Pairing: Itachi x Sasuke
Disclaimer: Do you really think I own NARUTO?
WARNINGS: incest/shounen-ai, unexistant plot (or atleast a tiny bit of a plot with holes), slow updates (because I'm working on two fics at the same time and focusing on the other a BIT more), Sasuke's extremely dirty mouth (especially if he's drunk and he will be, many times), OOC:ness, dark themes, idiot drummers, sneaky evil mysterious men.. you'll see.
Recommended songs: Suigintou no Yoru (lyrics on this first chap is from this song, only translated to english, weird lyrics huh?), Stainless Night, Christmas On The Silkroad and Quincy no Hokori ni Kakete by who else but Noriaki Sugiyama, the voice for Sasuke. You know.
This is kind of different of what I usually write, but a friend of mine is a total manipulative bastard and shit happened and here we are. Hope someone reads (and likes).
- - -
Uchiha Sasuke has never known what true feelings are.
Lust. The passion.
Pain. It's smothering.
He can laugh, cry, get angry.. but not like the others. It's not real. Why it doesn't matter to him anymore?
Why, he's famous, has lots of fans, is one of the most wanted bachelors in our time, but he's just never interested.
Being a singer should be fun, lots and lots of hard work, but still. Something is missing from it. It's not like he hasn't had any offers before, hardcore offers for sex and drugs (and rock'n'roll, he admits), more innocent offers for dates, kisses, hugs, autographs. He rejects them all, his coal black eyes hard like steel, always, every single time looking somewhere else than to the one who's offering.
It's like he's scared. Somehow.
Getting angry and lashing at his bandmates for everything, shutting off everyone. You can hear it in his music, in his voice, it's like he's calling for someone, not really knowing who. Like he's in pain, the way he writhes on the stage, slender fingers clutching the microphone, eyes scanning the crowd of screaming fans. Looking for someone, calling for someone. Just.. someone to take him away.
Save him from himself, from his hidden feelings that threaten to burst out. He hides it from everyone, from the prying eyes of his manager, Pain - what a fitting name that is! -, from the worried gazes of his weird and weirder bandmates. Not really caring if they knew that he's scared, he feels lonely, like there's a hole in him.
Tonight, perhaps. Maybe tonight, when they have their gig, someone's there? Someone's eyes are on him - not just any, not the lustful eyes of those teenage girls -, seeing deeper, seeing beneath the surface.
Tonight when he and his bandmates step on the stage, filling the place with their dark sounds, telling stories of hatred, lust, misery.
Tonight it is.
Soft sounds begin to fill the large room, completely crowded by screaming fans, mostly young females - most perhaps attracted to the gig by the gorgeous players -, and interested males. First there comes the bassist, the quiet man, his oddly-coloured hair shining in the dim lights, fingers already on the strings. Then there's a loud bang, flash of light and the guitar moans loud, the guitarist bursting out laughing, the drummer grins at him, he grins back. Another set of fingers is running over the keyboard, transferring the ones hearing the sounds it makes to totally another world. World that is dark and black and sinister.
And then comes the voice, that hypnotizing, silky voice:
"The light of the mercury lamp that emerges in the night streets
even if I don't have tears, it still somehow runs down..."
And they all forget everything, everything except the one lazily strutting to the centre of the stage. The leader, the one keeping it all together.
"..My black shadow that hides in the night streets.."
The room is suddenly very silent.
"..even if I don't have any sympathy, somehow my walking pace is fast.." Just listening to that voice that has already swallowed their hearts and made them forever its slaves.
It's hypnotic, the way he moves, the way he sings, the way his fingers move up and down the microphone. They all know who he is, what he does, Sasuke Uchiha, that is, Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke, they whisper and then begin to scream. There's a slight smirk on his lips now, even though his black eyes are so cold.
"..On my back there's one more scent of tears
that follows me, that follows me.."
And his eyes are scanning the crowd again, once in a while setting on someone, but never for long.
