Guilty Innocence

"It's you isn't it?" Kisame slammed the snake against the wall, sharp nails, like the talons of a hawk digging into his neck. Orochimaru's expression morphed from clueless, to suddenly something more sinister; his features taking on the slyness of a small kitten; the mischief of a child having misbehaved.

"Me what, Kisame~?" Orochimaru purred, in a tone which had the sole purpose to tease as the realisation of Kisame's accusation struck him. He covered up the small revelation with a look that meant no good. Itachi; he remembered.

"I may have fucked him while he screamed that pretty little throat raw, yes~" he paused, watching those shark-like features contort into that of a grimace, as if the very thought detested him. Oh, Orochimaru was enjoying this so much. Itachi was a great friend, not a great lover per say, but such a great friend indeed. "Oh but he really does make the most beautiful noises Kisame~" Orochimaru murmured in his sickly sweet sing-song like tone. Perhaps he was pushing his luck now; he didn't particularly fancy being a snake decorated skewer ready for the next barbeque, but really, with a reaction like that, how could he possibly help himself? The gratification he got from watching Kisame's limbs tremble with rage was just far too exciting. Now he knew what Itachi meant; the man was simply irresistible when he was like this, there was no other word for it, though, such a response wasn't something mere words alone could describe.

Orochimaru was egging him on, and Kisame knew it, yet that didn't stop his desperate want to tear the stupid snake's throat out and feed it to the sharks. What was Itachi thinking? What did this sick twisted freak have that he didn't? Kisame liked to think he was an adequate, if not excellent lover; well, at least he tried his hardest to be. He was loyal, compassionate, reliable, and dependable. What more could his partner need? Kisame was just plain lovable. It was beginning to become clear to him though, that Itachi just wasn't seeing all that.

Absent glassy eyes glared holes into the slender figure held tightly against the wall. If that look wasn't enough to grant a death so instant, the increasing bruising force he dug at that pale neck would be. Sometimes he wished he could put a leash on this untameable anger of his, but right now, he was going to use all his untamed fury to kill this man.

Itachi paced up and down the length of his shared bedroom, the thrill of fearful anticipation gripping and twisting at his gut. Any second now, he thought, worrying a smooth pink lip between trembling teeth, Kisame would burst through that door like a horde of troops ready to rebuke and detain its traitor.

3...

2...

1...

"What did you do?!" The voice reverberated off the very form of Itachi's being as Kisame stalked into the room, almost slamming the door off its rusty little hinges in his wake. It was just as he'd predicted; Kisame was seething, and it wasn't the sharp, threatening glare that lit up his shark-like slits, nor the clenching of his jaw that informed Itachi of his inner turmoil, no. It was the flaming sensation erupting in the pit of his stomach at watching the raging storm of anger quickly unleash across those usually composed features of both his companion, and his partner.

Kisame ground his teeth together, and Itachi immediately noticed the way the sharp canine revealed itself, shining with a nefarious promise for pain. Itachi clamped his teeth down on his lip a little harder, just imagining what those things could do to him.

Kisame was angry alright. Yet the fact only made him revel in the shivers of his fearful anticipation.

Kisame's eye twitched in annoyance at Itachi standing there like he hadn't let another man touch him, as though he hadn't let Orochimaru fuck him like some whore. Itachi tried to look as guilty as he could, but he could barely contain his excitement. Playing along, he took a step back. Really, he wanted to take a step forward and speed up the inevitable, but he had to make this at least somewhat believable, otherwise he wouldn't get what he wanted.

Kisame stalked forward, fists clenched by his sides, trembling as he cornered his awaiting prey. Itachi shuddered when those cold, rough arms, forced him against the hard whitewashed wall. The glower of his sharingan flickered on in a heartbeat, not by will of defence but by the will of remembrance; he wanted to treasure every single moment of this.

"You were with him weren't you?" Kisame avoided that bloody black tear-stained glare; he knew better than to look into those vermilion glazed eyes notorious for inflicting agony on the soul, mind and body.

So badly Itachi wanted for Kisame's anger struck eyes to stare into his own. He longed to remember the look that made his entire body quake with the zest of a fear he'd never experienced before.

