A/N: Ooh, another story. Hmm, it appears I've completely surrendered to yaoi since anyone last knew insert chorus to Addicted by Saving Abel Anyway, I've got my most taboo fic in-process, which you are about to read.

Warning: Seeing as you have clicked the link of your own volition, I do not expect flames on any one of these topics: the fact that this fanfiction IS Itachi/Sasuke, the fact that they are brothers, the fact of a homosexual relationship existing (anywhere and wherever I want it to), or any other factor that the typical yaoi-flamer would jump at. I would like to formally point out, if you are a yaoi-flamer, please take careful note of the word to the right of 'yaoi' and that I'm applying it to you. Why, because you are the person begging not to be noticed for what you are by covering it up with bogus reviews. I would like to point out as well, the BACK button, if--by accident--you clicked the wrong link. My dear yaoi-flamers, this button is to be used by you as well because I do not wish to hear from you.
Straying from the above rant (as in, you don't belong to the above category and actually want to continue reading), I would also like to remind everyone that this is a MATURE fiction. If you believe you cannot handle this story with grace, I must implore you to hit the back button.
I'm quite sure, however, that most of you are basically saying, "Enough already! Get to the damn story!" So here you go.



(As in, anything in italics for more than four to ten consecutive words.)

Disclaimer: I do not own, therefore I create fanfiction.

My, My Sasuke

By: Apherion

Chapter 1

This was such a cheap imitation.

My hands could never compete with his, but this was all I had. I had to make do.

Everything, the will to hate, the drive to live, and the need all disappeared in a haze of obsidian and crimson. I had been left on the ground, panting, trying to recover from my most recent near-death experience, battling to remain conscious, but that couldn't be helped. I had woken up in the hospital three days later in disappointment.

I was alone now, deep within my room, my hands under the sheets. My waist was deliberately covered by the comforter. I arched into my touch, feeling so…greedy tonight. I was trying to remember how he touched me so long ago. How many years since…? Ten, I decided, as I tried in vain to recreate how his hands had felt on my innocent skin.

Thank God I was allowed to come home from the hospital tonight—or I'd have an uninvited audience. I was held in that place for far too long, even though it had been only a few days. It was sheer torture as I fought with my unquenchable thirst for his hands; my sick, twisted insatiable need.

God this felt good!

And I was feeling greedy.

I wanted ecstasy before envisioning those hands that would tease me before release, or just leave me hanging if the owner wanted to. My hands were attached to my body—my greedy body—and I couldn't stop myself. I never could.

When that realization hit, I rode out my self-induced orgasm half-heartedly, no longer into it. Why, why did it always have to end like this? Why couldn't I touch myself like he touched me? I felt the prick of tears, and I threw my pillow to the floor. I kicked my sheets off of the bed to remind me to wash them in the morning. I walked over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer, empty save for one item: a blanket.

It was the only thing that I kept from my old home, because it smelled like him. The blanket that Mama made for him when he was younger, before I was born, was what he would wrap us in when I ran into his room with a nightmare at the front of my mind. The blanket was my escape—the exact interpretation of his arms enveloping me.

I wrapped the midnight quilt around my slender form and knelt to the floor. My hands braced against my knees and I felt my shoulders shaking. The tears came for me, washing over my visage. My stomach churned uncomfortably, excessively. The feeling caused me to choke, and I whispered the name of the one I longed for.

I felt abandoned, and the warmth that came from the blanket was nonexistent. The oddity startled me, and I brought the quilt to my face, inhaling a scent that could only be described as mine. I released my hold on the blanket, letting it drop to the floor.

I was overcome by my hunger, and I was dressing before I had made sense of it. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders like a cloak. I was halfway to the Uchiha District—uninhabited and depressing in the middle of the night; lonely—before I noticed where my feet had led me. My reverie broken, I could clearly see why I was going back.

I needed something of his, even if it meant curling up in the dusty, old room that he had forsaken.

The blood had dried on the floorboards and on the walls, but the scent—like the blanket's—was gone. My feet kicked up dust as I padded down the desolate hallway in my socks. I passed by the kitchen, remembering the exact way to our old bedrooms.

Once I had passed the living room, I took a left down the long corridor to the east wing of the mansion. Mama and Papa stayed in the west wing of the house so we couldn't disturb them at night.

At the end of the hallway were three doors, two on the left and one on the right. My room, the bathroom, and his room; I approached the door that stood between my goal and me. The wood protested as it was bothered by my hands, and once it was open, I staggered back.