"..that follows me, that follows me..."
It's seductive, the way the lights are caressing his black-clad body, making his white skin stand out even more, the porcelain boy that everybody wants but no one gets. He can see it, the stupid, pitiful lust in their eyes, the passion, the love - how can they know that? how can he know that? love, what is it? - , the envy - ooh that's a feeling he could understand! - and all that. Their feelings are so strong, so powerful it flows into him.
"On my back is the single hesitation of my heart
that flees, that I go after
that flees, that goes right past me.."
He's teasing them, he knows it. It's the 'you can watch, but you can't touch'-aura around him. Even the bandmate of his - the eccentric drummer called Hidan -, who's a notorious ladies man and man's man, sometimes, knows to keep his hands off. Sasuke doesn't let anyone that close, trouble trusting, perhaps?
Oh, what is that?
Who is that?
There's a pause in his singing, he barely notices it, the others don't notice at all. Black eyes widening a bit, breath hitching in his throat. Another set of dark eyes settles on him, sending shivers down his spine, that gaze is.. deep. Like it sees right through his soul ..
"One, two, the shadows combine.."
The man standing in the dark is like a shadow, like he's going to disappear any second. Isn't this what he wished for? Someone to truly see him, see the pathetic little coward he is? Sasuke stares, his voice lowering down into a husky whisper - the poor, pitiful fans always love it-, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.
"...and stabs me through the heart
The two shadows that merge together
In the evening of the mercury lamp..."
The man in the shadows smirks, never speaking, just standing there. Sasuke can't take his eyes off him, white fingers clutching the microphone, lips barely open.
Why is the other so hypnotic, it's like he's a dark angel from somewhere deep and fiery, coming to... what?
Take him away?
Sasuke blinks, but doesn't stop, his gaze fixed on the other.
Why does it feel like fingers are strangling him?
Few more songs and sweatdrops later they make their dramatic exit, only to know they would return. No, it doesn't take a long for the fans to do their job and start screaming their lungs out.
"ENCORE! ENCORE! AGAIN!" They scream all over again, those girls with their dark make-up, those boys with their dark clothes, all of their styles imitating the ones in the band. So encore it is, they march on the stage, filling the hot, crowded space with their being, the sounds of dying feelings. Sasuke sings, but his thoughts are somewhere else, his eyes follow the tall figure in the back of the large room, wishing for that smirk to come up again, wishing for those pleasant - although strange - shivers go up and down his back.
The figure looks back and really does what he's expected, Sasuke can see him licking his lips for a second. His grip on the microphone suddenly tightens, breathing feels more harder than ever. He blinks and almost stumbles, awkwardly almost - just almost - smiling, but gaining control of himself once more.
It's over and the fans never see anything different in their god, not noticing that the wetness on his face is not sweat, that the flush comes not from the hard singing and rocking. The figure that he's been following with his eyes, with his heart, is looking triumphant, it's like he knows it's his fault that Sasuke's in pain, like someone's strangling him. When the figure turns away, disappears, Sasuke wants to run and stop him.
No, no, no! Don't go, don't go..
I want to know who you are.
Why do I feel like this?
What do you do to me?
But no, the figure is gone, the gig has ended but there's still things to do. And no, Sasuke's not the type to run after someone, he's the one who expects everyone to run to him. Indeed, things to do and he pushes the stranger away from his mind. They still have to meet those giggling girls, vip-visitors, those damn annoying fans that always want hugs and kisses and autograps and photos and are sometimes so daring to ask for sex.
Hidan is the one who always agrees - sex addict, Pain snorts and kicks him for good measure -, Deidara agrees too, even though he doesn't actually care, doesn't even like it. But Sasuke. He never says a thing, shakes his head and backs away. Touching is a no-no. Now when he's sitting backstage, slipping of his leather jacket, leaving the damn hot mesh shirt on, sipping his water, he feels miserable. He sighs when Deidara starts listening his OLIVIA-cd:s and dancing his stupid dances.