"Answer me Itachi" He growled by his ear, the hot breath of air scratching his neck as though it were a cloud of blades. Itachi shivered in pure arousal under the none-too-light touch, when the feeling of rigid hands clasped at his wrists with the cold resemblance of shackles, only to move as if Kisame were chaining his arms to the wall above him.

It really was an unrivalled challenge forging any kind of emotion on Itachi's impassive facade. He truly was the most stoic person Kisame knew, either that, or he was completely apathetic, and goddamn good at how he went about it, though Kisame liked to think it was the former option. He'd always found it unfair that he was always the one getting roused up, whether it be from anger, irritation, excitement, and having no choice but to show it, but when Itachi was feeling any of those, it never showed; not at all. All you had to do was look into those eyes of his, and you were under that wordless spell.

It was that wordless spell that had you at his complete mercy, the one that told you nothing, yet everything, all at the same time.

If only you could understand those silent, yet meaningful words.

Itachi had always been an enigma that kept him guessing over and over again, and even kept forcing him to second guess himself at times; Kisame, a person who was sure of most things. Itachi wasn't a man of many words, but that was one thing he loved most about the raven-haired Uchiha. He was unpredictable.

It kept him on his toes.

The only thing Kisame could work with right now was the small shudders of the slender body in his grasp; whether be it from fear or not, he didn't know. All he did know, on the other hand, was how Itachi should fear him; for if he didn't, he was surely a fool. Kisame wasn't a force to be reckoned with, nor to be taken at all lightly. A shark was a mighty predator, and if one had messed with his prey, he'd be none too pleased, to say the very least.

"Y-Yes" Itachi forced the word out, forced himself to stutter, lest he be figured out. He could feel fingers as sharp as daggers clench tighter at his wrist, slick enough to cut skin.

"What don't you understand about you're mine?" He hissed between clenched teeth, before clamping the jagged edges harshly down on the soft spot of flesh between Itachi's jaw and collar bone. Kisame dug his teeth in as though he were a vampire claiming its prize, only, this vampire was feisty, frustrated with its prey. Now was not the time to be gentle. He was a possessive man, and he didn't like to share. Itachi should know that more than anyone. And if he didn't by now, he'd show him the hard way.

The hard way was always the fun way.

Itachi groaned low in his throat, arching his aroused body against the tall, built frame holding him firmly against the wall. Tilting his head, he exposed more of his pale skin, in hopes the sharp appendages would bury themselves further into the crook of his neck. The striking pain seemed to paralyse him in so many deliciously pleasurable ways, and if the intimate feeling of having Kisame's teeth buried in him wasn't enough to make him come, the anger-stricken possessive glint shining across those features would be. Itachi squirmed incessantly, impatiently; he just wanted Kisame to fuck him, hard and angrily.

He wanted Kisame to make him scream.

Loud.

When Kisame pulled back to look into Itachi's eyes, the sharingan swirled to life. Capturing that dark brooding gaze, Itachi commit every single detail to memory; those features wrought with anguish, the jealous rage knitting his eyebrows dangerously close together, that bitter resentment wracking at his very form, curling around his wrist, forcing him against the cold hard wall.

"Do it" the deep, solid voice uttered, its speaker was unable to tear its fixed eyes away from that ever seductive half-lidded bloody stare. Kisame was mesmerised by the intense beauty of that bright vermillion glint. It was the same power-imbued look that could usually dissolve his anger in all but seconds, make him feel as though nothing tragic had ever occurred.

Yet as the seconds passed, the immense feeling of betrayal still remained, coursing through his heart like blood coursed through veins. Like a stain in his memory that he couldn't cover up, nor erase. A memory his heart couldn't, wouldn't bear. Why couldn't Itachi just make him believe that he'd never slept with another? He loathed this desire... this ungodly desire to shred his beloved to pieces.

"I said do it!" He ground out angrily, holding Itachi's arms up still with one strong hand, while the other fell to rest at his smooth neck. Without even noticing, Kisame had leant in, till their faces were dangerously close, lips, gazes; mere inches apart. Those eyes, they never failed to lure him in, like the hunter, was slowly becoming the hunted.

