Reposted due to an accidental deletion, sorry about that guys!, I seriously didn't mean to delete this!
Dedicated to PinkNeonSocks, because he loves this pairing more than me and he's being a sweetheart and doing my 'Chariots of Fire' assignment xD
First ItaSasu fic I've posted, just warning you.
Itachi and Sasuke are seriously OC here, but hey.. they're always OC when they're a pairing, lol!
Disclaimer: I don't own Sasuke because he's a insane bastard who I currently hate, and I don't own Itachi even though I've begged my parents... I do however own loads of Uchiha PLUSHIES!! xD
"Sasuke? This is Sasuke, right?" A garbled, cracking voice came in through my cell phone, slithering into my ear.
"Yeah… and this is…?" I lazily reclined back on my bed, waiting for a response.
"C'mon, man… can you not recognize your brothers voice?" There was a loud cough that dissolved off into drunken chuckling. "I-It's Itachi, Sasuke. Itachi. Your best mate."
I raised an eyebrow, sitting back up. "What the fuck, Itachi… what do you want?" I stole a glance at the dim numbers of my digital clock across the room. "It's almost three in the morning."
Laughter again. "Yeah, and we're vampires. The night is young, little brother. Very."
Shit, he was completely smashed. Why had he even called? I slowly rose to my feet, fingering the flimsy material of my skintight black hoodie and making my way towards the door. "Damnit, Itachi! Do you always have to get so hammered?" The fact that he'd been terribly drunk every night this week was beginning to get a little frustrating. There had to be a reason behind it, but I wasn't about to ask him in his current state.
There was no reply from the other end of the line for a moment, but then a hushed voice came. "Sas-sukkkkeeee," he drawled, almost whining. "Will you give me a ride home?"
The bastard was a royal pain in the ass. "What, do you expect me just to drive around town until I find your fucking sorry little ass? C'mon, Itachi. Let's be logical here."
The only feedback I got was a pleading snivel.
"Fine, you whore. Where the fuck are you."
Stammering out his location, which was apparently somewhere around the local bar, Itachishowered me in half-hearted 'thank you's' and told me, in a very suggestive tone, that he'd be waiting. God, a wasted Itachi was always a mindless Itachi. Not to mention extra-horny. I'd learned that the… hard… way when we'd shared an awfully boozed up kiss on the night of Itachi's birthday last year. But let's not go into detail about that.
"Jesus Christ, Itachi! What…" I warily eyed him, inspecting his twisted body, as he lay sprawled on the concrete at my converse-clad feet.
Bloodshot crimson eyes, smeared with charcoal makeup, flicked up to meet my gaze. "S'nothin', Sasuke. I just wanna go home." For the first time in a long while, my older brother sounded pitifully childish… and his looks sure weren't making anything better. His hair, the color of a gloomy grey cloud, was matted, and hung in his face in dirty clumps. His marble cheeks were streaked, a sickening mixture of ebony and crimson – his mascara… and… blood? That worried me, because it's not often that vampires bleed. Splotches of grey and dull blue and muddy purple, trailed from his jawbone to neck, pooled beneath his seemingly translucent skin in blaringly obvious bruises.
"You obviously got into something, dude. You look like death."
He smirked, struggling to get to his feet. "Hah, funny one, Sasuke." His slurred voice was alarmingly hoarse. I grabbed his wrist and yanked him up into a standing position, slinging his arm around my shoulder just before he plummeted back down. He cringed, and I didn't know whether it was the fact that he was totally beat up and plastered or that we were so close to each other.
"In all seriousness, Itachi… what the fuck happened?" I led him to the car, which took a ridiculously long time to get to seeing as Itachi was swaying and stumbling over his own feet the whole time.
"Some guy… said something about me stealing his girlfriend, then punched me in the face and left without another fuckin' word." Itachi practically collapsed into the passenger seat the moment I opened the door for him. "Which I didn't steal his girlfriend by the way. Musta been 'nother guy that looked like me…" He shifted uncomfortably as I slid into the drivers seat, revving up the engine and pressing the gas pedal, starting on our way back home. "Damnit, everything fucking hurts. Why can't vampires be like… invincible and quick to heal like goddamn humans always say we are?"
I shrugged, quickly hitting the button on the dashboard that turned on the radio. A comforting stream of heavy guitars and clashing drums poured from the speakers, and I drowned out Itachi's senseless, incoherent mumbling, bobbing my head in time with the music. I guess I got a little too into it, because it took me a moment to realize Itachi was nearly screaming my name.
"Sasuke! Sasuke, stop the fucking car, goddamnit! I'm gonna fuckin' be sick—"
Slamming on the brakes, I veered off the side of the road, ever thankful for the sporadic patches of grass that seemed to be scattered alongside the highway. The Nissan screeched to a stop and Itachi just about leapt out the open window, his arms wrapped around his lean stomach as he staggered onto the brittle grass and threw up.
"Lovely," I muttered under my breath, silently thankful that I had a high tolerance for witnessing disgusting things. I turned my back from the scene, and though I was spared the sight, I still was blessed with the lovely gagging noises that always accompanied.
"Sasuke," Itachi hiccupped, his voice distant. "Sasuke, I feel like absolute shit."
I swiveled around, making a face as I saw Itachi curled up on the ground, his knees pulled up to his chest as he trembled violently. "You don't exactly lookgodly, either," I snorted, though I was secretly a little concerned. Despite how many times I'd seen Itachi drunk, I'd never seen him get this bad afterwards, and the cuts and dark bruises on his body weren't exactly helping. "...You okay, Itachi?"
He shook his head, his crimson eyes flashing wildly in the silver moonlight. "I… I don't know why the fuck I'm like this," he muttered, his voice gravelly. His shaking had intensified; he was all but convulsing now. "It's like I'm fucking going into withdrawal or something." He finished his statement with a slight laugh, though the look on his face conveyed anything but humor.
Not quite sure of what to say, I made my way swiftly to his side, assisting him in getting up, and nearly dragged him back to the car. "We need to get you back to your house, Itachi. You're completely totaled."
"Yeah… yeah, that. Let's go home, Sasuke."
Forcing open Itachi's front door and lurching through the doorway, I held closely to my brother's shoulder, making sure he wouldn't fall down or trip or walk into anything.
"Sasuke," he groaned, clasping his arms firmly around my chest and losing his balance, crashing to the ground… and bringing me with him. "Sasuke, everything hurts… God, I feel like shit…"
"Yeah," I snapped, "I bet. You should get washed up and then get some rest. You're just wasted, Itachi. It's nothing new or exciting. Stop your bitching and moaning." I was being a little harsh now, I guess, but I couldn't help it. I scrambled to sit up, trying to squirm out of Itachi's death grip that had slipped down to around my waist, but he was latched to me like a bloodthirsty leech. "Get off, you little bastard."
Itachi grinned dumbly, his eyes glassy. "I can't let go, Sasuke. I think I'm stuck." He tried to scoot closer to me, but instead just winced with pain.
"Bullshit, motherfucker. Lemme go. I really don't appreciate getting your blood and eyeliner smeared all over my jeans. They weren't cheap, you know." I clawed at Itachi's fingertips in a desperate attempt to pry myself free, but it was to no avail. He clearly wasn't about to release me from the prisons that were his arms. "Itachi! Get the fuck off of me, yeah?"
Itachi shook his head groggily, only tightening his hold, a mixture of pain and drowsiness parading on his angular features. "I dun wanna," he complained. God, he was so fucked up when he was inebriated.
I sighed, crossing my arms as I sat, Itachi's arms still hooked around my stomach. "You need to take a goddamn shower, Itachi. C'mon, I'll help you up the stairs."
Much to my relief, he finally caved, pouting like a kid as he liberated me from his grasp. Before he had the chance to grab me again, I leapt to my feet, tugging him up after me, and we clambered noisily up the winding wooden staircase.
Stepping into the small bathroom, Itachi didn't think twice as he reached for the hem of his dark grey shirt. He tugged the top over his head, flinching involuntarily as his fingers brushed over bruises and scrapes. He threw the dirty, crinkled shirt to the floor, then stretching his long limbs, his arm and stomach muscles flexing. I couldn't help but notice his abs… a perfect six-pack. I think I was… a little… jealous. His hands fell, fumbling to unclasp his belt. He wriggled his hips a bit, as though he were dancing, clearly still in an intoxicated state, as he began pulling down his impossibly tight black jeans. I was a little distracted, I guess, because it took a short moment before I realized what was going on.
