Naruto (c) Masashi Kishimoto

Dedication: Stitch, cause she's the bestest best person in the world. Oh, and Sara! Can't forget her and her violent tendancy to beat Sasuke.

Warning: This fic contains sex, drugs and achohol and strong language. Just so you know...

Show me how we’ll end this, it’s all right! Show me how defenseless you really are. Satisfied an empty inside, we’ll that’s alright, let’s give this another try! — Breaking Benjamin

A man stood before a rusty old oil drum, while a cozy little fire popping within its depths. “Mom,” he looked at a picture of his mother, before tossing it into the flames. “Dad,” he looked at the picture of his father, “fucking bastard,” he tossed it into the orange flames. “Little brother,” he was about to toss the picture of his brother into the flames but stopped, staring, hypnotically at his brother’s smiling face. He passed his sister-in-law’s place a few days ago and caught a glimpse of his brother, hands frantically running through his chicken-ass hair. When his brother’s wife caught sight of him, she promptly marched over to the window, pink tresses bouncing, and yanked the shutters close. That was the last time he saw his brother. “Sorry,” he whispered and tossed his brother’s photo into the fire. He then picked up an old shoe box and began dumping the contents into the oil drum. He stopped shaking the box, thinking all the pictures were turning to ash, when he noticed one. Sighing, tiredly, he picked it up, and was about to toss it into the flames when he noticed it was a picture of his girlfriend. “Ex-girlfriend,” he reminded himself. “She’s your ex-girlfriend!” he grumbled bitterly angrily tossing the shoebox into the flames. Some of the smelly homeless bums looked up at him.

“Hey, take it easy man!” one reprimanded him. Itachi shot the bum a murderous glare, while shoving the picture of his ex-girlfriend into his coat pocket. HE turned pulled out a cigarette, lit it and began smoking. He stood there, blowing a long stream of silver smoke from his mouth, as he glanced around the darkening alleyway. A few more draws on the cigarette, and Itachi dropped it onto the ground before stomping on it with his steel toed boot. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and looked at it, a rueful grimace on his face before he tossed the pack into the fire, ignoring the moans of the bums. Angrily shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans he marched out of the alley to his dingy little hovel of an apartment.

When he got to his floor he was surprise to see Kisame sitting on the floor, flipping lazily through the pictures of some dirty magazine. Itachi ignored the big man and rammed his key into the lock. “I wouldn’t go in there,” Kisame said.

“Why?” Itachi grunted.

“Sasori and Deidara,” the big man said.

“Whatever,” Itachi unlocked his apartment and stepped in.

He glanced around, noticing the peeling lime green paint, the water stain on the ceiling, the dirty bathroom nobody would touch, even for the million bucks Itachi didn’t have; Itachi’s puke colored couch held two half-naked men. “Evening girls!” Itachi called cheerfully as he walked up to the fridge and opened it; startling them. Deidara and Sasori pulled away, blushing like school girls.

“What are you doing here Itachi?! I thought you were going to talk to Sasuke?” Deidara asked.

“Just because I say you can use my apartment because I’ll be out,” he turned, a beer in his hand as he did the air quotes, “doesn’t mean you can have a yaoi fuckfest on my couch. Nor can you use my bed,” he opened the can of beer with a hissing snap. “You can however use the floor,” he took a swig of the beer and made a face. “Who bought this horse piss?” he eyed the two.

“Kisame, I think,” Sasori inspected his nails.

“Anyways, why are you here?” Deidara asked.

“I…” Itachi paused and looked at the blank wall, trying to recall what drove him to come back to this shit hole that passed as an apartment. “Fuck,” he poured the crappy beer down the sink before heading towards the door. “And if you two must fuck, please do it on the floor,” Itachi muttered before exiting his apartment.

Kisame looked up as Itachi slid down the door. He shrugged off his leather coat, revealing a stained T-shirt that at one point was white. Blue jeans with a hole in the left knee and dirty steel toed boots completed the outfit. Kisame’s eyes settled on Itachi’s muscular arms, and the crook of his elbow where pink scars crisscrossed his skin, a dark reminder to an even darker past for the Uchiha. Itachi must’ve felt Kisame’s eyes on him for he pulled his coat back on and zipped it up. “That bad, huh?” Kisame asked.