"Why aren't you doing it?" His voice had sounded so lifeless, so dispirited. Kisame had to wonder for a moment, if that was even himself speaking. The hold he had on Itachi's wrists weakened considerably, and it was Itachi that looked away first that allowed his once easily ensnared gaze to drop. It was an action that allowed Kisame to look as hopeless as his voice did; as though all his anger morphed into that of a sudden despair.

It truly felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest, and shoved it back down his throat.

That person was Itachi himself.

The Uchiha felt guilty now, a fierce guilt that almost made the will of this facade shatter. Almost. But it didn't. He didn't try to pull away as he cast his gaze on the bed a few feet away from them, nor did he say a word, as he forced himself to remain quiet, forced himself not to comfort the form radiating pure waves of sorrow. He had mentally prepared himself for this phase in the process.

"Because I love you Kisame" the toneless voice came, a tone emotionless enough it made an immediate anger course through every fibre, and every nerve ending of Kisame's body once more. That fixed impassive state of Itachi's made him wonder if the man ever loved him at all, especially when he said it with such... emptiness.

Kisame couldn't believe such empty words; not anymore, especially when the person who said them couldn't even look him straight in the eye.

If Itachi loved him so much, why would he sleep with that snake?

"I don't want to hear your lies anymore" he muttered out coldly, grinding his teeth together, trying to hold his tongue. He didn't want to scream his anger out in front of that beautiful face, he was pretty certain Itachi could already feel how angry he was. Kisame couldn't stop his hands from trembling with utter rage. He didn't want to hurt pure untainted skin. He was trying to hold back, so hard he was trying to hold back.

"It's never been a lie" but that was it, that was enough to make Kisame's trembling hand smack the smooth pale skin of his cheek.

The sharp stinging pain made Itachi quiver as he gasped out a breath of hot air.

What took him so long?

Pulling at the wrist he already had a hold of; he dragged Itachi to the bed before throwing him with a cold harshness down on it. In a sudden fit of fury he tore at the material that usually kept flawless, angelic skin away from lustful eyes.

He admired the soon naked body beneath him not noticing the frown that marred his own features as his eyes wondered, almost aimlessly. Itachi watched on with an impassive curiosity of his own as he could feel the heightened arousal of his mercilessness. Each of his muscles tensed, hardening with that ever leering gaze trailing down his body, slowly, yet with a distinct vacancy, as though the same scene had been replayed a thousand times before. One might call it the vacancy of someone that was bored, but Itachi; he knew Kisame was feeling everything except boredom.

Itachi was truly perfect. Kisame had always known he couldn't have all of him. If he couldn't have the most important thing, Itachi's heart; then he would have his body. Right here, and now; whether Itachi liked it or not. If the Uchiha truly loved him, then he should have no problem with it, right?

Itachi laid there, arms spread out, yet still, like a canvas ready for its artist to paint over it. And just like a brush, calloused fingers reached out, ready to caress its stray hairs against the pure, untainted pale of white. Itachi shivered beneath the cold rough hand, as Kisame skimmed each pointy tip of his fingers across the unknowing smooth skin.

The smooth caressing soon became rough with the rake of his sharp long nails against the skin of Itachi's pure, unmarred chest. Like a cat, Kisame began to claw at the skin, falling from his firm defined abdomen all the way down to soft, sensitive thighs. He dug harshly into the skin with an intention to draw blood, an intention to induce pain; to punish. And induce pain he did, as he watched the blood like red paint as it seeped out, soiling its once stainless canvas; painting a picture of lovely ruin. He took both pain and pleasure in watching Itachi both wince at the hostile sensation and writhe as though he enjoyed the rough play. Not before long, the body on the bed began to squirm with a known impatience beneath the towering form.

Kisame was so close to where Itachi wanted that hand to be, he wanted those ruthless nails trailing up and down the desperate need between his legs. Itachi's hips thrust toward the painful appendages, tempting those claws to dig deeper, as though begging for more. The only verbal response he could offer was his trembling shaky gasp as the warmth of the thick vermilion fluid trickled with an ever enticing slowness down his thighs.