I was so excited to hear my brother was back, I ran all the way home from school. I was in such a hurry; I had forgotten to take off my shoes. I didn't hear Mama's 'Welcome home'. I must have left my manners at school, because I was sliding Brother's door open without so much as a knock. All I was concerned about was seeing my brother.

I stood in the doorway, stunned. My brother was on his bed, but someone was on top of him, pinning him there by kissing my brother so forcefully. Though Brother kept his arms on the bed, he was using them as leverage to lean into the kiss and reciprocate it.

My eyes were wide with the scene unfolding before them. Right as the man on top of my brother reached up his shirt did Brother's eyes open, spotting me in the entry. My heart stopped beating when he smiled, wrapping his left arm around the man's neck to pull him into a tighter kiss only to push him gently, but forcefully away.

My eyes momentarily spared a glance at the man who followed my brother's gaze for the reason he was pushed aside. His eyes narrowed when he saw me. I recognized him from the scowl. It was our cousin Shisui.

Not taking his eyes off of me, Shisui spoke evenly to my brother. "You should teach your younger brother it's rude to enter a closed room without knocking first." He was still glaring at me, clearly annoyed. I was too innocent to know what I had just interrupted.

"It's okay, Shisui," Brother said in the placating tone he often used on me. "Sasuke's just overexcited that I'm home." I nodded to confirm my brother's words.

"Even so, Itachi, he still needs to learn—"

"I will say when he is to be taught a lesson, not you." I saw my brother's eyes flash with anger, and for a moment I thought he was going to activate his sharigan. Shisui dropped his gaze, scolded by my brother and ashamed for being so outspoken. I looked away when I saw Brother's hand reach for our cousin's face, but I could see from the corner of my eye.

Brother lifted Shisui's face up, cupping Shisui's cheek, and gracefully joined their lips together as if to say 'Forgive me' and 'I forgive you' at the same time.

Shisui got up from the bed, followed by my brother. Our cousin continued to glare at me; even as he left the room, I could still feel his heated gaze. Blushing, I bowed to my brother.

"W-welcome home," I stuttered, looking at my feet.

"Come closer to me, Sasuke—or are you afraid of what you've just seen?" Brother's voice was compelling, and I couldn't do anything but obey it.

The room came back into focus for me, and I hesitantly stepped foot inside. I inhaled deeply once I was well enough in the room. The air was musty and stale—his scent had gone from the room as well. I knelt by the bed, undisturbed since the last time it was used, dust encasing the bed. My hands let go of his blanket to clutch the sheets on his bed.

How…how could this place change? This place wasn't supposed to change! This is where time stopped! My shoulders shook as I cried, clutching at the sheets like they were my lifeline. Everything, everything was gone—how could it all be gone?

I woke up, not remembering last night too well. I had fallen asleep with his blanket over me on his dusty bed. I moaned into his pillow, longing for his touch in the cold morning. It was so cold.

"Sasuke-kun," Sakura chimed, looking at me with a worried expression. I readjusted my eyes so I could look away from her face. She caught mine so I couldn't. In that instant I wanted to push her away from me, but I held myself back. "You're here for a check up," she said authoritatively, and I could almost hear him. I couldn't be sure what flashed in my eyes, but her concerned frown deepened further.

"A physical," I corrected, barely getting the simple sentence out of my mouth.

"They're the same thing." I nodded, speech abandoning me again.

The appointment with Sakura could have gone worse. She did her job, checking all of my vitals and blood pressure and whether or not I had the capability to fully rotate my shoulders. I didn't complain, I didn't really say much. I answered her questions as she asked them, only editing the more personal questions.

"You're all set," she said, an airy façade in place for my sake. "Come back and see me soon—even if you're not sick. Maybe you could grab lunch with me sometime so we can catch up?" It was a question, but I knew our friendship and almost-relationship fell flat because I was too stubborn to see what I was doing.

"Wouldn't Neji be upset with me?" Sakura's blush was the color of her hair.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind our friendly meeting." She smiled gently, and placed a hand on mine. I didn't pull it back, afraid for her feelings. "But maybe you're right. I don't care though; come see me if something's bothering you, and I don't mean just the physical stuff either."

"That's a bit implicating, wouldn't you say?" I tried being soft with my accusation.

"No, that's a friend trying to find out what's wrong with their friend." Her childhood anger colored her tone as she spoke.