"Oi, Sasuke-kun," the honey-ed voice starts and he snorts.
"What, mr. Pain?" The name is just too freaky, so he actually manages to chuckle, even though his heart is giving out. Where did the dark figure go?
"I noticed something while you were on stage," their manager starts and sits opposite to him. His messy orange hair combined with his many many piercings and those hypnotic eyes always manage to freak everyone out. Pain was a famous rock star few years ago, until he noticed that teasing new stars is more fun than doing all the hard work himself. Lazy bastard, today's rockstar thinks.
Pain in the ass, fortunately not literally. Sasuke raises his eyebrow. The manager barely grins, the dim lights of their room dancing on the silver of his piercings.
"You weren't there." Other eyebrow rises too.
" Yes, singing, I know, but your presence. It wasn't there. What were you looking at? Those fans aren't that interesting, or those shadows in the back of the room. Or..." Pain leans forward and now reveals his teeth. Sasuke narrows his eyes, ready to snap back at him. He's so not in the mood for this.
".. was there someone interesting?" The singer almost chokes on his water, black eyes widening.
"W-what?" He croaks, coughing.
"No, no.. there.. w-wasn't." His voice shakes and he hates himself for it. Pain's dangerous eyes narrow. He doesn't believe a word and Sasuke knows he sucks at lying. But they are interrupted, when Hidan's loud laugh echoes from somewhere.
"Oi! Sasuke! Sir Pain! They're heeeeereeeee!" It's like the air-headed drummer doesn't realize that his voice causes people to actually wish to be born with natural ear plugs.
Geez. Sasuke sighs. "..the fuck." He stands up and readies himself for the meeting of the few lucky fans. He excepts, as always, a group of giggling, barely sixteen-year-old girls with dark-circled eyes and dark clothes and blushing faces, but no. He gets something else.
Yes, there are girls, pretty, like always but Sasuke doesn't care. Let the others take care of them. Zetsu, the quiet bassist with black and white hair, shooks his head while noticing the last fan - is this.. man really a fan or some intruder? - and the look on Sasuke's face. Hidan doesn't notice, he's too occupied with the girls, as is Deidara, always the funny guy. Kisame shows his sharp canines and earns a few "terrified" shrieks from the girls.
Sasuke bites his lip and lowers his gaze.
The man standing in front of him is exactly the one that he was staring at.
And he feels ashamed for acting like that, but...
"Good evening, Uchiha-kun." That voice. So deep and quiet, with a hint of sarcastic personality. Sasuke blinks and looks up. He flinches. The other is suddenly very close now, the noise of the room disappearing somewhere, leaving him in the silence, noticing just the other. Dark eyes. Just like his. Dark hair. Just like his.
He doesn't like to admit it, but it's there. The attraction. The fear.
"A..Ah.. g-good evening," Sasuke chokes on his words, hates how weak his voice is. Fingers on his hair, now on his cheek, on his jaw, his eyes meets the others now and he shivers.
"Why are you scared? I am just "poor, pitiful fan"... is that it?" Sasuke's eyes widen. It's like the other read his mind. He bites his lip again, shivering all over.
"W.. who are you?" His only answer is a amused chuckle, finger sliding over his lips. Sasuke hates this, hates himself for being suddenly like a weak little boy, hates the other for being so.. alluring, like the nameless man is seducing him, that damned devil.
"You learn my name later, Uchiha-kun. Now.. will you come with me?" He whispers and Sasuke shooks his head. What a fucking pedophile.
"No way in fucking hell," he hisses and is ready to claw at something. He hasn't even noticed, how he has rosen, how he has walked behind the other, away from the room, out of sight. The nameless man's dark eyes glimmer, he's amused. He doesn't say anything, presses his hand again Sasuke's chest, pushes him so embarrassingly easily against the wall.
"W-what.. the fuck do you think you're - " There it is, the breath on his face, fingers caressing his cheek. It's so close, few inches that those lips would touch his, but no, the other teases, laughs against his face.