Itachi parted his legs, trying to emphasise what he truly coveted, what this whole charade was about as he arched his back off the bed; a seductive taunt that was most certainly going to provoke the response he desired. Kisame looked on with a known lustful desire.

Itachi was irresistible.

He was a guilty pleasure one would as much as die for and Kisame was no exception. Withdrawing his hands from Itachi's blood stained thighs, an eager yearning to dominate overcame him, like an unrelenting peak of the oceans current. His hands moved with an unconscious impatience, resting at the latch of his belt. Before he knew it, he was removing the strap, slowly shedding his cloths, too beguiled by the sight before him to realise he was slowly caving in to the one thing he didn't want to happen. Doing this, it was like admitting defeat. It was like he was showing the side of himself he never wanted Itachi to see, but it was too late now, and what he did realise however, was how he wanted to make Itachi beg for it, how he wanted Itachi to squeal before him.

Flipping Itachi so he was on his knees as if he had no time to waste, he pushed with a rough gentleness between the scorching tightness of Itachi's body, encasing himself entirely in his cruel uncaring lover. Itachi, he knew nothing of the meaning cruelty. Kisame craved to show him true pain, yet pain itself, was something Itachi never yielded to, never really feared. But physical pain, it wasn't nearly enough. Emotional pain was more dire a feeling, and Itachi, Kisame didn't think Itachi would ever know that pain, know how he truly felt.

It was sad to think he couldn't induce the very same pain.

Itachi threaded his fingers through the thick and thin of the white satin sheets beneath him, slowly burying himself in its silky web, only to be ensnared by the heated tangle of Kisame's harsh whispered words and strong limbs; the fury of both offering promises of such pain, such pleasure. Itachi tightened his knotted grasp with each relentless jolt of Kisame's body and each husky groan against the screaming skin of his neck. His brisk movements alone were enough to spike a ceaseless current down his entire body, like a fork of lightning in the midst of a storm at its very peak, threatening not only to shock, but enrapture each and every one of his senses.

Such rapture was paralysing.

Kisame's firm hand massaged the tight knit of Itachi's abdomen, admiring the jagged smoothness of the toned muscles that resided there. The fierce yet gentle pressure left an unusual tingling that danced prominently about the surface of his fiery skin, only intensifying when the tip of Kisame's finger daringly probed into the small dip of his navel. The other hand stroked a gentle trail across the sharp sculpted beauty of Itachi's shoulder blades, moving to fall along the length of his spine, before sliding down the slope of his perfectly arched back. He took revel in the feel of that heated shiver beneath his icy touch, before dropping his hand lower, only to bury itself into the dark long silky strands of Itachi's hair. Kisame caressed the smooth black locks, fully absorbing its otherworldly feel, and admiring the stunning glow such darkness always seemed to emit, even in the dim glow of the moon flashing through the subtle peaks in the lazily drawn curtains of the room.

Itachi's neck mirrored the arch of his spine as he threw his head back. Kisame trailed his hand lower, falling to caress the prominent hip bone that rest there, following it all the way down the desperate hard heat between his legs. In response, Itachi could only beckon Kisame's actions with each dip and curve of his slender form as he cried out his name.

Kisame grunted. It was frustrating. So frustrating. The way the image of Orochimaru in his position flashed in his mind every time he buried himself deep within his lover, every time Itachi called out. It wasn't his name he was calling; it was that stupid snake's. Kisame tugged angrily at the lengthy black strands, each rough jerk of his wrist more powerful than the last the more that damn snake flashed to his mind, the more he imagined Itachi crying out his name instead of Kisame's.

"K-Kisame" The low rumble came; the heady growl that still yet held the distinct heavy longing for more. The deep ring of his name being uttered resonated through his body, only driving him to attack the always so fragile looking form beneath him with an even greater force.

Would he break him?

No. No matter how angry Kisame was, he would never do such a thing. He couldn't.