"I'm fine, Sakura-sa-chan." I caught myself before I used the wrong honorific. Her green eyes stared into mine for a moment.

"Sasuke," she whispered, dropping the pretense of honorifics, "I know that you and I haven't been on good terms these last few years, but…I'm worried about you. You're thinner, and some people have seen you sleepwalking to the Uchiha District."

"I'm not sleepwalking," I defended myself, and I bit my lip on revealing my current obsession.

"What are you doing there, then?" She inquired gently, rubbing my hand softly. Too soft, nothing at all compared to his touch. I looked away from her searching glance, and I pulled my hand from underneath hers as discreetly as I could.

I stood up, and made my way for the door. I was not obligated to stay any longer than necessary, and I was already finished with my check up. My hands rested on the door a minute before pushing it open a ways. I looked back at Sakura, dropping my right so I could get a better look at her.

"I don't remember," I whispered quietly, and then I slipped out the door. My slow footfalls began increasing in stride and tempo as I cleared the hospital's threshold for the outside. I didn't go home.

My independent feet carried me to the official building where the hokage works. This was completely out of character for me because I never saw the hokage of my own volition.

As I entered the building, I saw Shizune with the pet pig in her arms. She called out to me, but I darted past her, barely acknowledging her. I sped towards the office of our village leader, and despite my rush, I managed to knock on the door before throwing it open.

"Enter," was the calm voice on the other side of the door. I did, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. "What a surprise, Sasuke," and she sounded surprised. I nodded, noting how similar her smile and Sakura's smile were. I ignored the likeness, diving into my question.

"Tsunade-sama," I started with an edge of impatience and uncertainty. She just sat placidly in her chair, hands folded under her chin with her disconcerting smile in place. I swallowed to help my drying mouth. "Um, I was wondering if you knew where Kakashi-san is." Her smile softened further, and I knew she was trying not to make me feel uncomfortable.

"He hasn't been sent on any mission, if that's what you're really asking, Sasuke-kun," she smiled, and I nodded, bowing then taking my leave.

I was in the same amount of a hurry as I raced past Shizune again. This time, she didn't bother greeting or dismissing me as I did so.

I wasn't at all sure where to look for him. If I checked the bookstore, I'd have luck, but I was quite sure he owned all of the 'romantic' novels they sold so far. It was around lunchtime, but I didn't know where he ate at as of late. I sighed, my run slowing, my feet taking over as I delved into my thoughts again.

How could I not remember? I could feel a familiar twinge of pain run through my heart. I tried remembering everything, but nothing surfaced. Their faces all became blurry, and the only face in sharp—agonizingly so—focus was his. Another twinge rang through my entire body now.

"Sasuke," a voice only slightly muffled by fabric called out to me. I looked up, noticing the recognizable scenery. My feet liked taking me here, as if my body longed for the sick comfort I received from this place. Only, now there was an addition to the path I had taken.

"Kakashi-san," I said, between relief and reticence. He waved me to stand with him, and I did so willingly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, and I felt he was asking the questions that would lead to my confession.

"I don't remember," I said, feeling my eyes prick with the coming onslaught of tears. Kakashi stared at me, his black eye widening.

"What is it that you don't remember?" His concerned voice did it. The tears slid down my cheeks, my heart feeling like it was being broke into two.

"I can't remember…Mama…Papa…any of them." I shook my head. "No…I—I remember only one…but it's not for the reason you might—no I know you'll think." I fell to my knees, curling myself towards them, enveloping myself because he couldn't. He wasn't there.

"Sasuke, what's the matter? It was a painful memory; of course you wouldn't want to remember." I shook my head again.

"Then why do I remember him!" I moaned thickly to my knees. I could almost hear Kakashi catch his breath on my words.

"You mean…you only remember…your brother?" Kakashi couldn't keep the shock from coloring his tone.

"I keep replaying the day he…he came home. I sprinted from school…and I—I barged in on him…" I trailed, clutching at myself as if to hold me together. Kakashi was further drawn in by this statement.

"What did you see when you walked in on him?" Kakashi did a better job at being professional about this. I didn't want to say.

"Kakashi-san…please…please promise me you won't…that you'll keep this in confidence. Please…please…" I pleaded over my tears.

"I won't say a word, but if there's an investigation and your information is vital to it…" Kakashi trailed.

"Even though…you…you taught us that teams…are supposed to l-look out for one another…" Kakashi sighed, giving into my demands on hearing my confession.

"Fine Sasuke, your secret or whatever this is…is safe with me."