This is just a little feel-good fic for anyone in need of a little fluff. It's not very long. It's actually bordering on a drabble, really. But I wrote it in a very short space of time. I hope you all like it, and don't think "Oh, great. Another song-fic!" Because lyrics are not even included.

Her name was Jolene. She was a beautiful woman, with thick coppery hair, pale skin and viridian eyes. And she was in love with Itachi. Kisame knew this well, because she often sent Itachi the same looks that he sent Itachi- looks of adoration and uncertainty.

She lived next door to them, in a quiet but expensive block of apartments near the city centre. There was an basket filled with blue forget-me-nots hanging from a gold hook near her door. It was identical to the basket Kisame had hung by his and Itachi's, only their's was much higher up, because Kisame didn't want it getting knocked, and Jolene was too short to reach so high. It was amazing how such a small woman could intimidate him like this.

On most days, she would call round for a cup of sugar or milk, and Itachi, being the polite young man he was, would invite her in for tea. She would compliment his manners, and sent Kisame looks of fear when he looked straight at her knowingly. He knew she was trying to wriggle her way into Itachi's life like a weed wriggles through a crack in a pavement.

But she knew the boundaries. She never touched Itachi, and never did she get too close to him. He could see the guilt warring with love in her eyes, and he too felt guilt- because he knew what it felt like to be hopelessly in love with somebody, and it hurt enough without having your feelings ignored.

Itachi was an intelligent man. He had left university at the tender age of 15, having completed a Law degree. He was now the best lawyer in the CPS. He didn't care that defence barristers earned more. He just wanted to help victims by putting the defendants behind bars.

Yes, he was very intelligent. So why, then, did he not see the love Jolene had for him? Why did he ignore her, holding her at arm's length and regarding her with distant eyes? She was beautiful. She was more attractive than Kisame would ever be, or had ever been. She liked to paint, and she baked those sweets Itachi adored so with such care. Kisame was not good at baking, and he was unable to paint the simplest of pictures. Surely...surely she was more suited to Itachi's needs than Kisame was?

"Itachi," he said one day as they watched tv together. The sun was just slipping down over the edge of the world, and Itachi's skin looked bronze in the orange light. Itachi turned to him, his eyes warm


"What do you think of Jolene?" Kisame asked. Itachi's eyes instantly became colder.

"Please don't tell me that she has bewitched you aswell," he said angrily.

"No," Kisame said worriedly, "But she's in love with you,"

"I know," Itachi said suspiciously.

"If you know, why are you still dating me?" Kisame asked. He knew he'd said something wrong when Itachi gave him that look- that jaw-set-eyes-hard-fist-trembling look.

"How can you ask that?" Itachi hissed out.

"Because...," Kisame paused, "Because she's beautiful. And I'm not,"

"And you really think I value looks so highly?"

"No," Kisame said, "But she's perfect. She's beautiful, and she bakes and paints, and I know that you love sweets and art. I don't want you to stay with me out of guilt,"

Itachi's eyes softened, and he cupped Kisame's square jaw with a gentle hand. The kiss he pressed to Kisame's lips was nothing short of beautifully agonising.

"Is she tall enough to change a lightbulb without needing a ladder to stand on?" Itachi asked as he drew away, "Can she fix a car like you can? Is she capable of dealing with my family without curling up into a ball out of fear?"

Kisame didn't answer, because Jolene was beautiful where Kisame was not. He was tall, with too-sharp teeth and stupid tattoos, and he was big and brutish. She was slim and willowy, with a beautiful smile and a laugh that would make angels cry if they heard it.

"She's not what I want," Itachi told him firmly, climbing into his lap. He was wearing one of Kisame's shirts and nothing else. Kisame could see up it, and was unable to restrain the impulse to rub his hands up and down Itachi's back, pausing at his firm backside. Jolene wanted all of this. And yet, Itachi was denying her.

Itachi's lips were a little rough from worrying them as he looked over case-notes, but, to Kisame, they were like rose petals. His skin was as smooth as only an asian man's could be. He grew only a smattering of peach-fuzz around his jaw, and even less hair in most other places.

Itachi flipped the tv channel as they kissed, and settled on a music channel that was playing Elvis Presley's greatest hits. The volume was turned up to hide any other noises that might otherwise be heard by gossiping neighbours, and Kisame's heart began to race along with the beat of the music.