“No, they were just kissing and half-naked,” Itachi gave a sideways smile. “I told them if they must fuck do it on the floor,” he said.

“Heh, you know they won’t listen to you,” Kisame said.

“Hence the reason why my couch has a hide-away bed,” Itachi smirked as Kisame paled.

“That’s my bed!” Kisame snarled.

“Better tell them to wash the sheets then,” Itachi stood up, and took a few steps down the hall. “Got any cigarettes? I tried to quit again, but…” Itachi shrugged.

“Yeah,” the big man dug into his pocket and tossed Itachi a pack of cigarettes. “You owe me,” Kisame said.

“Right, thanks,” Itachi began heading down the hall.

“Hey, where are you going?” Kisame asked.

“To get drunk!” Itachi raised his hand in farewell, before disappearing down the steps.

“Why does he always leave me with those two,” Kisame grumbled and turned back to his magazine.

The music was loud, much too loud for Hana’s liking. Personally, she hated bartending, all the creeps kept hitting on her and Ibiki didn’t do a damn thing cause he was too busy flirting with his girlfriend, Anko. “Hey, wolf-girl! Vodka on the rocks!” a man shouted down the table.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Hana said, grabbing another round and stout glass, scooping ice into it and filling it half full with vodka. She walked over to the impatient bar-goer. “Sip it, Joe,” Hana slammed his glass down before him, a furious glare in her eyes. He snickered.

“Anything for you babe,” Joe sneered.

“Touch me and I’ll make sure a semi-truck hits you!” Hana snarled, snapping the towel over her shoulder.

“Hana, hunny! Another round of mojitos for table seven!” Anko called, leaning against the counter. Hana rolled her eyes, before tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear as she made the round of mojitos. Han glanced at Anko. The woman was a sexual deviant in some ways, but she had no problem flaunting her sexuality. Currently, Anko was wearing shorty jean shorts with frayed edges and stylized bleach stains, a black skin tight tank-top; bangles on her left wrist and a couple of sex bracelets on her right, her traditional fang necklace dangled around her neck, and Hana could swear she saw the straps of a thong on Anko’s hips. Anko’s dark purple hair was done up in a messy ponytail, even though it was really too short to do anything with. Her grey-brown eyes were currently fixed on her boobs, unaware of the wayward hand snaking towards her ass.

“Watch it buster!” Anko growled, grabbing the man’s hand and bending his wrist back. He whimpered. “That’s right! Now hands to yourself or Ibiki, in the corner is gonna give ya the house special! A Knuckle McSandwich!” she tossed his hand away. Hana smirked as she finished pouring a beer. Anko may have an invisible sign flashing above her head that said ‘Fuck me!’ but most people forgot to read the fine print that said ‘If ya dare and get pass my boyfriend!’ and they normally ended up with a few broken bones. Nobody but nobody touched Anko, other than Ibiki.

It was almost nine-ten o’clock, when the door opened. Hana oddly heard the jingle of the bell over the music and the myriad of voices that caused a cacophony of sound. Anko fixed her boobs before waltzing over to Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. Clearly, the cutie turned Anko down and headed forwards the shadowy corner of the bar. Hana snorted and walked down towards him. Anko eyed her, but Hana shot her a look, that clearly told her best friend that she could take care of herself by herself.

With a faux smile on her face, Hana leaned on the bar counter. “What can I get you?” she asked. The man looked up and Hana gasped, when she saw those obsidian orbs. Oh, how they haunted her dreams and her darkest nightmares. “What are you doing here!?” she growled. Itachi leaned forwards, ash black bangs framing his regal face.

“I cam here to get drunk,” he smirked at her. Hana felt her cheeks burn. Most people were able to smile, but it seemed that Uchiha genetics only allowed men to smirk or scowl.

“Liar,” Hana growled; Itachi reached for her, but she drew back, batting his hand away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ibiki shift. She looked up at the big burly bear of a man and gave him a little wink, silently telling him to back off, and Ibiki stalked over to some little punk harassing Anko.

Hana turned her attention back to the Uchiha, who was now smoking lazily. “No smoking,” she growled. Itachi looked around and counted seven different people smoking.

“Seven people are smoking,” he shrugged.