"You'll learn who I am someday, Uchiha-kun." Sasuke claws at the other's shirt, not really wanting for the other to let him go. Blaming his lack of resistance on his two-hour-sleep, on tonight's tiring gig.
"... thought so," the taller man says, backs away and still doesn't do what Sasuke wants him to do. No touching.
It's a no-no.
And the man is gone and Sasuke crumbles to the floor, hand on his face, eyes wide. What. The. Hell.
When they finally get back to the hotel room, Sasuke refuses contact with anyone. He doesn't feel like eating either, food would taste like total crap in his mouth now. He's tired, his head is spinning, but he doesn't want to sleep either. Who knows what kind of dreams would he see? He just can't. It's a pain in the ass to share a room with four nosy people, that is, two loudmouthed idiots and two other weirdos, but they can't help it.
Sasuke stands in the balcony, leaning over the railing, staring at the brightly-lit city and can't help wonder, like a love-struck teenage girl, he thinks mockingly, tightens his hold on the railing. Is that man still there? Does he walk on some street, maybe that one right below his balcony, looks up and sees him there. It's so dark he can't see, in his eyes that is. He dislikes himself for missing someone shady and weird and interesting like that. Sasuke curses quietly and turns to face the room, the night breeze is getting too cold for him.
He stops and raises his eyebrows. It is kinda unnerving to see five more or less creepy guys - yes, including Pain, where the heck did he come from? - staring at you. Even Zetsu, who's usually not interested at anything, is gazing at him. Sasuke narrows his eyes, not wanting this. Don't ask questions, you stupid, cursed people! Because I don't know the answers, I just don't know. I don't want to tell you, he wants to yell, but no sound comes out, except for a snappy:
"What?!" His answer is a wide grin from Deidara, who tries to poke his forehead, he backs away just in time.
"You were totally out of it, Sasuke-kun," the blonde guitarist mocks.
"You're never out of it, Sasuke-kun," Kisame adds and cocks his head to the side. His sharp teeth really could make anyone nervous. Sasuke looks away, eyebrow twitching.
"So..." That horribly irritating chuckle again. Deidara looks like he has just heard the best joke ever.
"There was someone interesting in the crowd, now wasn't there?" Now it's Pain, his voice is creepingly deep but amused, even though he never shows a smile. His hypnotic eyes lock Sasuke in their trap and his caught by the sudden question. Before he gains control of himself, the others lean forward, worry turning into curiosity.
"Oh my... is our little Ice Princess a human, after all? Who - "
"Fuck off," Sasuke hisses angrily. "It's none of your fucking business what's happened and for your information, nothing. has. happened. I'm just really tired and you're not helping! There. Is. NO ONE!" He doesn't realize that he's almost yelling by now, scared that the others would find out about... well, that. He never yells. He can hiss and claw and be a bitch, but he never yells. Never loses his nerve like that, is always the quiet one. But now it's different and why's that?
He charges to the door and runs in the corridor, away. This room, these people are choking him.
"No, Zetsu-san," Pain stops him when he sees the bassist edging to the door. "Let the Ice Princess cool down on his own. And you know..." The manager shows a hint of his rare smile.
"That by reacting so strongly, there's sure to be someone that caught our Princess' eye," now he's serious again, even though his tone of voice give away his sarcasm and curiosity.
"Now, I wonder who that someone might be. He or she must be special to get under Sasuke-kun's skin," he continues, shaking his head. He knows his right. Since when is the boss of the company, the manager of the popular band wrong? Especially when it's him?
"I must go. Take care," he walks away from the room, leaves four more or less dumbfounded men behind.
