Written because I have a strange fascination with Itachi in a skirt. OTL

Also written as practice for a certain Secret Santa exchange...

Reversal!


It all began when Shisui found a pair of panties on Itachi's bed.

Of course, Itachi was naturally extremely embarrassed, so when Shisui pulled him over to the side one day to talk about puberty and condoms and—oh god—why masturbating is the infinitely preferable choice in their situation, Itachi was not at all surprised. But that didn't make the talk any less mortifying, or make Shisui any less of a helicopter friend nowadays- "Helicopter," as in, never leaving Itachi alone around females within a radius of 70 kilometers for longer than 2 seconds.

Ever since that day Itachi resolved to better hide those highly incriminating pieces of evidence so that he wouldn't have to deal with that again, but alas, apparently his best and only friend took it upon himself to be the "sex-cop" and inspect every nook and cranny of his room whenever Itachi was out late for archery practice. He didn't find anything since Itachi made sure of that, and he didn't find anything for the next few months.

And so, with the help of time, Shisui eventually relented his constant inspections and declared Itachi "clean." More time passed, and before Itachi knew it his fifteenth birthday had passed and Shisui was well on his way to eighteenhood ("I'm gunna be an adult, 'Tachi, and I CAN'T WAIT," he screamed in the dead of night to the dismay of Itachi's family). Unfortunately, however, Itachi became too placated in how he carried about with his business, which brings him to now.

Standing at the foot of his open bathroom, mouth agape, was his best friend. Staring. Eyes wide. At Itachi. In a frilly maid uniform.

A frilly French maid uniform, which naturally makes a whole world of a difference.

Still facing the mirror, Itachi furiously blushed and slowly turned around when he saw his cousin's expression reflecting in the glass. He was still in the middle of fixing his hair with his hands. "I-I can explain."

Shisui didn't respond. His face didn't change, and he didn't move either.

"I," Itachi gulped. His face was still burning from the sudden rush of blood to his cheeks. "Well, um," suddenly at a loss as to what to say, he began fiddling with the hem of his skirt. It actually wasn't that complicated, but he hadn't prepared himself for this; he didn't think he would need to anyway.

Shisui still did not react. Itachi was beginning to get worried.

"Shisui?" he quietly ventured. "…Shisui?" he tried again. A few pregnant pauses passed before he responded.

"Those panties," he whispered. Realization dawned on him.

"… Panties?"

"Those panties," he whispered again breathlessly. Itachi had a feeling Shisui hasn't been breathing the whole time. "There was no girl?" Itachi bit his lip, his face still red—Shisui's face was red too, but more from lack of oxygen than from shock, or was it? Itachi quietly answered, eyes downcast.

"No, there was no girl."

"Then," Shisui shakily raised his hand to point at the dress, "That… you... You were the girl?"

"I—what?"

"You're the 'girl,'" he repeated. "It all makes sense now. You couldn't get a girlfriend, so you decided to act as a substitute, and," Shisui's voice was becoming increasingly higher, and Itachi, realizing where this was headed, intervened.

"WHAT?" he half-screamed, flailing his arms all about. "No, Shisui, you got it all wrong! It's not like that!"

"THEN WHAT IS IT?" Shisui was screaming now, and Itachi ran to slap his mouth shut. "MMMMFGRFFHMMM!"

"Sh-shut up, the whole house will hear you!" Too late.

"Nii-san," ten year old Sasuke shouted up the staircase, "What is Shisui-nii screaming about?" Still wrestling his cousin down, Itachi strained to keep his voice as normal as possible.

"It's nothing, Sasuke! Nothing at all! Shisui's just, ah," What's a stupid thing Shisui would typically do? "He's just, uh, panicking about the spider in the bathroom! A-and how we switched our toothpaste brands! THAT'S ALL!"

Little Sasuke, wondering why his brother sounded a little more panicked than usual, shrugged and wondered off to the living room. It wasn't the first time Shisui threw a loud hissy fit ("UMPFFF—GAH—Goddammit 'Tachi that HURT!") over the smallest of things. Mikoto, having also heard the commotion upstairs, smiled.

"They sure are lively today," she hummed happily. Fugaku raised an eyebrow, turned another page in the newspaper and continued reading as another thump resounded upstairs.

"Kids," he mumbled.

Meanwhile, Itachi gave a good smack to Shisui's curly little head. "What was that for?" he whined. Flustered, Itachi spun around, skirt and lace flying about in a flurry, and hit him again.

"That," he raised a grave finger at his cousin's perplexed face, "Was for nearly giving me away to my family!" Shisui rubbed at the now sore spot on his head, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Well, m'sorry 'bout that," he groggily replied. "But you're jus' so completely decked out, and I didn't know how t' act." Shisui took a closer look at his lil' cousin and blanched. Itachi really was decked out, down to the ribbons and the frills and the lacy panties—the image sent all the blood in his body to his head, and suddenly he couldn't think anymore. He made a mad dash out the door, down the stairs and straight out the door, Itachi's panicked voice only a whisper in the rush of wind blowing in his ears.

Missing the chance to make Shisui keep this a secret, Itachi slumped onto the ground, sitting on his knees. He bowed his head into his hands and massaged his eyes.

This is going to be complicated.