"Itachi! C-can you not wait for me to leave the bathroom?!" My words were jumbled as I staggered backwards, safely making my way out of the room that a half-naked Locke currently occupied.
Licking his lips, Itachi's ocher eyes danced mischievously, and he only proceeded to finish taking off his pants, making sure I was paying full attention. "But Sasuke, you've always loved a good ol' fashioned – ouch, damnit – striptease, right?"
My eyes widened, and a strangled noise escaped from the back of my throat. "Yeah, Itachi, from the pretty whores at the club, not from you."
"Aw, Sasuke, you're no fun," he slurred, making a pouty face. I shrugged and scrambled downstairs before having to witness any more of his little 'striptease.'
As soon as I heard the water running, I knew I had a little time to myself, and flopped down onto the couch, sighing heavily. I glanced at the clock. It was a little past five a.m. I wasn't tired, but I had nothing to do, so I let my eyes shut and I drifted into a light sleep.
My eyelids fluttered open slowly, and I peered across the room at the blaringly bright numbers on the clock. "Six in the morning, damnit." My charcoal-blue eyes darted around the dark, dusty room… only to find it otherwise empty. I could still hear the shower from upstairs. What the fuck had Itachi been doing in the shower for a whole fucking hour?
I rolled my eyes and trudged to the bottom of the spiral staircase. "Itachi!" I yelled up, hoping he'd hear me and get his ass out of the shower. His water bill would be ridiculous if he kept this up for any longer. "Itachi, what the fuck are you still doing in the shower?"
"Goddamnit, Itachi! Don't make me come up there and get you."
This kid would be the death of me.
No wait. Can't die twice….
Well, he'd be something bad, at least.
Lifting my heavy feet, I plodded back up the stairs, making a point to be obnoxiously noisy in the hopes that he'd answer. However, the only sounds that answered me were the creaks of the wooden boards under my feet.
I raised a tightly clenched fist, pounding on the bathroom door. "Itachi, dude. Get out of the goddamn shower already."
I waited. No reply.
Knocked some more, a sequence of profanities erupting from behind my lips. "Itachi! Goddamnit! You little fucker, get your bony ass out here!"
Still nothing. I was gonna murder him.
"What do you want me to do, huh? Come in and get you out? Does little baby Itachi need help getting out of the shower? Is it too slippery? You afraid you'll slip and fall, Itachi? Hmm?" I was talking so loudly that his next-door neighbours could probably hear me. And with his scarily acute hearing, there was no doubt in my mind that Itachi could hear me too. "ITACHI. Come ON. This isn't funny at all, you know. It's fuckin' six in the morning. I wanna go to sleep. At my own house."
After standing with my ear pressed to the white wood of the door for another five minutes, I reluctantly reached for the golden door handle, turning it and finding myself slightly disgusted when I discovered Itachi hadn't even locked it. I poked my head in, warily scanning the area before forcing myself to enter the room. "…Itachi?"
It wasn't steamy at all in the bathroom, which I'd expected. We vampires hate hot water. "Itachi, dude, answer me, for god's sakes."
Much to my discomfort, I still got no response. And I really did not want to have to venture behind the shower curtain to get one. "Alright, fine then. Next time you're just about dying behind some bar I'm not coming to pick you up." Surely he'd have something to say to that.
I yanked the shower curtain open, horrified for more than one reason.
First of all, I was staring at my sibling. Who was a guy. Naked.
And secondly because he was completely crashed on the floor of the bathtub, sleeping with his head against the tiled wall, an empty orange pill container in his hand as icy water from the showerhead mercilessly pelted his body. Trying to avert my gaze as much as possible, I bent down, kneeling next to the tub and plucking the bottle from his hand. "Sleeping pills."
He didn't even need sleeping pills. We all know that when you're drunk, it's all too easy to fall asleep in the wink of an eye. Why'd he feel the need to drug himself? Fucking idiot. I wanted to punch the shit outta the kid. Hell, I wanted to slash him up with the razor that was teetering dangerously in the soap holder. It wouldn't do any good either way, though. We're vampires. We're already dead. How much worse can it get?
Instead, I reined back my anger and tapped him lightly on the shoulder, finally provoking a groan out of him. "Whatdoyouwant?" The words were even more strung together than they were before. I could barely comprehend what he was saying.
"Itachi, what are you doing, trying to kill yourself all over again? First you drink until you're completely and totally out of it, then overdose on sleeping pills and fall asleep in the shower? If you weren't one of the undead already, you surely would be by now. I don't know what to do with you, man. Stand up." I motioned for him to rise, but he shook his head blearily.
"You really think I can stand up right now? I can't even t-talk straight," he mumbled, covering his eyes with a shaky hand. He then groaned loudly, adding, "I feel like I'm broken."
…Itachi was awfully melodramatic sometimes.
"Dude, you're gonna be okay. It's just a hangover and a few cuts. Here, grab my hand and I'll help you get up."
To my relief, Itachi nodded, obeying my requests, and held out his trembling hand. It was only then, as I assisted him in getting to his feet, that I truly realized what a faultless figure he had. He looked as though he were one of Michelangelo's statues, carved to the point of otherworldly perfection. His marble shoulders were broad, but not toobroad, leading to an effortlessly curved collarbone and a muscular torso. His hips were slim, impeccably proportionate to the rest of his lean figure; sharp hipbones jutting from his waist at angles that would have looked awkward on anyone else, but on him… it was perfect. I unintentionally let my eyes slip past his lower abdomen, my gaze probably lingering there for longer that what was comfortable for either of us. An unexpected tremor ran up and down my spine, and I blushed profusely, impossibly grateful that Itachi was so out of it that he'd never remember any of this.
Why was I checking out my big brother anyway? Oh god, it was just… wrong. "C'mon, Itachi… you have to get some clothes on," I muttered, clearing my throat. I reached down to the faucet, turning off the frigid blast of water that had been streaming from the showerhead, and smiled inwardly as Itachi threw his arm around my neck, resting his head on my shoulder and absent mindedly leaning his cold, wet body against mine for support. I hastily handed him a towel and then all but hauled him to his room.
"You can leave now," Itachi exhaled huskily, pulling a new t-shirt over his head and searching around for boxers and jeans. The fluffy white towel was just barely clinging to his protruding hipbones, so I figured it probably would be best if I left before I had to see the towel fall down.
But then there was a part of me that wanted to stay, to see that Itachi would fall asleep someplace more decent than the bathtub. As much as he'd ticked me off with his drunken antics already, I knew he was probably aching and I didn't want him to be uncomfortable once he did crash again.
Fuck, now I was being all worried about him?
"Yeah, good plan," I said, without really knowing the words left my lips. "I'll get going."
"Oh, god yes… oh god oh god yes Sasuke that's just the spot… ohhhh… fuck… harder, Sasuke, harder… ohhhh… don't ever stop, Sasuke, please don't… oh god… oh fuck…"
…You would think that a guy would be able to make a simple backrub sound a little less erotic. I mean, fuck, the sounds that were coming from Itachi were unbearably sexual. I may as well have been having wild hardcore sex with him. "Jesus Christ, Itachi, as if a guy giving another guy a massage isn't already bad enough, you go and make these awful noises."
"It turns you on, Sasuke, you know it. Ohh… yeah… right there… my GOD you're too good at this." Itachi squirmed slightly, moving so his back was pushed hard against my hands. I scoffed, disgusted, and swearing under my breath, continued kneading his tense muscles.
"You're goddamn lucky you're hurt and getting over a bad hangover, Itachi, otherwise there is no way I'd be rubbing your motherfucking back right now. I feel so flaminglygay. Guys don't give other guys back massages." I slid my hands up to his shoulders, working my thumbs against his bones. It was noon of the same day, and Itachihad oh-so-nicely just dropped by, looking miserable and begging for a quick little backrub. I felt kinda sorry for him, seeing as sleeping all curled up in a god-forsaken bathtub for an hour probably fucked up his spine pretty bad… so I, for reasons unbeknownst to me, agreed.
So now I was sitting on my downstairs couch, Itachi cross-legged on the floor at my feet, and I was giving him a fucking backrub.
"Yeah, but… you don't understand, Sasuke. You're so good at it. My god, become a fuckin' masseuse already. You'd be a millionaire. People from around the world would be flying here just to get a massage from you. I can see it already," he laughed, "in neon letters on a sign nailed to your front door – 'Sasuke Uchiha the Masseuse – he gives it hard.'"
"Shut the fuck up, you horny little bastard," I grumbled, skating my hands down to the small of Itachi's back and pressing with just the tips of my fingers. I couldn't help but notice when he visibly shivered under my touch.