Downstairs, at the hotel bar, which fortunately is open till 4am, Sasuke sits on his lonely table, staring numbly at the glass in his hand. What is he doing here, drowning his confusion into the sweet bliss that alcohol brings for a while, perhaps? Like that's going to help, but he wants desperately to forget his messed up thought even for a minute. He downs that glass and more after that. Dizzy and miserable. Miserable and dizzy. The table starts to spin in his eyes. He stumbles up and limps towards the door. Oh goddamnit, where did the... floor.. disappear.. he sighs and grabs his head. God it hurts. He doesn't have time, everything vanishes into darkness around him.
Sometime after, he wakes up. Dizzy, head spinning and feeling like it's going to split open. He reaches out his hand and grabs something. Hmm. He sees the red numbers and sighs. Five in the fucking morning. He turns around in the soft sheets, still drowsy from sleep and hangover. It takes him few seconds to realize that something is very, very wrong. Sheets? This is not.. not his room. He blinks and looks around, only then realizing too that his clothes have somehow disappeared. What the hell happened last night! He wonders and sits, starting to panic and despising himself for it.
"Oh. You're awake, Uchiha-kun," says the all-too-familiar voice and Sasuke's eyes widen. He rubs his tired eyes, shakes his head and forgetting the splitting headache for a second. There.
There in the doorstep is that man, that deceiving smirk on his young, intriguing face. And those eyes, dark, dark eyes - is that a hint of red he sees? - that Sasuke feels like he's being pulled into. He rips the poor rock star apart with that look, but the latter can't look away. He tightens the blanket around him, it brings at least a little safety from the prying eyes.
"Explain," he whispers, biting his lip.
"What the fuck am I doing here?!" He hisses, grabbing the shreds of his dignity and courage, even though he's stark naked - of sweet Jesus, that too! - in a total stranger's room. The stranger comes closer, sits on the edge of the bed. Sasuke backs against the wall, dragging the silky blanket, damn it for being so thin, with him. The stranger looks at him, his eyes are so black, his face older, tired. But the curving of his lips, that teasing smirk is tempting. Sasuke flushes and quickly looks away, feeling terribly uncomfortable under that gaze.
"Don't you want to be?" The strange man asks and Sasuke flinches, his defenses starting to crumble. It's embarrassing how easily that happens. His eyes narrow and his hands start to shake, those slender, white fingers.
"W-what the fuck do you think? I have a.. g-goddamn hangover and some stranger decides to kidnap me!" It's all he can say, before a finger is placed on his lips, succesfully silencing him. Or is it because that other hand which places feather-light touches on his face, on his chest.
"I took you with me a little after you fainted at the bar. There was no one there at that time of night, you know. Something could have happened," the stranger looks almost hurt that Sasuke would dare to doubt him for ulterior motives. He moves his hands away, it's like he has never done anything. Sasuke trembles, wanting to believe, but his rational side is screaming for him to run away.
"Are you... telling the truth?" He hisses, on the verge of believing. The miserable hangover and confused feelings towards this person cloud his judgement, are making him think twice. He can barely keep himself under control. The stranger moves away, near the door, shrugging.
"I'm a bad liar," he admits, the light of the room creepily dancing in his eyes. Now Sasuke knows his lying, or is he? He looks at the rock star, that dangerous gaze that sends shivers.
"Fuck off," Sasuke whispers and stumbles out of the bed. He reaches the door, tries the lock and turns around, but before he even has time to open his mouth, the voice whispers right beside his ear and nibbles lightly on it:
"Don't you care about your dignity? Running like that in the corridors." Sasuke almost drops the blanket that he's desperately holding onto as he flinches.
"I-I care about only getting out of here. You have no right. Unlock. The. Door," his voice lowers down into a whisper, he's ready to do everything to get away. The blackhaired man leans forward, still smirking.
"As you wish, Sasuke," lips brush his forehead, fingers touch his face and then there's the audible click, indicating that the door is now unlocked.
"Y-you- !" Sasuke stutters and stumbles, when the other pushes him to the corridor.
"I bid you farewell," the other says mockingly and licks his lip, winking. He closes the door right in front of him. The corridor is terribly quiet. Sasuke stares at the closed door for a second, totally dumbfounded. Then he blinks and hisses.
