the race and catching their breath.
Today, Naruto had just clinched the 50th win of his career and now led the championship standings, his third title was finally within reach.
But his rival, Gaara, was closing in. Only 10 points separated them. Every race from here on out would be war.
Naruto, however, had bigger problems.
Namely, sleep. Or more accurately, the lack of it.
“Thanks,” Naruto muttered, stretching. “I really just need some sleep right now.”
Shikamaru snorted. “Good luck with that.”
Everyone knew Naruto was an insomniac. He hadn’t had proper sleep during a race weekend in years. The pressure, the travel, the adrenaline? It all kept him wired.
Sleeping pills barely helped. But somehow, his performance never dipped. Still, it was catching up with him.
Naruto pushed open the door to the cooldown room and found Gaara already there, sitting stiffly.
They’d known each other since their go-karting days. What had started as a playground rivalry had evolved into something far more intense, an F1 championship-level grudge being played out at 300 km/h.
“Where’s Sai?” Naruto asked, noting the absence of the third-place finisher.
Gaara glanced up, then smirked. “Why? Too scared to be alone with me?”
He had always assumed Naruto's tough act was just that, an act. Everyone knew how calm he could be off track. That contrast drove Gaara crazy.
Aside from being calm, Naruto was incredibly fast and skilled. Most of Gaara's victories were sheer luck, and he wondered if that luck would accompany him in the next race as well.
However, to Gaara, that seemed unlikely.
Naruto gave him a flat look. “No, Gaara. Not at all.”
Gaara raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “He got called in by the stewards,” he added a beat later.
Naruto slumped into the chair beside him, too tired to care. The race highlights began to roll on the monitor in front of them.
“You almost hit me,” Gaara muttered, pointing at a tense moment on screen.
Naruto leaned back, eyes half-closed. “Your fault.”
Though he knew it was his own mistake, Naruto always relished in the opportunity to rile Gaara up, even when he was sleepy. It was basically free entertainment.
Gaara scowled. “Not at all!”
A small, lazy smile crept onto Naruto’s face. “Whatever you say, Angry Bird.”
Gaara bolted upright. “What did you just call me?”
Naruto yawned. “Hearing issues and driving issues now? Damn, man.”
Gaara couldn’t believe it. No one talked to him like this, well except Naruto. And Gaara hated how used to it he was.
Everyone else on the driver's grid had minimal contact with Gaara; he seemed too aggressive to them. Meanwhile Naruto got along with everyone, even when he was harsh on the track.
Still, Gaara decided he wouldn't give in to this, even if it meant arguing until midnight.
“You forced the overtake,” Gaara continued, gesturing to the screen. “I was going straight. You dived into a non-existent gap. Anyone with eyes could see-”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Naruto wasn’t responding.
He turned to glare at him, only to find the idiot asleep, slumped over, mouth slightly open.
"...What the hell?"
Did he just- fall asleep? Right in the middle of their argument?
Should Gaara call someone? Wake him up? Shake him? What was the protocol for your rival dropping unconscious mid-sass? He just stared, baffled.
Before he could decide, the door burst open.
“What did you give him?!” Shikamaru shouted, striding over like a man on a mission.
Gaara blinked. “What?”
“You drugged him! You gave him something so he’ll mess up the next race!”
“I did what?” Gaara hissed, lowering his voice so he wouldn’t wake Naruto snoring beside him. “Are you serious?”
“He never sleeps!” Shikamaru snapped. “I’ve seen him go days on espresso and now he’s snoring next to you!”
That stopped Gaara short. He’d heard about Naruto’s insomnia, but still... was it really that bad?
“Wait. Is he dead?” Shikamaru rushed forward, panic rising.
Gaara shoved him back. “He is not dead.”
“A pity,” he added, muttering under his breath, clearly joking.
Shikamaru scowled.
Gaara sighed, “We were arguing about the race. I turned my head, and boom. Out cold.”
Shikamaru relaxed. Slightly. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh,” Gaara echoed, deadpan.
“Sorry I accused you.”
“Whatever,” Gaara muttered.
There was a pause.
Then Shikamaru grinned. “So... can I send him to you whenever he can’t sleep?”
Gaara blinked. Hard.
“What?”
Shikamaru gestured to Naruto, now drooling a little.
“I’m just saying, it’s the first time he’s knocked out without meds in years. You might be onto something.”
Gaara stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
It suddenly occurred to him that Naruto’s madness wasn’t isolated. His team was just as unhinged.
Wonderful.