Pretty Disclaimer: The characters of Naruto are not my own!
Warning(s): This story contains dark and suggestive material. Don't complain about it.
I stared up at him with wavering eyes. My body quivered like a leaf in the breeze. He looked at me with such a lack of emotion that I began to question whether or not he was even human. He couldn't have been a human being, not after the things he'd done.
Itachi didn't give a damn about anyone else but himself. He had a boyfriend once—and a boyfriend that looked like a girl. Each one left him. No one could love someone like Itachi.
"But I do," I found my thoughts finishing. "Just leave me alone." I sounded defeated; I couldn't even muster hatred in my drugged state.
"How many did you take?" Itachi stooped down next to me and reached out to touch my forehead.
Scowling, I batted his hand away. I knew his games. He did whatever he could to get near me, even if it meant faking compassion. The truth was, I forgot how many pills I'd taken. I didn't even care. I wanted to forget; I wanted to sleep.
"..." I glared at the floor, but my expression eventually softened.
Itachi padded into my room, slowly sliding the door shut behind him; I knew he was in the room. He lifted the covers on my bed and slipped beneath them, closing the distance between our bodies. Something felt different in the way that he caressed my skin. It was like he actually cared that he'd hurt me.
He leaned up, resting his head upon his bent arm. In the darkness, I could barely distinguish his eyes from the rest of his face. Without expression, he failed to intimidate me. When he dipped his head down, I raised my head up. Our lips met with the smallest jolt of electricity; it made me feel alive.
Did I forgive him for all the things he'd done? No. Did I suddenly want him sexually? No. But at that moment, I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to be a brother to me; I missed my Nii-san.
Both of us looked up when the shoji door slid open. The sound of breaking china echoed throughout the house. My mother had been the one to find us. Itachi stayed the night in his own bed, and then the police took him away. I was free, but a small part of me felt so alone.
When I finally came to, I expected to see hospital scenery. Instead, I awoke to the sound of shuffling papers. A small light lit the familiar room, and I sat up without a single thought running through my calm mind. I knew the feel of Itachi's bed; I recognized his exotic scent.
"Are you going to tell me how much you hate me now, Sasuke?" He placed the papers on his low table and looked over his shoulder at me.
His hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and a few stray strands hung into his face. He looked older than I remembered. I took notice of the dark color that he had painted his nails. His cream-colored pants came down to mid-calf, and he wore a plain black t-shirt. I looked at the door, wondering about our parents.
"They left a few hours ago," Itachi said, his focus now completely on me. "Does that scare you?" I had a feeling that he wanted me to say yes.
He was given the perfect opportunity to take advantage of me. Two years ago, he would have raped me. For some reason, I didn't think he would try the same thing again. He didn't scare me.
I wanted to be scared. Every ounce of common sense begged me to fear for my life, but I felt completely calm. Clad only in my boxers, I stared over at him with a blank expression. In my dreams, I likened him to a monster—maybe even a demon. Not long before, I swore that he wasn't human.
The way he sat there on his small pillow, his shoulders just so, he didn't seem abnormal. His posture was relaxed, but it wasn't sloppy. His expression seemed passive, but not completely unfeeling. I saw my brother. I saw the old Itachi, long before our games.
"Welcome home," I said, my voice cracking slightly.
"I told you that you missed me." I swore I saw a small smile on his face, but it quickly disappeared.
"I won't forgive you for what you did." My expression hardened as I spoke those words, but he didn't seem to care.
He turned the lamp off, letting the single window illuminate his bedroom. Frantically, I tried to force my eyes to adjust to the darkness. With a single snap, the blinds were shut. Everything was encased in the thick, suffocating shadows.
I needed my medication. I needed someone to keep me from hyperventilating. I didn't want the world to start spinning. With nothing to focus on, I let my heart beat faster; I lost control of my steady breathing. And then I felt his hand on my cheek.
Unlike all the other times, his touch didn't seem deceiving, nor did it feel rough and demanding. For once, it felt like any other intimate caress. It felt like the last time he'd kissed me.
"Please," I began to cry as I'd done so many other times.
This is like a game...
He straddled me, watching me break down in front of him. Tears were steaming down my face, and my nose began to run. Everything about the scene was embarrassing, but I couldn't handle it. The moment crushed me. All of my counseling and calming exercises were forgotten. I felt defenseless all over again.
Our special game...
"Be quiet," Itachi said, prying my hands away from my head.
I looked up at him in shock, waiting for him to take his chance. I expected him to rip my boxers off and hold me down. Instead, he looked at me with a heated expression. He seemed annoyed—maybe disappointed.
"I'm not going to rape you, otouto." He waited for me to stop crying, but I couldn't.
The back of his hand connected with my cheek. My head turned to the side with the abrupt slap; the tears stopped. It didn't make a difference how hard he hit me. Everything was numb. I turned and leaned forward, trying to press my lips against his. I knew what he wanted. If I gave him what he wanted, I knew he had to leave me alone. He always left me alone.
"You know that's not how the game works," Itachi frowned as he caught my chin. "You've grown up." We were so close that I could smell the mint on his breath.
"But I'm supposed to make you happy," I countered, using his old words against him.
I took his hand between my shaking hands and put it on my cock. He wanted it. He could have it. It didn't matter to me anymore. I felt crazed—even excited—to sacrifice my body. Apparently, he knew that I wasn't in my right mind. He knew the medication made me indifferent to his advances and his torture.
He leaned in further, taking my earlobe into his mouth. I could feel his tongue flick across the flesh. I felt the heat travel all the way through my body; it cut right through the cold that my blue pills brought. I moaned. I couldn't help it.
"You always did love this game," He spoke as he moved away. "Go to bed before our parents get home and see you aroused." He slipped his legs beneath the covers and turned his back to me.
I didn't remember how long I sat there in shock. He refused me. And what scared me even more was the fact that I had wanted it. For the first time, I wanted him to play our special game.
I loved my brother in so many ways.
After suffering without internet, I was forced into writing; however, I only completed one chapter. Still, this is one more chapter that the readers didn't have before! Tell me what you think!
I don't know when I'll get another chance to update (I'm updating at my school right now), but my internet should be restored at my residence on Friday (Sept. 26).
Reviews are loverly!