"Fucker!" He knows the stranger won't open, no matter who much he does that. Fucker, he thinks again and turns to walk away, completely and utterly humiliated. But wasn't it you who wanted to get away, even without your clothes, whispers the little voice in the back of his head. He tightens the blanket around him and runs. He's glad it's an early morning so no one's really there.
What floor is this.. number... number.. what the.. ! The fucker had been under him all the time, just one floor! Sasuke hides the other feelings in his anger and runs the stairs, hoping that no one sees. And no one sees, but he still feels like someone's eyes are on him. Wasn't that what he wished for? Don't kiss me, don't touch me. He reaches his room's door and knocks, lowering his head in shame. It opens. Pain doesn't say anything, just shakes his head.
"Don't let it get into your head," the manager says and looks serious for a while. Sasuke avoids their looks, their questions and locks himself away in the bathroom. Don't kiss me, don't kiss me.
Why didn't you? You're confusing me, what the fuck am I supposed to do?
Sasuke hugs himself and closes his eyes. Only thing he sees is the look on the stranger's face.
The next evening they leave for New York. The flight is too damn long and tiring, even the usually bouncy Deidara is creepily quiet, staring at the darkening sky. The others are sleeping, although you can see a glint of light between Pain's eyelids. Sasuke just sits, large earphones covering his ears, the rockband Girugamesh screaming in his head. He seems like he doesn't even listen, his thoughts are on something else.
'Don't you want to be?' That voice whispers again and again and Sasuke wants to say yes, yes, yes, but no, I can't, I won't. You make me so sick. You make me feel dirty, just by glancing at me. You make me hate myself even more, but still I want to see you. How pathetic can I get? Sasuke bites his lip, drawing blood. That guy. Fucking with his head. He gets up and walks to the WC, closing the door behind him. He kneels and closes his eyes. He feels like throwing up.
His eyes are stinging, his hands grab the edges of the toilet. Fuck you, he curses in his mind, but he's not angry. Pathetic. Pathetic, he tells himself over and over again. He feels awful. Pitiful. Walls of the toilet are filthy white. Poor, poor rockstar is like a black stain, dirtying the whiteness. He gets up and unlocks the door, slides back onto his seat.
At least he will be able to concentrate on his upcoming tour and /not/ his mysterious... stalker. Fan. Whatever. A sigh escapes from his lips and he closes his eyes. Better just sleep, angsting over the fucker won't do anything good.
'I hope that guy doesn't give me any nightmares', he thinks before he drifts to sleep...
...' So, you're here." The voice is as enchanting as ever. He shivers, his nails are digging into his fists.
"Y-yeah. I'm here," he answers and glances around. The darkness around him is suffocating. It's so terribly cold, he shivers, but not entirely from the cold. This.. robe..thing doesn't really warm him.
"But what is here?" He asks, looks around again.
"You don't need to konw that," the voice answers him. Chuckling, right there! Now it's near him and he knows it's that man.
"You! Why are you - !" He's not given the chance to say anymore, there are lips on lips, fingers tickling the skin. He closes his eyes and feels ashamed when hears someone whine. He knows it's he himself...
He digs his fingers into the other's long hair, feeling too hot all of a sudden. The other is nibbling slightly on his lower lip.
Something's disturbing him, his eyes are wide open now. No, no, no, don't... the hand is brushing the robe out of the way.
"Sasuke, dammit!" He blinks and realizes he's still in the plane, sweating on his seat. His earphones have fallen to the floor.
"W-what?" He stumbles, looking at the face of the bewildered Hidan hanging in front of him. The usually free-spirited drummer is looking uncharastically worried. He quickly retreats his hands from Sasuke's shoulders, when the singer shoots his icy, icy stare on him.