Kisame's jaw tightened as he ground his teeth together. His movements were incessant, animalistic, as he joined their bodies at their most intimate place over and over again. He wrapped a calloused unsympathetic hand around his lover as they moved in tandem with each other, one pulling forward, the other pushing backward. Each jagged movement that relentlessly merged them as one was erratic, unsteady, a messy mesh of limbs that was all out of Kisame's character. This wasn't how he liked to make love; he was a slow, passionate lover, not rough, nor uncaring, focusing on the needs of the other party before his own. Right now though, he allowed himself, just the once, for it would be their last, to indulge in the needs of his own.

"Did you scream his name like that too?" Came his deep husky voice through clenched teeth, tone thick with jealousy, though interrogatively demanding, serving to convey how angry the thought made him. In response Itachi simply arched his back with another strangled utter of his name, tightening beautifully around Kisame's heart and body. Kisame's hiss of pleasure could just about be heard over the unrecognisable sound of Itachi's mewls and whimpers.

"D-did you let him come inside you?" Kisame's breathing was laboured as he grunted it out, thrusting his body against his raven haired lover with a desperate vigour, yet grimacing with how much he detested the thought. It was that very thought alone that made him want to stop what he was doing entirely, but he was too far gone to stop now. As their unsteady pace picked up, he let himself fall against Itachi's back, breath falling hot and heavy by the nape of his neck as the heat of their bodies slapping against each other, soon overwhelmed them both.

"N-No" Itachi stuttered out, absent minded, unable to really focus on anything other than the strong hard body resting against him, and how each breath of air seared mercilessly the skin it touched. He could hardly take it anymore.

Kisame couldn't describe how satisfying that simple little word that Itachi moaned out was, he did respond however, by grabbing possessively at his lovers hips, pulling Itachi against him with a renowned vigour. Itachi was practically quaking with gratification; each thrust and the tightness of nails digging into his hips was not only driving him insane, but felt utterly and totally perfect.

The effect such unintelligible noises Itachi emitted had on Kisame were unbelievable and it was the next deep husky moan from Itachi that followed and the soft yet strong tightening of his lover around him that sent him over the edge. The sultry sound echoed in his ear and shook his body, plunging him into a new sea of pleasure. Itachi groaned once more, the feel of Kisame's deliverance bringing him to his own end as he shook beneath the force of their release, his sharp nails threatening to tear through blood stained satin as his knuckles clenched tightly.

They both collapsed on the bed, sweating, panting, and as time passed, second by second, they could both feel their bodies slowly relax against each other, although Itachi could feel it, the slight tenseness of his lover on top of him. If he wasn't paying so much attention to the form above him; he might not have noticed it.

Kisame didn't know how long it was they laid there together, only that he could feel, hear, the intense beat of Itachi's heart through his back, reverberating through his body, merging with the beat of his own heart. He basked almost sorrowfully in the sound and feel of the gentle drumming of his lovers heart; the sound flooding his body with not only contentment, but confusion.

If Itachi didn't love him, why was his heart pounding so intensely?

Itachi closed his eyes, he too, enveloped in the contentment of their aftermath, though just trying to figure out how to explain all this to Kisame in the best way he knew how. They may have been together that night... but to think Kisame actually believed that he could be with any one apart from him, it saddened him greatly to think that Kisame didn't have a little more faith in him. Itachi mentally shook his head.

Cut the bullshit, and give it to him straight. He thought, with resolve.

"Kisame, Orochimaru didn't fuck me"

It's not like Itachi wasn't exactly untruthful about anything, just Kisame never really asked or well, Itachi never really made an effort to elaborate. Itachi only liked to think that this experience would make their relationship stronger; little did he know it would have the zest of the opposite effect.

And it was Kisame's hard icy glare glowing ominously in the dark that was enough to tell Itachi he'd pushed it too far this time, for Itachi was about to find out that Kisame's calm after a storm, was only an even greater storm.

A/N: After going through this phase where I read tons of KisaIta stories I was just dying to write one myself! I don't know why it actually took so long, but here it finally is, haha.

Sorry for that horrible ending D: I was actually suppose to continue this but I thought this would be a nice place to leave it at. If people like this, I may or may not turn this into a two shot. We shall see~ :D

If you liked it please let me know and don't forget to leave a comment :) Thank you for taking the time to read~ Hope you enjoyed!

Whatever happened to Orochimaru I wonder o.o