“Fuck Itachi! What do you want?” Hana asked.

“Gimme a beer,” he grumbled.

“I thought you wanted to get drunk?” Hana asked.

“Just gimme the damn beer, Hana,” Itachi growled, taking a draw on the cigarette, as Hana slammed a cold beer onto the table and twisted the top off. He eyed her.

“I dated you for two years, I know how you like your beers,” Hana leaned forwards. “Remember?” she purred. Itachi flicked his lips upwards.

“Don’t remind me,” Itachi put out his cigarette and sipped his beer.

“Really, why are you here?” Hana asked. Before Itachi could answer someone shook an empty glass.

“Yo bitch! Another one!” the man called.

“I can’t believe you let these bastards push you around,” Itachi muttered leaning against the cool wall.

“I’ll deal with you later, holler if you want another cold one,” Hana said, walking away, but Itachi grabbed her wrist. Hana looked at him.

“What if I don’t want another cold one?” he gave her a funny little smile. Hana pulled her wrist free of his grip.

“Just yell if you want another damn beer,” Hana snarled before stalking off. Itachi allowed the smile to linger on his face, before it fell into a frown. Moaning he rubbed his forehead, wondering if coming to this bar was a good idea. He shifted in his seat, and watched Hana, as he sipped his beer.

It was around midnight when Hana slammed another beer in front of Itachi. “Damn, Itachi your second beer in what two hours?” Hana grumbled.

“Is there a problem?” he began to sipping his second beer.

“Not really, but most guys go through three beers in two hours,” Hana shrugged.

“How often do I go out and get wasted?” Itachi asked.

“Good point, keys,” Hana held out her hand as she leaned on the counter.

“I walked here,” Itachi blinked.

“Like hell, keys now,” Hana said.

“Do you always ask for your costumers keys?” Itachi purred. He knew the alcohol was starting to affect him, Hana was starting to get shojo sparkles around her. He blinked, and shook his head.

“Only to the ones I like,” she whispered. Itachi’s face fell slack. He couldn’t believe she was flirting with him.

“What if I don’t wanna?” Itachi leaned forwards, he could smell her deodorant, and she always did have a thing for the flowery scented deodorants, which failed to mask the scent of the world fresh from a thunder storm, crisp and clean. She smiled.

“Well then, if you don’t gimme your keys I’ll have Ibiki persuade you,” Hana smirked, “in his fashion, which won’t be pleasant and involves broken bones.”

Itachi snorted, but handed her his keys anyways. Ibiki was six-four and one hundred and ninety-four pounds, oppose to Itachi’s whooping height of five-ten and one hundred and twenty-seven pounds. Looking at Ibiki, Itachi sighed.

“I feel short,” he glanced at a giggling Hana. “What?”

“Everyone feels short next to Ibiki,” Hana smiled and Itachi was drawn to that smile. He felt happy that he made her smile like that; he could remember when she would always mile like that for him, with him and at him. “Well,” he pocketed his keys. “I have to get back to work. Gimme a shout when you want to leave I’ll call Kisame to pick you up,” Hana said.

“No, not Kisame,” Itachi muttered.

“Sasuke then,” Hana asked. Itachi shout his head up, almost dropping the beer, as a strangled no escaped his lips. Hana frowned. “I’m sure Sasuke wouldn’t mind picking up his big brother,” Hana said slowly.

“Hana, trust me, don’t call Sasuke,” Itachi looked away.
“Why did something happen to Sasuke?” Hana asked. Itachi shook, reliving the events that permanently crippled his baby brother. “Itachi,” Hana touched his arm lightly. Reflexively, he backhanded her and Ibiki jumped him, grabbing him in a headlock.

“Why don’t I teach you not to hit a lady, punk!” Ibiki whispered dangerously softly.

“Ibiki, let him go, its my fault,” Hana said. Ibiki snorted but let Itachi go.

“I’m sorry,” Itachi looked down at his hands. “I’ll just check myself into a hotel or something,” Itachi mumbled. Hana looked at the clock. It was almost twelve-thirty.

“Anko! I’m taking my break,” Hana said.

“Ah, damn,” Anko shoved her note pad into Ibiki’s chest. “Play nice,” Anko winked before slipping behind the counter.