"Mmmnnh," he moaned, the sound just loud enough for me to hear. His breathing was irregular, short and choppy as it exited his lips. "God, Sasuke… ohhhh… f-fuck… shit, Sasuke… that feels… so… fucking good…"
I raised an eyebrow, biting my bottom lip for a moment before supplying a remark. "Fucking Christ, Itachi, what are you, on the verge of orgasm?" When he didn't reply right away, my curiosity was spiked, and I rubbed more intently, subconsciously running my tongue across my pointed teeth. He whimpered softly, tilting his head back just enough for me to see his expression.
His eyelids, dusted in dark shadow, were squeezed shut, and his pierced lips were parted slightly, revealing just the tips of his fangs. It was an expression of pure and total ecstasy, of such bliss and satisfaction that it surely couldn't have been justthe backrub that was doing him good. I wasn't about to admit it out loud, and I didn't know why, but I did find myself just faintly aroused by the thought.
"Sasuke… go down… further."
I think I just about had a heart attack then and there. I was already at the very end of his spine – if I let my hands move down any lower I'd be grazing the top of his silver studded belt. "Itachi," I managed, surprised when I found that my voice was a bit raspy, "I didn't agree to give you an ass massage, you whore."
Itachi hardly had to think before he spoke again. "There's no denying that you like this too, Sasuke. Oh… god… just… Sasuke, holy fuck…just… please." I watched as he gripped the edge of the rug beneath him, arcing his back ever so slightly. Christ, he may as well have been jacking off in front of me.
He pretty much was, honestly.
"Why should I?" I murmured, pleased when I got a strangled gasp for a response. "Tell me, big brother, why should I allow my hands any lower?" I was completely and totally teasing him now. It was really rather amusing. I'd never seen him like this, apart from that time at his party. But again, I don't want to get into that.
"I want it," Itachi whispered huskily, shifting his position so he was forcing himself even more rigidly against my hands. "P-please, Sasuke… my god, just this once…"
"You don't always get what you want, dude," I insisted, still twirling my fingers on his lower back. "Does the 'quick little backrub' you originally asked for no longer suffice? Didn't I already tell you you're goddamn lucky you're even getting a backrub from me? I don't think just because you want me to do it is a good enough reason."
A grin involuntarily seized my lips when a low growl came deep from within Itachi's chest.
"You little motherfucker, Sasuke." Much to my amazement, Itachi scooted away from me, leaping to his feet and twirling on his heel so that he faced me. He gestured to his body. "Is this not enough proof that I want it?"
My greyish-blue eyes drank in the sight of him, running up and down his slim 6'3" body. Chest heaving, fair skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, whole body shaking and shivering, Itachi clearly not only wanted it, but needed it. And I surely couldn't let the bulge in his black jeans go unnoticed. Apparently my accusation of Itachi being… on the edge… wasn't too inaccurate.
"Uh." I tried to ignore the burning sensations that were currently building in my lower stomach. What the fuck did he expect me to say?! "I guess you really wa-"
"Shit, Sasuke, forget the massage," Itachi said in a hushed tone, gazing at me through hooded, lusty eyes. The blood orbs seemed to smoulder in the dimly lit room, burning into my opposing gaze like two fiery embers. "I don't want the damn massage."
I was flooded with relief, happy when I felt my body cooling off. I had control again. "Oh." I was going to leave it at that, but when I realized that Itachi wasn't moving and didn't appear to be doing any better, I was compelled to add more. "What do you want, then?"
A lopsided smile perked up the corner of Itachi's chapped lips. "You."
My breath caught, seeming to be stuck in the back of my throat. Surely this was just his residual drunkenness acting up. "That's… cute, Itachi. Real cute."
"No, you're delirious and just plain horny. You wouldn't be wanting any sorts of sexual activity from me right now if it weren't for the raging erection that's making your jeans even tighter." I flung myself back onto the couch, lounging casually as a tortured Itachi stood quivering beside me. "The bathroom's upstairs. You should know that by now, you practically live here."
Itachi laughed lightly, his lips twisting into a pained grin. "You don't get it."
"And neither do you. I don't think you got enough sleep, man. I think you'd be better off going home. Tomorrow you'll look back on this and grimace." I rose hesitantly from the couch, brushing off my rough denim jeans and standing a fair distance away from Itachi.
"No… Sasuke, I'm serious." He advanced towards me, the desire in his eyes indisputable. I would have moved back, but it appeared as though my feet were glued to the floorboards. We were now a mere few inches away from each other, Itachi's wintry breath tickling my lips, wisps of his blackish-grey hair brushing my cheek. He raised his hand, tenderly stroking my jawbone with his thumb.
"Don't you dare touch m-"
I was promptly cut off with another pair of lips covering mine, kissing me fervently, with such passion and urgency that I was just about knocked off my feet. A desperate tongue pushed my lips open, plunging into my mouth, tasting sweet yet bitter at the same time. It didn't take long before I registered what was going on, and I hastily yanked away, stumbling backwards, shoving Itachi far from me.
"Get away from me, Itachi! You little faggot!" I fumed, countless emotions rising in my chest. I wasn't sure of how I was necessarily supposed feel, but right now, I was pretty fucking upset.
"Itachi, what the fuck is up with you? Get out! My fucking god, Itachi, you just don't know when to stop, do you? I'm your motherfucking brother, not your free-access little whore! Get out of my house, you bastard!"
A heart-wrenching look of hurt seized Itachi's features, and he shook his head once before swiveling around and scurrying out the door.
I, on the other hand, collapsed back down onto the sofa and let out a long breath that I hadn't even known I'd been holding.
It was unusually gloomy outside.
I sat perched on my roof next to the brick chimney, hugging my legs to my chest and gazing up at the night time sky. Through the translucent black clouds, sparkling stars and the moon were visible. It was as though someone had poured a bucket of glowing beads into a mass of dark blue velvet and scattered them about, hanging a crescent-shaped ornament in the midst of everything as a final thought.
Resting my chin on my knee, I sighed heavily into the crisp night air, glancing with uncertainty about the boulevard. Apart from the eerie flickering of the bluish street lamp on the corner, there was little activity going on. Given, it was past midnight. I tend to forget that not everyone is a nocturnal vampire.
Despite how badly I was trying to distract myself, my mind kept wandering back to Itachi. My brother friend. Hell, my older brother. I'd been so horrible to him, so harsh, so mean for no reason at all. The culpability was beginning to eat away at my insides. And to fix it, I'd have to go apologize.
I slid down from the roof, thankful that it wasn't too far from the ground, and landed on the ground with a crack. "Fuck." Jumping off the roof when it's pitch black out probably isn't a good idea. I knew I'd hurt something – shooting pain travelled through my leg, welling at my ankle. Ah well, it'd heal in due time. I had to go say sorry to Itachi now.
Jumping into my car and starting up the engine, I sped off to his house, forever grateful that it was barely a block away. I stopped in his driveway, confused when I saw that there were no cars in the driveway, and all the lights in the house were off. He clearly wasn't home. Where would he have gone?
That little fucker.
My lungs were immediately filled with disgustingly smoky air when I stepped into the small concrete building. I'd somehow gotten past the bouncers, convincing them I was of age without an ID, and was now standing in the middle of the bar. Vile amounts of greyish cigarette smoke swirled in the hazy air, and the whole room reeked of beer and sweat. How could anyone possibly want to come here for a good time? In my opinion, the club just down the road was much nicer.
And it was fucking crowded. Thank god Itachi was so goddamn pale and tall, otherwise I probably would have never found him.
However, it didn't take long before I spotted him sitting at the bar, his legs straddling the barstool, his back hunched as he sat lazily with his arms on the wooden counter top. He fiddled with a five-dollar bill in his hands, idly blowing a stray strand of flaxen hair out of his face, not seeming to notice that the better half of the bar was gawking at him, utterly enthralled by his appearance. I can't say I blamed anyone. Despite the fact that he's a guy, Itachi has had his moments where it's just impossible not to envy his almost ethereal looks. I've always felt inferior next to him, with my raven hair and dull coal eyes. And while he can pull off the whole 'white as snow' skin color, I just look like a zombie.
Plus, while I'm tall, Itachi's tall and lean and fit. I'm just 6'0" and lanky and gangly and awkward and everything a sixteen-year-old guy, vampire or human, doesn't want to be.
How was I supposed to approach him without anyone noticing? Surely my skin was bright as fuck under the revolting fluorescent lights. Moving slowly and unsurely, I took a step forward, getting weird looks from guys and girls alike. Oh, this was too fun.