"R-right. But I just thought that you were having a nightmare.. since you were all writhing around and mumbling..." Hidan explains, frowning. If it was anyone other than Sasuke, then he would have gone red that instant. But now, his face remains blank and icy. So.. mumbling? He really does hope he didn't say anything.. weird. He looks away.
"Fuck off," he says, putting back on his earphones. The signal to end the conversation. Hidan smiles, he knows the time when Sasuke doesn't really mean it. He pats the singer's head and slides back to his place.
Why isn't this damn flight over?
-- - - - - - -
Some time later they arrive to the airport. Terribly tired, desperately wanting to get to the hotel and to sleep, they drag themselves towards the limo. Hidan starts to jump around, Deidara pokes everything like an overly-curious five-year-old, Zetsu doesn't care, Kisame pulls Hidan back before he breaks something. Our little ice princess tucks himself into the corner of the car and pulls his hood up. It's not like they haven't travelled by limo before, isn't it?
Wait a second.
Wait just a fucking second -!!
Is that... Sasuke presses his face against the window. It's that man indeed, walking away, dragging two bags with him.
Sasuke feels his face flush when the stranger looks straight at him. He can't look away. Can't, even when the limo starts to move, he tries to look back, to get a glimpse.
The hotel is nothing fancy, it's like a copy of all the hotels they have been before. Sleep overcomes them for few hours, before Hidan wakes them all up. His wonderful decision is to drag the rest of the S.I.N to a bar. Not just any bar, but the hottest night club in the whole city, or at least, this side of the city. It's always filled with celebrities; actors, actresses, singers, rappers. Those who aren't popular, try to do everything to get inside. Chidori is a club with very strict codes, but fortunately S.I.N has two advantages: they are, after all, insanely popular and their eccentric manager knows two of Chidori's doormen, who both are built much like Arnold Schwarzenegger.
'hella scary,'" as Deidara puts it, when they see those doormen. Those lining towards the door step mutter and yell when they glide past them, but all that changes when they see who exactly they are. Fangirls and fanboys alike, start to yell things like:
"Sasuke-kuuuuuuun, we love you!"
"Fuck me, Hidan-saaaan 3!" and a few:
"Pain-sama, Pain-sama!" All of that is absolutely ridiculous. Especially when they start to add the honorific after their names. Well, sorry for being part japanese. Sasuke's head is already aching when he gets inside.
The music is ear-deafeningly loud inside. Sweat, people, seduction, sex, drugs, all in one fine package. This is a place for celebrities to forget themselves for a while, in the midst of others. Sasuke's disgusted by it, he slides away from the crowd, from his bandmates, but who cares?
Hidan is already dragging two young boys away, Deidara thinks he's a stripper, attracting the attention of dozen drooling females. For God's sake, he could never understand those two. Even Kisame is teasing someone, grinning like the mad shark he is. Zetsu is hiding in the corner, talking to Pain. They're too creepy for anyone to talk to them, even in their drug high.
Sasuke sits beside the counter and orders something, Bailey's will do. It freezes him and he can become the notorious Ice Bitch again, no need to care about anything. He ignores the bartender's raised eyebrows, does he think the singer of the fucking S.I.N is an alcoholic?
He's already downing his fourth glass, ignores the calls of others. They know when to live him alone, now, don't they?
Poor boy, doesn't he remember what happened the last time he got drunk? He gulps, eyes widening, that voice suddenly rings in his head again.
'Don't you want to?' It's like an icy finger trailing down his spine. He pushes the glass away from him and shivers. He can't, he just can't! Turn. Stare. His drummer and guitarist grind against each other, make out and get happily wasted. And make a few fans - where did they come from? - scream in joy. AND faint. Pfft. Typical fangirl-reaction. Sasuke sneers in disgust and shakes his head. Idiots.
He doesn't notice.
Oh no, doesn't notice someone sitting beside him, ordering a wine glass.
The poor singer freezes to his spot. No. Not here.
He turns his head. Black eyes grow so wide.
"Me," the man chuckles and takes a sip from his glass. Sasuke stumbles as he stands.