Itachi looked at Hana, who wore heeled clogs and black slacks along with her pea green T-shirt. “Upsee-daisy,” she pulled Itachi to his feet.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Hell, you aren’t as drunk as you look,” Hana snickered. “We’re just going out back,” she added.

“Haha,” Itachi snorted following Hana, to the back of the bar, beer still in his hand.

Hana shivered when the late autumn night bit her skin. “Damn, I forgot my ja—” she stopped when Itachi held out his.

“Here,” he shook it. Hana smiled, taking the jacket and pulled it on, snuggling into its soft folds of supple worn leather. She sniffed it and sighed happily. It brought memories of him. Snuggling up against him, his body pressed up against hers in the most intimate of ways. He took a sip of beer and it was when he lowered his hand that she noticed the scars on the inside of his arms.

“Itachi,” she reached out and grabbed his arm. He allowed her, watching her with a drunken curiosity. “How did you get these?” she traced the scars that crisscrossed the crook of his elbow. When he didn’t speak she looked at him. “How did you get these!?” she growled. He violently yanked his arm out of her grasp.

“I did heroin shortly after we broke up, went through rehab…got cleaned up,” Itachi shrugged. Hana blinked.

“Was our break up that bad?” she asked.

“No, it wasn’t. I didn’t do heroin because of your break up…I had personal issues for doing it, and our break up was the last thing on my mind,” he laughed ruefully. “It was probably the best thing that happened to me at the time. I didn’t have to worry about a girlfriend during the fucking lawsuit Madara tried to pull on my brother and me,” Itachi grumbled and sipped his beer. A comfortable silence settled between them.

“Can I ask you something?” Hana whispered.

“Shoot,” Itachi sipped his beer. “Meh, half-empty,” he muttered.

“Did something happen to Sasuke?” Hana asked. Itachi looked at his feet.

“About three, maybe four months ago, Sasuke, my nephew and I were driving home from the zoo. I was driving. I don’t remember what happened but we ended up in a nasty car crash. I was relatively unhurt, just a broken leg and a few cuts on my head. Sasuke had a broken arm and a sprained ankle, but my nephew…” Itachi paused. “Didn’t make it,” Itachi watched Hana cover her mouth as she gasped softly. “Shortly after that Sasuke tried to kill himself. Naruto found him in time, but the damage was done…my brother is a prisoner in his own mind, which is broken beyond repair. Sakura refuses to speak to me and I can’t say I blame her, I took her son and husband away because I wasn’t paying attention to the fucking road!” Itachi tossed his half-empty beer bottle against the wall, smiling ruefully when he heard the tinkling sound of shattered glass. “Sasuke was never the same after our parents died,” Itachi bent down and picked up one of the shards. “I did the best I could, but I was barely old enough myself…I’m a demon with a soul, Hana,” he looked at her.

The Inuzuka felt herself squirm underneath the piercing gaze of the Uchiha. She could see the guilt written in his eyes and the pain, she longed to take it away, take his pain and guilt and pull it onto herself. Hana had always been the strong pillar of support to people around her, she was that support pillar when her father left them when she was eight years old, like she did when her mother couldn’t deal with being a single working parent, like she did when Kiba lashed out in school, ruining his chances with Ino. Like she has done for so many people.

“Why did we break up?” she asked as she closed her eyes, images flashing before her eyes; of drugs, the booze, the sex and the parties, how she did things she wasn’t proud of; how she briefly sold her soul to put food in her brother’s belly and clothes on his back; how she did things she wasn’t proud of. She remembered the abortion s he had because she was stupid enough to sleep with the man with pale purple eyes and slicked back silver hair.

“I don’t know, Hana,” Itachi tossed the shard of glass into the street. “What the fuck do you care about our break up? That was over two years ago and you seemed more than happy to leave,” Itachi spat bitterly. Hana looked away, she knew the break had taken a toll on him, in the back of her mind she guess he really did love her.

“You want to know why we broke up,” Hana growled.

“Enlighten me,” Itachi whispered, not looking at her.

“I got drunk and high one night, while you were gone, and had a one night stand with Hidan!” Hana grimaced. “I ended up pregnant…and…I was afraid to tell you that I was pregnant but you weren’t the father,” Hana looked at her feet. “I terminated the pregnancy before you got back and well you know the rest. The point it I’ve done things I’m not proud of either Itachi! I’m an angel drenched in blood!” Hana growled.