As soon as I got within three feet of Itachi, I figured it'd be a good time to talk. "Itachi… hey, Itachi, it's Sasuke."
Just having received his first beer, still unsipped, Itachi didn't seem too happy to have heard my voice. "I know it's you, Sasuke. I'm not the one who can't recognize my brother's voice," he griped, his tone biting and harsh as he brought up the phone conversation from yesterday. How did he even remember that?
"You were slurring," I protested, prompting him to get off of his stool and follow me out to my car. I didn't want to be having such a private conversation in such a public place. He was not exactly what you'd call happy with me – he hadn't even gotten a taste of his Yueng Ling Lager – and I didn't want to make a scene.
We climbed into my car, and I was thankful I'd parked in the abandoned back lot. We definitely wouldn't be interrupted here. "Itachi, I wanna talk to you."
He was silent, his arms crossed over his chest, his defined jaw clenched, and his liquid-rust eyes staring straight through the windshield.
"Itachi… please. I want to make things better."
"You don't always get what you want, Sasuke. I don't think just because you want me to talk to you is a good enough reason." His mocking tone was filled with spite as he mirrored what I'd said to him earlier.
I inhaled, my breath unsteady. I didn't know whether I was troubled or angry or on the verge of breaking down, but I knew the feelings welling up inside me weren't good ones. "Itachi, I only want to right my wrongs."
"Have fun with that."
Evidently he wasn't about to comply. I'd have to use everything to get him to willingly have a conversation with me. Leaning closer to him, I almost closed the space between us. "Itachi… come on. Please?"
"Manners don't always work, Sasuke."
Itachi was possibly the most stubborn bastard to walk the earth. I cursed softly, bracing myself as I closed the gap between us, crushing my lips hard against his. He struggled against me, trying his best to pull back, but a sudden wave of dark lust washed over me, and I wasn't about to let him get away. Pushing Itachi against the scratched up dashboard, I only continued kissing him, driving my tongue between his unwilling lips. I was kissing him far more intently than I'd originally planned, figuring he'd respond, but he didn't react at all.
"C'mon, Itachi, I know you want this," I whispered against the cool skin that was stretched over his collarbone, twirling my tongue over his ashen complexion. "You want it."
"N-no, Sasuke, I don't," he coughed, a hint of fear lacing his low voice.
"Mm… sure you don't," I retorted, pulling his torso up and jerking his shirt over his head, then letting his shoulders crash back down to the dashboard with a dull thud. I proceeded with lavishing moist kisses all over his body, though ultimately my lips found a crevice in his neck where I could feel his vampiric excuse for blood rushing through his veins. I pressed our bodies closer together, burying my face against his neck. I didn't know what the hell was going on with me, probably some fuck up with my hormones, but there was no stopping me now.
Planting a final kiss on the soft spot in the crevice near his jugular vein, I bit down gently, my fangs piercing his fragile skin and sinking in at least a centimetre or two. The taste of his sweet, sugary, inhuman blood in my mouth was startlingly orgasmic. I moaned, letting the cherry liquid dribble down my chin, and smeared more bloody kisses against his chest and abdomen, then roughly flipping him over so that his toned back faced me, his body bent over the dashboard.
"Sasuke… don't," he pleaded, choking back a sob.
It felt so good to have complete power over him. Did he really think I was going to stop here?
I stripped him of his pants and boxers, then hastily ridding myself of mine, and took a moment to observe his quaking body before anything else. He was clearly scared – an emotion he didn't commonly display. I tore my eyes from his face, realizing I wasn't entirely sure of how to go about this. I mean, I'd never fucked a guy before. Sure, I'd heard about it, but never experienced it first-hand. I knew that you were supposed to prepare more than you would with a girl… and use lube to lessen the initial pain, to make it easier to enter, all that fun shit… but I didn't care. I wouldn't be the one suffering.
"Fuck, Sasuke, p-please don't!" Itachi begged when he realized my objectives. He peered at me over his shoulder. I saw the fright dancing in his burning reddish eyes. I heard the panic in his voice. He couldn't escape, and he knew it.
And I liked it. I fucking ate it up.
"You said you wanted me," I breathed, having the final word before, without any warning, thrusting into him. Hard. Over and over, the pace increasing with each time. Judging by the ear-splitting cries of pain spilling constantly from his lips, this wasn't something he was enjoying.
"F-fuck, Sasuke! It hurts, y-you dirty son of a bitch!" Itachi sobbed, fumbling for something to hold onto as I penetrated his suddenly delicate body. I pinned his hands under him, thriving on his hysterical shouts. He wasn't helping the situation at all. His writhing body, wracked with violent sobs, only made me need this more. I raked my hands up and down his back, digging my nails into his ivory flesh until beads of ruby emerged, and I smudged the fresh, sticky blood all over his skin.
"I f-fucking hate you, Sasuke…" It was hard to believe those words belonged to Itachi – they were so weak and hopeless, not at all like the strong, lively Itachi I'd grown up with. "I hate you s-so much…"
Who would have ever thought that hearing someone else enduring such agony was such a fucking turn-on? I knew it wouldn't be much longer before we'd reach the point of climax.
"Ohh… oh god… fuck, just give it up, Itachi," I panted as my stomach muscles clenched tightly and heat burst inside my chest. "Fucking give it up."
Ripe ecstasy claimed my body in waves, and I had to keep myself from making too much noise as I lost all remaining control and exploded, coming into Itachi's frail body. My systems shut down for long enough for me to become as limp as a rag doll, falling forward onto Itachi and crushing him harder against the dashboard. Our chests heaved together, our breathing in sync, though I knew my gasps were from pleasure and his were results of his uncontrollable sobs.
Still regaining my senses, I couldn't fight back when Itachi pushed me off of him, my back hitting the seat. He clumsily hurried to re-dress and opened the car door, letting himself out. "Don't you FUCKING touch me ever again," Itachi demanded, tears streaming down his porcelain face. "G-get the fuck away and don't touch me! Go! Just fucking go!" He slammed the door shut and ran off into the darkness of the vacant parking lot, disappearing into the shadows.
What… what the fuck had I just done…
My entire body was jittering, cold sweat dripping down my temples and off my chin, my chest rising and falling all too quickly. With trembling hands I groped blindly for the door handle, scarcely managing to unlock the front entrance of my pathetic excuse for a house. I toppled through the door frame, falling to the floor in a pitiful heap, my stomach twisting into knots.
There was no running from it – I had just fucking raped my older brother.
What in god's name was wrong with me!? I was horrified with myself. I was a goddamn monster; a terror to humanity; a motherfucking felon, for fuck's sake!
I had gone to the bar with the intention to make things better between Itachi and myself, and instead I'd gone and, of all things, fucking forced him to have unwanted sex with me and made things so, so much worse.
Why the fuck did I just do that to him!? Up until that point, the thoughts of having sex with any guy, let alone Itachi, who I was related to hadn't even crossed my mind. Why then, when Itachi was so blatantly unwilling, had I decided to fuck around with a guy? Just… why?
So many questions were running through my head. Was Itachi okay? Would he ever talk to me again? Would he ever trust me again? My self-inquiries, mixed with insufferable doses of guilt and regret, were enough to make me literally sick to my stomach. I scaled the stairs with record speed and made it to the bathroom just in time to start vomiting, and I honestly wished I could just puke out all my remorse and indignity. I couldn't stop retching, throwing up until it was only foul, sour stomach acid coming up and burning my throat. I was absolutely appalled with myself.
Curling up into fetal position, I tipped over, my ribcage hitting the hard tiled floor. And for the first time in a very long while, I allowed myself to just let everything out and cry like a fucking baby. I honestly was useless; a disgrace to the entire vampire race, a disgrace to myself, and unquestionably a disgrace to my brother, Itachi.
"I don't know what happened, I really don't. I just… completely lost it. I couldn't control w-what I was doing. Fuck, I hardly even knew what was going on."
The following morning, I was sitting on the smooth shower floor, letting icy droplets of water pound against my bare skin, talking to myself like it would resolve everything. "Fucking hell, he's never going to forgive me… I don't know what got into me, I really, truly don't." I rubbed scarlet stains from my lips and fingers – Itachi's blood. My stomach lurched. I was a sick, cruel, selfish bastard.