"You're...y-you're following me," he says. What are you, a little girl? Stop sounding like one!
"Indeed, Sasuke." The lack of honorific hurts his ears. That man has no right, absolutely no right to call him by his -
"Itachi-san, here's more," the bartender says and smiles sweetly, pushing another wine glass towards the man. Sasuke raises his eyebrows.
"Yes, Sasuke. That's my name. So you don't have to call me 'you' anymore," Itachi chuckles. The rockstar frowns. Why is that name so familiar? He backs away when the stalker stands up.
"Do you want to come with me?" He smiles. Pure white teeth, he grins like a predator. His fingers are long and white as he touches the singer's shoulders. Sasuke swears he sees a hint of red in the other's eyes. Itachi repeats the question, his tone deceivingly gentle, but the curve of his lips promising something entirely different, something cruel.
Sasuke can't look him in the eyes anymore, he feels too warm now, the other is way too close.
"F-fuck off," he whispers, runs to the middle of the dancers. Itachi follows, he walks, smirking. He's curious about the younger boy, admits that it's only a game, a very fun game to deceive the normally arrogant singer. There's that...other reason as well, but that is a secret, total secret, not meant for the ears of the world.
He follows, eyes narrowing.
Nobody notices, Hidan and Deidara too high in their fantasy world, Kisame too interested in other things, Zetsu too disinterested. Pain's dangerous eyes follow Sasuke, see the man after him. He doesn't do anything. Why would he? He knows his singer, knows his past and character. Pain turns his head away when he hears the door close. Really. All of Sasuke's business is not his business.
Outside, Sasuke finds himself in the back alley. How stupid. He leans against the dead end, the wall blocking his way. He presses his forehead against the hard concrete, breathing deeply.
Why the hell are his eyes stinging so much, his miserable black heart threatens to jump out of his chest.
No one has ever affected him like this.
Ever since his parents were killed so weirdly when he was a kid, he hasn't cried. But now he's here on this fucking dead end and there're tears on his face. The wall is icy cold against his forehead. Fuck that man. Fuck him. Fuck them all. Fuck it...
"Sasuke - " the chuckle rings in his ears. Now those hands are holding him too closely, too tightly. Sasuke goes stiff.
"I-Itachi. Let go of me," how he hates the weakness of his own voice. Dark chuckle sends cold shivers, so close that hot, hot breath, lips almost touching his neck.
He hates himself for liking it.
No, no, no, not like this. He can resist! he can...not. He turns and pushes the other away with shaking hands. It's not that he manages that, it's Itachi who backs away, still that smirk on his face.
"Don't touch me!" Sasuke almost yells, a raised fist aimes towards the taller man's face. Unfortunately, Itachi is faster, his hands graps the singer's thin wrist.
"Better not do that, Sasuke." How smoothly his name rolls off his tongue, the same that now invades his mouth, lips on lips and Sasuke's doesn't do anymore. Resistance is fucking futile. He closes his eyes and grabs Itachi's shirt, flushing when he realizes it's him moaning quietly into the other's mouth. Now Itachi's lips are moving to his jaw, his neck, his throat. Sasuke feels too warm, no, it's not.. r-right. It's getting harder to even think, he's ashamed when he hears the pathetic whine that escapes him. But is it really him?
Itachi's eyes are enchanting, dangerous.
- wakes up with a massive headache. Blink. Blink. He groggily sits up.
What the fuck.
He hits his foot against the night table beside the bed and curses, then sees a small note flutter to the floor. He picks it up. It's a note written by Pain, he's the only one whose handwriting is that neat.
'Good morning, Sasuke-kun.
We are checking out tonight's stage at Hebi. Come when you wake up, the driver's waiting. Yes I know, but it's your own fault for drinking so much and passing out in the damn club.
What the hell.
It goes forward so fast... or stuff. Well, shit happens. I write this mostly on how I am feeling, sooo... at least read. And then review.