“You slept with Hidan?” Itachi blinked, his eyes were hazy, Hana guessed he was drunk, more so than either of them realized. She readied herself for him to fly into a rage. Itachi was an unpredictable drunk. “Why the fuck did you fuck that overzealous self-righteous fucking bastard?” he gasped.

“I told you! I was high and drunk and he wanted some ass and I was stupid enough to give it to him!” Hana said. Itachi laughed, it was cold and bone chilling. Hana had never truly feared Itachi, but the moment she slammed her into the wall, she feared him.

“Bitch,” he growled softly, fist raised to strike her. “Fucking bitch,” he snarled. Hana bit back her emotions, she will scream bloody murder if he started to hit her. “Damn you Hana,” he pressed his forehead against the wall, uncurled his fist and stroked her tattooed cheek. “Damn you to hell and back,” he wove his hand into her hair, before kissing her. Hana could taste the beer on his lips. “I love you, so damn much, I would’ve taken care of you and the kid, you know that,” he blinked, tears falling away from his onyx eyes, a weak smile on his lips. Hana leaned into his touch. “I thought it was because I did something wrong,” his voice choked with emotions. He opened his mouth to say something but shook his head. Hana grabbed his face.

“Itachi, don’t! Don’t go blaming our break-up on your nephew’s death or Sasuke’s madness! Shit happens,” she kissed him. “Now, we need to get back inside,” she pulled off his coat.

“I was burning pictures, this evening,” he muttered as he took his coat back.

“And?” she looked at him.

“I even burned pictures of my brother, I didn’t burn yours though,” he muttered.

“C’mon Itachi, I’ll get you something stronger,” she took him by the arm and led im into the bar.

The bar was a ghost town by two o’clock. Anko yawned. “Why don’t you go home Hana? Ibiki and I can handle the rest,” Anko said. “Take your ferret too,” Anko looked at Itachi, who was snoring softly on the bar counter, a half drunk glass of scotch near his hand.

“His name means weasel, Anko,” Hana growled.

“Right, and yours means flower,” Anko snorted. Hana shrugged as she gathered her things, before gently touching Itachi. The man sighed before looking up at her.

“You’re going to crash at my place, okay?” Hana said, it sounded more like an order. Itachi yawned, ignored the scotch and stood up, following her.

“What about my bike?” he asked.

“Ibiki will handle it,” Hana said.

“You’ll have it back by tomorrow err…this afternoon,” Ibiki shrugged as he cleaned a glass.

Itachi stiffened slightly as the dogs sniffed him. “Hang out on the couch while I take a quick shower,” Hana undid her hair.

“How about we take one together, hm?” he snuck up behind her, kissing her neck softly. Hana shivered.

“My shower sadly isn’t big enough,” Hana said.

“A likely story,” Itachi muttered.

“I thought you were drunk?” Hana asked.

“I am, but I’m sober enough to know what I’m doing,” he buried his face into her neck and hair. “But seriously Hana, it has to be big enough for the two of us,” he whispered.

“Fine, there is, but its gonna be tight and don’t try anything funny!” Hana growled.

“Uchiha’s honor!” he raised his right hand, a goofy grin on his face.

“Bullshit,” she shoved him playfully.

Hana had forgotten what it was like to take a shower with Itachi, actually, she forgotten what it was like to take a shower with anyone other than her dogs.

“You weren’t lying about the tight fit,” he snickered at his own crude innuendo.

“Pervert,” Hana grabbed a bar of soap and began to wash herself.

“That would be Jiraiya, who happens to own the biggest porn company in the world, may I add,” Itachi plucked the soap from her hand rather daintily. Hana sighed when his strong hands began to wash her back and relaxed her sore muscles. “Don’t fall asleep on me, you have to wash me next,” he whispered.

“Really?” Hana giggled.

“No,” he teased. Hana turned around and grabbed the soap, and motioned him to turn around. “Say please,” he chuckled.

“My shower, my rules, Uchiha. Now turn around!” Hana snarled.