"I think I should probably call him or something… I don't know about walking over to his house, that'd probably not too good of a plan. Shit, he's probably not even there. God knows where he is, that Itachi." Rinsing the remainder of the soapsuds from my hair, I turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and traipsing across the hall to my dark bedroom. I slipped into a slim-fit black tee and grey drainpipes, throwing on a white and black striped hoodie and my favorite torn-up fingerless gloves and finishing the outfit with the only shoes I owned – converse. After tousling my hair, brushing my teeth and freshening up in general, I was as ready as I'd ever be to face Itachi again.
I really hoped I wasn't rushing things; trying to make things okay too quickly.
I didn't know.
I just hoped to god everything would be all right… as irrational as that wish was.
Before I could even press the doorbell once, Itachi was already at the door, the black hood of his sweatshirt pulled down over his eyes so that all that was visible were stray strands of soft-looking charcoal hair and his perfectly shaped nose and lips. He gestured for me to come inside, and I was slightly surprised by his hospitality, especially considering the circumstances.
"Hey, Itachi," I started, my eyes falling to my beat-up shoes. "Look… I'm so fucking sorry, I really am…"
Itachi was biting at his silver lipring, pulling his sleeves down so that they covered most of his hands. "Sasuke… I… I don't know what to think of you anymore. Days ago you were the brother anyone could ask for, and now… you're… you're… I don't even know what."
His quiet words hit me with the force of a freight train, causing me more pain than I was prepared for. I hadn't thought the levels of guilt I was experiencing could have heightened any more, but I was proven wrong. Stinging tears pricked at the backs of my eyes, my lips curling into a frown.
"Itachi… I'm so, so fucking sorry. I honestly don't even know how to tell you. I… I'm so, so s-sorry," I stammered, refusing to look even in Itachi's direction. "Are… are you okay?"
"Oh yeah, just great, Sasuke! I'm juuust great. Apart from the bruises and cuts and moon-shaped scrapes that are from your goddamn fingernails… oh, and these fucking gouges on my neck… and the fact that I can hardly fucking sit down… I'm doing wonderfully, really," he replied, sarcasm and anger dripping from his voice. "Of course I'm not okay, motherfucker! Everything hurts… so fucking bad… it all hurts, my god…"
A single tear trickled down my cheek. I was feeling increasingly worse by the second. "Itachi… I'm so sorry, I really am. I wish… I wish it had never happened, any of it, from the moment after you kissed me. I'm a horrible brother, aren't I?"
Itachi didn't say a word.
Sometimes, though, silence hurt more than words.
"Look, Itachi, I know I can't fix it, okay? And it kills me to know that, it really does. I'd do anything to make it better, I really, really would. I'm so fucking sorry, Itachi, so f-fucking sorry…" I wanted so badly for him to understand that I'd never hurt him again, that I hated myself for doing this to him, that I only wanted to be brothers again. I took a moment to gain my composure, and then forced myself to look into his striking eyes. "Itachi… please… I… I can't tell you enough how much I want things to be back to normal between us. I miss you, Itachi. I miss having my big brother. And I'm so, so, so sorry for everything."
Itachi's fang hooked on his lipring, his purplish eyelids half-closing over his shimmering copper eyes as he tugged his hood off of his head. "Sasuke…"
"Sasuke… I…" He was obviously struggling for words, chewing at his bottom lip, his eyes darting about the room beforethey settled on my face. "I guess I can't lie… I've missed you too, a lot, really, even after... everything. And… I… I forgive you." His gaze dropped back to the floor, and he anxiously fiddled with a fraying string on his long sleeve.
I couldn't help the huge grin that spread onto my lips. I didn't know why the fuck Itachi was such a tolerant person, but I was so grateful. I mean, if I were him, I would have never forgiven someone who'd been an absolute asshole to me so easily, and with such selflessness at that. "Thanks, man," I said, wishing he'd look into my eyes. "Itachi… seriously, thank you. You're… you're honestly too good to me.
"Yeah… you're usually alright yourself, Sasuke." He lifted his head, eyes swirling in the dusty sunlight that filtered through his blinds, a lopsided smile on his lips. "And you have no idea how fuckin' adorable you are when you're all vulnerable and appreciative like this."
I laughed lightly. I really had missed this. Itachi always managed to lighten the mood, even in the darkest of times.
"Are you suggesting something?" I wondered out loud, poking fun at him.
"Perhaps." His eyes glinted mischievously, and he sat down on the edge of the short little coffee table in the middle of the room. "Not that you'd oblige or anything, though."
He was right; I wasn't about to do anything with him or to him at the moment. Knowing that he wanted more from me than current relationship made things a little different than before, but then again, considering the past events, our relationship wouldn't have been the same anyway. Then there was the fact that I didn't have romantic views of him…
My brother cleared his throat, gesturing towards the Xbox-360. "I think it's time for some Bioshock… what do ya say?"
I nodded vigorously. "Hell yes."
After beating the shit out of countless Big Daddies and Little Sisters and other Bioshock creatures for hours on end, Itachi and I threw our controllers down, flopping back onto the plush off-white carpet. It was quiet for a long time until Itachi's smooth voice shattered the veil of silence. "Dude, Sasuke… I'm scared."
I furrowed my brows, propping myself up on my elbows and glancing down at my fair-haired companion. "Scared? About what, Itachi?"
He faltered for a moment before responding, toying uneasily with the zipper on his hoodie. "It's just… I think I have something wrong with me."
"Goddamnit, Itachi, you need to be more straightforward here. Just fess up, I'm not gonna hurt you…" With the ending words of my sentence, I realized the reason Itachi was being apprehensive was because he didn't fully trust me again yet. A pang of self-reproach surged through me, and I frowned slightly.
"There's something wrong with me," he echoed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. "There's gotta be. I don't know what it is, but there is. God knows you're not supposed to be able to feel so strongly for a person."
I swallowed, trying hard not assume anything. I didn't know what to say. "Oh…?"
"Fuck, Sasuke. I'm so confused about my feelings." Itachi rolled onto his side, facing me. "I've never felt like this about anyone before, and it's freaking me out."
"Well… describe how you feel to me. Maybe I can help sort things out." Great, so now I was playing the fucked-up crazy psychiatrist.
"It's just… whenever I see this one person, I feel happier than I ever imagined possible. If I'm without them, I feel like I won't be able to get through the day. Their crooked grin makes me feel ridiculously good. I have dreams about them in the rare moments that I sleep, I imagine being able to call them mine… I think they are, without a single doubt, the most beautiful thing on the planet. Hell, I've masturbated to an old picture of them before, more than once," he snorted, blushing slightly. "I care way more about them than what should be allowed. I feel so strongly for them. I just… I don't know what it is. It's the weirdest thing."
"Sounds like love to me," I said warily.
"Love… yeah, I think that must be it. God, how disgustingly sappy was that whole fuckin' spiel just now…" Itachi turned onto his back again, folding his hands on his stomach. "But yeah… it sure is a funny feeling to love someone, if that's what this is."
I wouldn't know. "I bet," I mused.
Itachi was unusually quiet for the next ten minutes, and I wasn't about to interrupt the stillness until my curiosity got the best of me.
"Itachi, who's the person?"
Itachi eyed me unsurely. Dread was slowly gathering in the pit of my stomach, and I regretted asking. Just from the look on his face, I almost didn't want to know what his answer would be… shit. I had a good guess, but I really, really, really hoped I was wrong.
"Just tell me, Itachi, c'mon. It won't change anything."
"But that's the thing, Sasuke, it will cha-"
"Itachi! Just say it! Who's the person?!"
"I don't wanna-"
"Tell me, goddamnit!"
"Itachi! Come on!"
Fuck, fuck fuck fuck!
What was I supposed to say, honestly? That I loved him back? Because I didn't, not in the same ways he loved me. Sure, I sometimes thought he was sexy; sexy as fuck, honestly. Sure, his charming smile could melt me until I did as he asked. Sure, I sometimes found myself thinking about him at times when I really, really shouldn't. Sure, I felt pretty much lost without him. But that didn't mean I loved him… right?
Thank god Itachi's grumbling stomach intervened. He laughed, the almost-melodious sound warm and rich. "I'm gonna die if I don't eat soon. Wanna grab a quick snack? I just snagged some fresh blood from the blood bank the other night. It's type O, nothing special, but it was a nice crisp crimson, so it'll probably be above average."
I nodded swiftly, perhaps a bit too swiftly. "Yeah, sounds awesome. Here, I'll go get it. It's in the fridge, yeah?"
"Mhmm. I'll just... wait here then I guess," Itachi chuckled, stretching out so that his long limbs were sprawled every which way as he lay on the floor. "Thanks for getting it."