In next to no time, Itachi was slumped on their sofa with his shirt pushed up to his armpits, nipples glistening with saliva, his backside hanging off the edge as Kisame kneeled in front of him to thrust in and out of his body. It was an awkward position, but no less blissful than any other position they could have been in. Kisame seized Itachi's legs and bent them in half to press them against Itachi's quivering belly, then moved into a standing position. Itachi's protesting whine as he slipped out momentarily was among the most beautiful sounds he'd heard in his life, and he resolved to make it up to Itachi.

Later, as they lay on the sofa watching the conclusion of Elvis Presley's Greatest Hits, Itachi's face was pressed into the crook of his neck. He hadn't bothered to adjust the shirt, and it was still bunched up above his nipples. Kisame could feel them brushing against his abdomen with every exhale Itachi made. Kisame's hand drifted up and down Itachi's back absentmindedly for a moment, before it settled on the back of Itachi's leg, at the crease where his buttock met thigh. It was sticky where Kisame's cum had dripped out of Itachi's body, but Kisame didn't even contemplate moving his hand.

"Jolene," Itachi said suddenly, in a sleepy voice, "doesn't have stomach muscles built like this,"

He ran his hand over Kisame's defined six-pack with a quirky smirk.

The next day, Itachi, in a bid to show Kisame that he wasn't going anywhere, went to a tattoo parlor and spent several agonising hours having Kisame's name inked onto his lower back in three-inch high calliagraphic letters. It was a plain black tattoo, without any added decoration, but it was just as beautiful as any elaborate tattoo that Kisame had seen. The tattoo artist, a friend of Kisame's, had joked about Itachi getting a "tramp-stamp", but Itachi had retorted that it was a "property of" sign in this case.

Like clockwork, Jolene came round the next day, wanting to borrow one of Itachi's books. Itachi again invited her in politely, and she toed off her shoes before entering the living room while Itachi went to get the book out of the bedroom. She was as stunning as ever, her auburn hair tied up in a ponytail and dressed in a white pair of shorts with a tanktop. Kisame hadn't bothered to dress up. He lounged, shirtless, in the living room, flipping channels on the tv and feeling oddly relaxed. He'd just finished work at Itachi's father's company, where he was on the board, and wanted only to relax. She paused when she saw him, and sat down on the single chair.

"Hello," she said in her sweet voice.

"Hey," Kisame grunted back, not taking his eyes of the tv.

"How have you been?" she asked politely. Kisame was unable to keep the stupid grin off his face.

"Great," he said, "You?"

"I've been good," she said, "I baked some more cookies yesterday. If you want, I could bring them over later,"

"Sure," he shrugged. Itachi then entered the room with the thick book in hand, and passed it to Jolene before sitting on Kisame's abdomen. Kisame glared half-heartedly, but didn't push him off. It was rare that Itachi was in such a playful mood.

"I got a tattoo yesterday," Itachi told her abruptly.

"Oh?" she said, with some interest, "Can I see?"

Itachi stood and turned around, lifting the back of his dress shirt and pulling down his pants a fraction so that she could view the entire of the tattoo. It was a clear statement: I will never be your's. Kisame had never felt more at peace with the world.

"It's beautiful," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. They remained heart-broken, and as envious as they were green, "I suppose the next step will be rings,"

She never did return with those cookies. A few weeks later, she moved out, without saying goodbye. Kisame would have felt sorry for her, if she hadn't been attempting to take Itachi from him. Unintentionally, she had made their relationship stronger.

"Is that tattoo healed yet?" Kisame asked one warm summers day a few weeks later as Itachi lounged on the balcony with a sunshade covering his body. He was wearing the bare minimum he could without causing complaints about indecency from their neighbours, and sucked on a curiously-shaped ice lolly sedately. He had been teasing Kisame all afternoon.

"I was wondering when you'd ask that," Itachi said with a wicked smirk, "Yes, it is. Why do you ask?"

"Come here and I'll show you,"

Itachi did make a sound of outrage as Kisame seized him bodily and forced him onto all fours, but he didn't complain when Kisame took him in that position, grasping firms buttocks and hips as sweat glistened on their bodies. All the while, Kisame was unable to take his eyes of that tattoo, because of the way it signified the claim Kisame had on Itachi, and vice versa.

Plus, it really did look incredibly hot.

This is incredibly short. I was listening to Dolly Parton's Jolene (shuttup) and I instantly thought of this fic. I hope you all like it anyway. Is it too fluffy? :S