“Yes ma’am,” Itachi turned around, he moaned softly as Hana washed his back. “I’ve missed your touch to much,” Itachi grumbled. “Too bad your shower isn’t bigger, we could have some fun,” Itachi gave her a perverted yet sexy grin.

“Save it,” she smacked his head. Itachi chuckled.

“I just hope I get a nice wild bedroom romp,” he muttered.

“Who said anything about sex?”

“Well, why else am I here?” Itachi gave her a dumb look.

Hana felt her cheeks burn. “Because I actually didn’t want Ibiki to drop your sorry ass at some third rate motel!”

Itachi turned and grabbed her face in his calloused hands and kissed her soundly on the lips. Hana blinked, before giving into the kiss. She felt Itachi’s tongue flick across her teeth, and she willing opened her mouth and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, battling with her tongue for dominance. Itachi slowly pulled away, his lips still clinging to hers as he looked at her with soulful onyx eyes, his wet ash black hair in his face, giving him a sexy look. Hana gulped, her loins growing wet and hot with desire. Tenderly Itachi brushed her wet brown hair out of her eyes.

“I know,” he whispered, a cocky smile on his face. “I was just teasing,” he kissed her again. He pulled away and smirked. “I make you hot with desire,” he snickered.

“Save it for the bedroom,” Hana growled.

“Heh, lemme wash your hair,” he grabbed her shampoo. “Hmm, apple blossoms,” he squirted some into his palm and began working the shampoo into Hana’s hair. Sighing, Hana languidly lolled her head back. “If you were a vampire, I would give you my blood right about now,” Hana chuckled.

“You and your vampires,” Itachi grumbled. “Besides, if I was a vampire, I would take your blood anyways and you would willingly give it.”

“Heh, good point,” she chuckled, she pulled away and rinsed her hair.

She left a very naked Itachi to his own devices, while she brushed her teeth. She was torn with telling him to put a pair of boxers on and crash on the couch or have a very heated tickle fight with him in her bed. Eventually, the desire to have a tickle fight with Itachi won out. She spat out the toothpaste suds, rinsed her mouth before flicking off the light, and walked into her bedroom.

She was surprise to see Itachi sitting on the bed reading a book. “Good book?” she asked. He smiled, closing it and setting it aside, before he pulled her into his lap.

“Not as good as you,” he kissed her neck. “Let me suck your blood!” he cackled in a terribly fake Romanian accent, and nibbled her neck as he massaged her breasts.

“Itachi,” she pushed away from the Uchiha. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

“If you don’t want to, let’s stop right now and I’ll go sleep on the couch,” he said evenly. Hana gulped, glancing around the room. For some reason she was suddenly afraid to sleep alone, without his overly familiar scent and his comforting touch.

“No,” she clung to him. “Don’t go Itachi,” she whispered.

“I’ll be gentle,” he kissed her tears away. “Ever so gentle,” he eased her nightshirt over her head, exposing her body to him.

He kissed a trail from her throat to her nipples, sucking on each breast while he fingered her sex. Hana inwardly cursed herself for wearing a nightgown appose to her pajamas, but when Itachi lightly nipped her breasts, and she arched her hips and back, the half formed cursed died as she moaned softly. The Uchiha gave a throaty chuckle as he worked Hana. Both ignored the three pairs of eyes at the end of the bed. “Aren’t you all hot and bothered?” he teased.

“So are you big boy,” she wiggled her hips, smirking when she heard him groan.

She ran her fingers through his hair, untying it easily. He shook his head, giving her a silly displayed on how he failed at being a hair model. She giggled, before kissing his neck, and his chest. “I’m on top,” he grabbed her ass, giving it a hearty squeeze. Hana gave a playful yelp as he over powered her and forced her onto her back, before throwing the covers over their naked bodies.

Hana smirked as her hands ran down Itachi’s sides to his waist. She gave his ass a nice squeeze and it earned her a dazzling grin from the Uchiha, before she teasingly stroked her way up his thighs and grasped the shaft of his very erect manhood. She gave it a firm squeeze; Itachi moaned, and Hana could smell the lingering alcohol on his breath. “Do…do…you have any idea…”he moaned unable to finish his though.

“I’ve fucked a few times,” she smirked devilishly at him. “Too bad we don’t have dango sweet sauce,” she teased.