"No problem," I said automatically, practically bounding into the kitchen. In this weird state that I found myself in, I was slow as hell as I reached for the fridge and poured two glasses of the sweet reddish-black liquid. It was while I was beginning to put the remaining quart of blood back in the refrigerator when a loud "fuck!" came from the living room. Damnit, what'd he done now?
Rushing to put everything back, I grabbed the glass cups and ventured cautiously into the connecting room, only to find Itachi sitting up, hunched over and staring at his finger. A thin line of his blood was tracing along the bones of his hands, running over his knuckles and trickling to his wrist. "Fuck, Itachi. What'd you do."
Itachi met me with big puppy-dog eyes. "I just found my Swiss army knife under the table and I wanted to make sure it was still as sharp as before."
God, sometimes Itachi had these rare moments where I wondered how he could possibly be so dimwitted.
"Christ,Itachi, who would've used it enough to dull the blade?"
He shrugged. "I guess I didn't quite consider that," he snorted, watching in pure fascination as his own blood dripped down his arm. It was hard to believe so much thick blood was coming from the smallest little slit in his fingertip.
"…Well? Aren't you gonna clean it so we can have our little snack?" I eyed the crimson stream of liquid as well, subconsciously licking my lips. Despite the lingering guilt about it, I hadn't forgotten how good his blood had tasted – the perfect mix of sugary and bitter… god, it was honestly intoxicatingly arousing. The sheer recollection of it got me a little hotter than usual.
"I'm too lazy to get off my ass and wash my hands," Itachi huffed.
"I take that as a no, then? We're just not gonna have our snack?"
Itachi's lips suddenly twisted into a sly, roguish grin. "I know a way to clean it without even having to move anywhere." He flashed me an evocative little glimpse, his eyes dark.
I sneered, rolling my eyes Itachi turned everything into something sexual, whether it was on purpose or not. "And what would that involve? Me like… licking it off or something?" Christ, I hoped to god my joke wouldn't give him any ideas. I surely wouldn't be able to handle the taste of his blood again.
Itachi smirked even more, his eyes sparkling. "My, my, Sasuke… you're an awfully good guesser." He peered at me through half-lidded eyes, his full lips perking into a lopsided smile. Fuck, it was unfair how he could just turn on the whole 'seductive' factor just by altering his facial expression the tiniest bit. I had to give it to him – he knew how to get me, that was for sure.
"Shit, Itachi, you really think I'm gonna lick blood offa your finger? The thought of it is just not appealing at all to me." I was such a fuckin' liar. It was one of the sexiest things I'd ever heard.
"C'mon, Sasuke… it's not like I'm asking you to suck my dick or something. Just my finger," he snickered. "Come on... please? Just this once?"
Itachi had gone from a state of not wanting any physical contact whatsoever to begging me to clean off his finger with my goddamn tongue.
Jesus Christ, he was desperate.
…I guess that's what compelled me to fulfill his request.
Grabbing his hand and yanking it to my lips, I slowly slid my tongue out of my mouth, meeting his bloodstained pearly skin. An automatic shudder wracked my body as I savored the taste of it – I swear to god, it was the most fuckin' orgasmic thing in the world. The taste was just overwhelming. I exhaled against his finger, letting my eyelids fall shut as heat began worming its way to the pit of my stomach. Just as I realized I wasn't the only one nearly getting off because of this – Itachi's soft moans nearly matched mine – I remembered that I shouldn't be enjoying myself in the first place. I was supposed to be repulsed by this, not indulged.
Tugging away from Itachi, I blushed profusely, then announcing that I had to leave. Itachi nodded understandingly, but not before stealing a sneaky glance at the crotch of my pants. He knew my secret.
So I went home.
Hand between legs; pump up, down, up, down; faster, oh god; faster, faster, faster, fuck yes… Breathing's rough, erratic, loud; an occasional groan of pleasure slips out here or there as time passes and the pace picks up with urgency. Ohh, god… I'd forgotten how good this felt. "F-fuck… " My hips jerked up, and a small, muffled noise left my lips.
Faster, harder… God, I'd needed this. I pumped more quickly, increasing friction and heat, knowing I was nearing the end of this pleasurable little session. Finally the warmth I'd been anticipating spilled over my fingers, my body tensing and then shutting down, a long, sharp moan drawn from deep in my chest. "G-God… Itachi…!"
Slumping back against the mahogany wall of my bedroom, I struggled to regain my breath, just about calmed when –
Had I just called out Itachi's name?
Shit, there was no way I could really deny it any longer. Usually when I masturbated I didn't really say anyone's name… more just incoherent strings of mumbles and curses. What the fuck was going on now, eh?
My big brother's name had just so happened to slip out?
I could blame it on the fact that the whole reason I even had to touch myself in the first place was because of his blood, but then I'd be lying. I had feelings for him; there was no doubt about that. Whether it was just lust, or some sort of deeper, more developed and meaningful form of love, I wasn't certain, but I sure as hell wasn't about to tell him or anyone else until I had it all sorted out.
It was too fucking weird.
With the realization that my fingers were more than a bit sticky and my boxers needed to be changed, I decided it'd probably be a fucking good idea to take a shower. So I trudged through the door and around the corner to the bathroom, stripping off my sweaty clothes and stepping under the highly welcomed frigid blast of water.
As I let the cool liquid pour over my skin, trickling through the cracks between my fingers, seeming to melt into my hair, my eyelids began to feel as though they were weighted down, and I wasn't about to stop them from closing.
Eyes the color of a summer sunset, hands as experienced and strong as anything-
Oh god no… not again, not now…
"Mmmn, oh fuck, oh god you're too good at this-"
My heart was racing. As was my blood. To one of my lower extremities.
Skilled lips trailed frozen kisses along my collarbone, with an additional flick of a warm tongue here or there-
Dear GOD why did my eyes refuse to open. And why were these images polluting my newly calmed mind.
Moaning, cursing, nails scraping across my inner thigh-
I was surprised to find how good I was at soaping up a certain body part even with my eyes closed.
Very good. Too good.
"Fuck, don't stop-"Ragged breaths spilled out from both of us, the friction between our bodies increasing by the millisecond-
It seemed as though I was subconsciously willing to supply sound effects to the vivid erotic fantasy that currently possessed my thoughts as a strained whimper escaped my lips.
Bony hips ground intently against my own, fingernails digging into the pale skin stretched over my shoulder blades, one hand slipping down to brush against the lowest vertebrae of my backbone-
I involuntarily made a noise that eerily resembled one from my twisted daydream, and I bucked my hips, feeling a hot liquid spurt against my palm, its temperature contrasting with the seemingly artic shower water. My legs grew weak and I leaned against the tiled shower wall for support, trying to regulate my breathing and come back to my senses.
"Goddamnit," I swore once I realized what I'd just done. Muttering under my breath, I straightened myself, rinsing my hands under the cold water streaming from the showerhead and tried to pretend like I hadn't just jerked off – again – the second time in a matter of moments – while undeniably fantasizing about Itachi.
Jesus Christ. I honestly needed to get a grip.
After spending an additional nice long hour in the shower trying to cleanse myself of any Itachi-related thoughts, dirty or not, I stepped out of the tub, glancing at myself in the mirror that hung on the opposite wall.
My dark hair was plastered to my face from the water, my skin looked more ghastly than it ever had before, and the dark, muddy circles under my eyes could have easily had me mistaken for a completely wasted stoner. Looking at my body, I came to realize how awkward my proportions were. I was fuckin' gangly… ribs poking out, collarbone all too visible, and a complete lack of any abdominal muscles. I was just skinny – not in shape.
Not worth Itachi's time, that was for sure. I honestly wondered what made me, Sasuke, attractive to such an inhumanly beautiful guy like him.
"Come on, tell me… you make this all go away, you make this all go away. I'm down to just one thing-"
A vibration in my pocket interrupted my little Nine Inch Nails sing-a-long. I paused the song, yanking the iPod earphone from my ear, and pulled my pulsating cell phone from my pocket. Without bothering to see who was calling, I picked up. "What?"
"What? That's a pleasant greeting," a low, sarcastic voice returned, bringing me to attention. I nearly leapt up from my comfortable position on the arm of the couch at the mere sound of him.
Good god. I needed to chill.
"Yeah, you know I tend to sugar-coat things for you," I snorted, my eyes fixated on a strand of ebony hair that hung in front of my face. "But yeah. What do you want?"
Itachi chuckled. "I dunno. I've been thinking about you."
"Oh?" I've been… thinking… about you, too. A lot. Oh, and completely naked, at that. And on top of me. Moaning.