“Hn,” he kissed the valley between her breasts before nuzzling the soft skin. “Maybe next time we can get kinky,” he purred, eyeing her. “Ready?” he asked.

“Do you have to ask?” she bucked her hips impatiently. He smirked and thrust himself deep into the arrow of her sex. Hana gasped as his erection settled in her slick cavern. She was the first to start the rhythm and Itachi quickly followed, and soon took the lead.

“Nngh…Ita…chi…” Hana closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Ha-na,” he growled into her neck. “Mine,” he kissed her pulse point. “All mine,” he ground his hips deeper into hers. Hana felt the pressure building.

“Ugh…gods…d-don’t stop…” she dug her nails into his back. He didn’t wince but the passionate light shown brighter in his black eyes.

“I’m a demon with a soul,” he kissed her neck. “Can you love me without losing your humanity?”

Hana smirked at him, her eyes hazy with her passion. “I’m an angel drenched in blood…can you love me without getting your soul destroyed?”

Itachi just gave her an arrogant Uchiha patented smirk, and thrust up to the hilt and she came. Her orgasm was a brilliant white hot flash of blissful rapture, which she could barely remember, but Itachi would tell her that she had screamed his name in thorough ecstasy. She felt him climax, sending his seed deep into her womb, and then she black out into sleep.

When she woke up, it was almost noon. “Nngh,” a pair of arms tightened around her waist. “Don’t go,” Itachi muttered in an oddly small voice. She rolled over to watch him, and wondered about their relationship. Was he her boyfriend, best friend that she slept with, friend? “How about fiancé?” Itachi whispered.

“What the hell?” she blinked.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” Itachi tapped her nose.

“I’ll have to think about it, on one condition,” she rubbed her nose against his.

“Oh, which is?” he asked with a smile on his face.

“You have to propose to me in the most romantic and sappy way possible,” Hana said. Itachi blinked before laughing heartedly. Hana shivered, loving how his rich tenor voice rippled from his throat. He rolled on to his back, one arm covering his eyes. “Well do we have a deal?” she asked.

“Sure, why not,” Itachi grinned. She growled happily before straddling his hips, kissing his collarbone.

“No, too early! Plus I have a killer hangover,” Itachi muttered. Hana slapped him playfully.

“Bacon and eggs then,” she made to get off of him but he pulled her back down.

“In a minute,” he kissed her. Hana smiled as he pulled away. The pain and the guilt had lessened in his eyes, but she knew it was would never truly go away, a silent monster waiting to strike. “Thank you Hana, for saving me,” he whispered before falling asleep. Hana yawned, and found herself slowly drifting off to sleep until she heard a pounding on the door. Deciding it was best to let her best friend that she slept with-slash-boyfriend-slash-fiancé to sleep, she groaned as she got out of bed to start her day.

I got in a fight with my parents Tuesday. Don’t want to talk about it. Anyways, I was so depressed and everything I just didn’t know what to do, and I was watching fanvids on YouTube, looking for some good funny Itachi stuff (YouTube as a server lack of Funny Itachi stuff, either that or I’m not searching the damn site correctly) when I stumbled across Itachi- So Cold.

I love So Cold, and when I saw it, I was like, FUCK! This would make a great ItaHana story. And before I knew it, I was up around one o’clock writing this damn thing! Fourteen pages long hand! Wow. Longest oneshot I’ve written longhand. Longest oneshot I’ve written to date, is Family a Zutara fic, that took me two days to write and topped out at 42 pages! You can find it on DeviantArt.

Personally, I think this is my darkest fic yet. Normally, I don’t have the characters do drugs or drink unless its to give them some kinda of bad ass look to them. But I didn’t want it light and fluffy, I wanted it dark and gritty. I think I did that.

Only thing I’m sad about it is, I want to write a multi-chapter original fiction like this! I can’t! *wallows in Tobi’s Corner of Self Pity* When I read this the next day, I was like FUCK! This shit is good! No! Better than good amazingly awesome or in other words EXCELLENT!

Written entirely to Breaking Benjamin. I heart that band.

This is also a gift fic for Stitch62603. I love ya girl! *hug*

I may or may not write a squeal. So far I haven’t been able to keep the darkness. Meh.

R’n’R or I’ll zombie-fy you! Muwhahahahahaha!

DJ