Silence ensued, and after a while, I figured it was my turn to say something. "And…?"
I could almost hear the kid shrugging. "Dunno."
"Okay then." I began counting how many cracks I could find on the dull olive paint that barely covered the walls. "Thanks for calling?"
A peculiar sound came from the other end of the line – something between a frustrated groan and a suggestive sigh – I preferred the latter – and then Itachi said, "Yeah." And hung up.
It was bizarre, to say the least.
Un-pausing my song, I continued quietly following along, not even fully noticing how suiting the lyrics were for the current situation. "I'm starting to scare myself…. You make this all go away; you make it all go away… I just want something… I just want something I can never have.
By the next night, I was secretly hoping that it wasn't too strange of me to just suddenly be overcome by the desire to gorge myself with blood. Gallons upon gallons of the crisp red liquid, spilling down my throat and dripping down my arms in sticky scarlet rivulets. There was nothing I wanted more than fresh, sweet, type O blood.
And I knew just where to get it.
I considered calling Itachi, but then I decided I'd just show up at his door dying of thirst – a pleasant surprise, essentially, or at least I hoped. Throwing on a half-shredded black hoodie, I treaded outside, climbing into my car and speeding to Itachi's house.
The place looked different today – I didn't know quite what it was, whether it was the strange orange glow that the sunset was giving off or the fact that his front porch swing was moving back and forth as though someone had just been on it – but something about his house was changed. It was in a good way, though. As I made my way up the front steps, I decided that it was the mood the place seemed to emanate.
There was a vibe about the house that hadn't been there before… something rich, warm, inviting… sensuous, almost. I'd like to say it weirded me out, but in all honesty I found it rather enticing.
I let myself inside, knowing Itachi would probably be somewhere close by.
I stepped into the living room, and there he was, draped on his couch, simply lounging and managing to look insanely graceful. He was clad in only a dark olive military-style jacket, dark grey jeans that looked like they'd been painted on, and scuffed-up, unlaced combat boots. His chest was bare under his coat, his muscles as perfect as ever. One hand was splayed precariously on his lower stomach while the other was behind his head, acting as a pillow. Down to each sweeping strand of charcoal black hair and the way he was biting at his silver lipring, Itachi was just fucking sexy.
There was really no other way to put it.
"Hey… thanks for telling me you were coming," Itachi muttered, a half-smile dancing on his lips. "This is rather unexpected."
"Yeah… I was thinking about how we met yesterday night, then this morning I woke up with the hankering for blood… and at this point, at 7 pm, I figured I should probably drink some." I returned the grin and sunk into the grey armchair that opposed the sofa.
"Oh, is that so?" he teased, sitting up slightly.
I nodded, trying extremely hard not to gawk at the way his stomach muscles rippled with his every move. "T-that would be the case," I stammered awkwardly, forcing myself to look away.
"I guess it makes sense, considering that we never did get to have our snack yesterday. You were outta here in a flash, dude."
It was useless trying to pretend that I wasn't embarrassed at all. "Yeah… sorry about that," I croaked, practically able to feel the blush that was creeping into my cheeks.
Itachi laughed, almost inaudibly. "Don't worry about it, Sasuke. We all have our… problems… to take care of, sometimes at short notice."
He so knew.
And Christ, he said it as though I'd forgotten. "Yeah, I know." I fidgeted restlessly with the tattered hem of my left sleeve, refusing to look back up at Itachi. "So is that snack still up for grabs, or is the deal closed?"
"Aw, c'mon, Sasuke. 'Course you're still welcome to a snack," he crooned, an amused smirk on his face.
I started off to the kitchen, only stopping when Itachi added, "And while you're at it, would you mind grabbing me a cup, too? The rigorous activities that have gone on today have left me awfully thirsty." He raised an eyebrow, and I wondered if he was implying something. He probably was, that dirty whore.
"Yeah… but don't go testing the sharpness of any knives, now," I joked, silently thinking about what he meant by 'rigorous activities' as I lumbered into the kitchen, plowing through the fridge, and pouring two glasses of the dark cherry substance.
I put the glass jar that contained the remaining blood back in the fridge and carried the two glasses back out into the dimly lit living room, hastily handing one to Itachi before dropping back down into the slate coloured lounge chair. "So uhh… how've you been today?" I took a long sip of my drink, relishing its succulent flavour, though it was nowhere near as satisfying as the taste of Itachi's blood.
"Good I guess," Itachi coughed, setting his beverage down and rubbing his eyes. "I'm a little tired right now though."
Well that was something I didn't expect from Itachi. The kid rarely slept a blink – unless he was drunk, but that's an entirely different case in itself. "Tired? You okay?" I sounded more worried than I'd anticipated. Shit. I tended to take on the anxious parent role whenever Itachi was feeling sub-par. He probably found it horribly irritating.
Ironic seeing as he is the older brother and I'm the younger.
"Yeah, yeah, Sasuke. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Just a little sleepy."
"Why?" I demanded. Fucking Christ. Tone down the concern.
Itachi shrugged. "Busy day, I guess." He guzzled down half of his glass in a single gulp. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth, glittering in the fading sunlight that leaked through the window. I stifled a laugh. He could be so obnoxious sometimes.
I finished off my own drink as well, feeling warm and replenished. "Busy, eh? That's unusual for a night dweller such as you."
Itachi shrugged, wiping his mouth. "Well, busy being the operative word, I s'pose."
"And by that you mean…?"
"Goddamn you, Sasuke. You know what I mean." He flashed me that 'you goddamn better well know what I mean' kind of glance… and it really didn't take long to register as to what exactly he meant.
I sneered. "Christ, Itachi, you horny bastard. Jerking off left and right, are we?" I pretended to be disgusted, but I frankly wasn't one to be talking, bearing in mind my own 'busy day' yesterday.
"That'd be the case."
"Adorable." I wondered surreptitiously if Itachi and I were the only dudes who talked openly about molesting ourselves. For some reason, I doubted it. "…That's a nice jacket on you."
Itachi grinned cheekily. "You like it? Don't I look sexy?"
"Oh yeah. Traffic-stopping," I told him mordantly, acting as if I didn't whole-heartedly agree with him. In all honesty I really couldn't stop staring at him.
"I wore it for you," he snickered.
I couldn't really distinguish as to whether he was kidding or not.
"Did you?" For the first time that night, I actually meant what I was asking.
He nodded, standing up from the couch and brushing off his jeans despite the fact that they were already spotless and pristine. "I did."
Itachi was advancing towards the chair I was residing in, his charcoal-smeared eyes glinting with mischief. The smile he wore didn't tell of anything good. Or naïve, for that matter.
"What… are you doing?" I proposed, sitting up rigidly in my seat. I was suddenly all too aware of the circumstances. I toyed restlessly with the empty cup in my hands, running my pointer finger along the crystal rim. "Itachi?"
He was suddenly in front of me, almost on top of me, holding a finger against my frozen lips. "Shhh… patience is a virtue, Sasuke."
I swallowed nervously, gazing up at Itachi with what I'm sure was an unsure expression on my face.
"B-but… what are you doing?"
Apparently words weren't enough to supply a suitable reply.
I was overwhelmed by the sensation of Itachi's lips pressed against mine, tasting, sucking, suffocating me – it was almost too much to handle. I guess he wasn't worn out anymore. And between his delicious taste and skillful kissing tactics, I wasn't entirely sure as to how to take everything in. Jolts of heat spurred through my system as I felt Itachi tangling his fingers in dark locks of my hair, forcing my lips harder against his. I moaned into his mouth, longing desperately to completely attack him. But I was supposed to be the uninterested one here, and Itachi knew just what he was doing, so I left the attacking to him.
Itachi pressed his icy knuckles into the curve of my jaw while he climbed up onto my lap to straddle my hips, his torso crushing against mine as we continued kissing rather fervently in the armchair. Lazily running his tongue across my lips, Itachi slipped his strong hands around my waist, teasingly playing with the buckle of my belt. It felt like an eternity before he finally tugged away, our chests heaving as we forced oxygen back into our lungs.
"You didn't seem to mind this time around," he panted, laughing, coal hair hanging in his face as he rested his forehead against mine and gazed straight into my eyes.
I returned the leer. "Yeah… I don't mind anymore," I admitted, loving the way the rough material of his jacket and the contrasting smooth skin of his chest felt against my fingertips while I idly explored his upper body with my hands. "I don't mind at all."
"You sayin' that you like me?" Itachi's smile broadened. "Like… like me?"
Goddamnit! Why couldn't I just say it?! It was more agonizing to keep my feelings a secret than it was to just blurt it out, yet I couldn't bring myself to do it.
"Hmm," Itachi mumbled, his eyebrows knitting together. "I'm sure you'll know for certain by the end of tonight."
My breath caught in my throat at Itachi's rather evocative words. I wanted to have a witty comeback for him but words ceased to come out.
And before I could do anything about it, Itachi was dragging me up the stairs, his hand gripping my wrist tightly as though if he were to let go I'd run away and never come back. I almost tripped as we plodded noisily upwards, going around and around and around in a spiral until we reached the second story.
"Do you… want… to do this?" Itachi's voice was low and husky as he urged me towards his bedroom door. My head was spinning; my heart was racing… I couldn't really tell if I felt excited or nauseous. I think it was kind of a mix of both.
Because now that Itachi was actually shoving me into his room and backing me up so that I was just about to fall onto his mattress, I wasn't totally sure of what to do. Did I really want to do this? Did I want to risk our brotherly relationship just so we could both get off and enjoy ourselves for a limited period of time?
…The answer was determined as soon as Itachi's soft lips were buried in the crook of my neck, nibbling and kissing at my collarbone. "Fuck, Itachi," I breathed, tearing his jacket off of him and beginning to work on his belt.
"Nnh… Sasuke, you don't have to do this, you know," the raven haired boy whispered hesitantly against my skin, giving me the honest option. I knew that he would never push me any farther than what I allowed, and I really appreciated that fact, especially when taking into account what I'd done to him not too long ago.
"But… but I want to," I finally managed, greedily forcing my body closer to Itachi. "I really want to."
With that, Itachi pushed me down onto the mattress, an 'oof' coming from the both of us as we hit the bed together. After a moment of readjusting our positions to better suit the soft surface, Itachi was ripping off his clothes with less effort and more swiftness than any stripper I'd ever seen. "Sasuke… you have no idea how badly I need this."
Glancing at the crotch of his pants, I think I had a pretty fair idea. "You're hot," I grinned, shivering at the sound of clanking belt buckles and metallic zipper teeth being forced apart. Soon we were both free of any restrictive garments and bathed in the veil of darkness that seemed to hang in Itachi's room. Even in the shadows, though, I could still make out his striking features and perfect figure. "Really hot."
"Christ, look who's talking," Itachi exhaled, giving me the once-over before completely smothering me in hot, wet, frantic kisses. He dragged his swollen lips from the base of my neck all the way down to where my thigh met my hip, and I just about died on the spot.
Bucking my hips against his touch, I shamelessly begged for Itachi to do something, anything to relieve the aching heat that was building up in my body.
"It's only been a few minutes, Sasuke… you want it to end so quickly?" He twirled his cool tongue on the space right below my navel.
God, he was merciless. "I feel like I'm gonna explode," I said raspily, squirming under Itachi's body as he hovered above me.
"…Already?" Itachi's lips moved slowly, sensuously against my hipbone, sending shudders down my spine. His fingers tickled their way up my leg, painted black nails scraping against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I held back about five different noises that threatened to escape my lips, tangling my fingers in his mop of ashy hair. God, he knew what he was doing.
"Yes, already, you asshole. You turn me on to no end." I was past the point of being all pleading and submissive. I just wanted him. Craved him. Needed him.
"Want me to blow you?"
Itachi sat up, his reddish eyes swirling with confusion. "No?"
"No," I repeated. "Must I repeat it again? No. I don't want you to blow me. I can get anyone to blow me. It's not my cup of tea, actually. Not that fun."
Itachi shrugged, bending back down to lick glistening trails along my ribcage. He sunk his teeth into my skin and bit lightly down my side, over and over, harder each time, surely leaving a nice trail of bite marks stretching from my chest to my waist. Oh, god, it felt so unbelievably good. He only paused to propose another question.
"Then what can I do you for you, my friend?"
"Don't say it – oh, fuck– that way, you sound – mmnh – like a whore at the club," I said, not even really knowing what was exiting my mouth at this point. Without warning I felt Itachi slide a finger into me, then two, gently readying me for what was undoubtedly to come. I cringed slightly at first, but it didn't take long to get accustomed to the feel… and – oh dear Jesus - whatever the hell Itachi was doing to me now was insanely distracting. I dug my fingernails into his shoulder blades, hoping I'd draw blood for my own sadistic purposes. "I want you."
Glancing up at me through long, fringed lashes, Itachi grinned lopsidedly, straightening himself until I could feel his cool, coppery breath against my cheekbone. "Well, in that case… can we fuck?"
"Oh… god… yeah." I shifted beneath Itachi, letting him take over again. He pushed my knees up against my chest, motioning for me to stay still while he spit on his hand and slicked it down his length.
Was I? "Yeah…"
He pushed into me slowly, the look on his face one of pure pleasure and concentration. I groaned, and so did he, but my sound wasn't exactly one of bliss, because fucking hell I hadn't thought it'd hurt this much. Let me just say, no shit as to why God made boys to go with girls. I bit down on my lip until surely it would bleed, my fangs piercing through the chapped reddish skin. "Itachi-" I sputtered, my eyes stinging and my throat burning.
"Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?" As considerate as his inquiries were, he surely didn't sound as though he had the intentions of putting any halt to his actions. "It'll get better," he promised, his voice strained.
"Fuck no, don't stop," I replied almost immediately, feeling my nails puncture through Itachi's ivory skin. "Please don't stop."
Dutifully obeying my requests, Itachi started a rhythmic motion, ramming in and out, grasping my waist until his knuckles were whiter than before. Our hips ground together in a sinful, lusty manner, drawing loud moans from deep within Itachi's chest. With each thrust, the initial burning pain faded, and motherfucker did it feel amazing. Mother of god.
I arched my back and threw my head back against the mattress, gripping the bedcovers under me.
"Jesus Christ, Itachi-"
"Say my name like that one more time and I'll-"
Itachi plunged deeper into me, hitting the spot I'd been waiting for him to find. I moaned sharply, jerking my hips brashly, totally eating up all body contact I had with him. God, nothing should be allowed to feel so fucking good. "Oh, fuck, fuck – shit, Itachi!"
"Sexy fucker," he growled, clenching his jaw as he pounded into me again, and again, and again, hitting the spot every single fucking time, provoking a series of helpless sounds to pour from me. Itachi leaned down to kiss me, still keeping to the rhythm of his thrusts, until he came into me, white heat exploding from his groin and filling me completely. My release followed immediately, sending me into a climax of blinding heat and emotion before I blacked out momentarily. Itachi groaned into my mouth, collapsing on top of me, and our breathing was perfectly synchronized as we slowly faded out of our post-orgasm state and waited to come back to the harsh reality of the real world.
As soon as I was able to form a coherent sentence again, I rolled onto my side, wrapped in Itachi's arms, and said, "I love you."
And he beamed. Fucking beamed.
It was a smile more genuine, more beautiful, more heartfelt than any I'd ever seen. Fangs and all.
"I love you too," Itachi murmured, pulling me against his sweaty chest in a tight embrace.
We were closer together than what should be allowed, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle.
And it was perfect. Just perfect.
No comment. Seriously.
There will not be a sequel to this oneshot, I decided that when I first started writing... unless someone wants to continue this, please be my guest!, I don't mind at all, I'd like to be given some credit though and it would be great if you could tell me, I'd so read it.
Excuse all the swearing, it just went along with the story and yes, Sasuke was masterbating in that scene after the finger licking thing, just so you know. Lol..
Also, excuse the lemon. I'm not a guy, so I'm not familiar with gay sex, I had to ask some of my guy friends for some of that information, actually... and it was extremely embarresing... believe me.. they were like 'wtf, why do you want to know how to have gay guy sex?'
I didn't know who to make the seme and who the uke.. so I mixed it XD.
And yes, for once I decided for a sappy ending, I couldn't help it, really.
PinkNeonSocks: You should so write some gay emo porn.
PinkNeonSocks: So I can read it, duh.
Veroxion: ... why can't you write it?
PinkNeonSocks: Because I suck at writing gay porn and you're good at it.
Veroxion: No, I'm not... and besides, I can't be bothered thinking up characters.
PinkNeonSocks: Use Sasuke and Itachi then.
Veroxion:... WHY THE FUCK WOULD I WANT ITACHI TO BE GAY WITH HIS OWN BROTHER?!
PinkNeonSocks: ..because its hot?
Veroxion: Good point.
LOL. Random MSN conversation we had a few days ago, as you can see I ended up writing it.