I just learned recently that it's ShiIta week! In celebration, this little fic was written for the prompt for Day 4: Habits. Enjoy!
It's raining hard right now, all silver droplets pattering on soaked grass and wet flowers, and Shisui is bored out of his fucking mind. He flicks a careless glance out the window before returning his gaze to his boyfriend.
Itachi is seated at the table, absentmindedly brushing his long ponytail with his fingers while pouring over his textbook. His thin fingers thread themselves through the inky blank strands, combing repetitively in the same motion.
He is absolutely engrossed by whatever divine knowledge the book holds for higher-minded beings (which Shisui isn't privy too because he is your average Joe and unfortunately was not blessed with prodigal smarts-thank you very much.)
Shisui knows he should stay quiet. Itachi needs to be allowed to study because he is such a stickler about good grades and high scores and whatnot, but it's been two freakin' hours, and besides, Shisui has about as much patience as a teaspoon. And furthermore, they're in college and Shisui has urges dammit and he's tired of waiting around and being ignored.
So he decides to the reasonable thing. Which in this case, means climbing out of his seat on the sofa and sneaking behind Itachi as he is pouring over his massive volume. Itachi doesn't notice a thing and Shisui smirks inwardly. When he has drawn right behind his oblivious boyfriend, he reaches forward and gives a generous yank to Itachi's hair. His boyfriend almost falls out of his chair in surprise; the tome lands with a massive thud on the ground as Itachi teeters on the chair before finding his balance.
This earns Shisui a death-glare. If looks could kill, he is sure he would be buried six feet under by now.
"What," Itachi asks, acid dripping from every word, "Was that for?"
"I'm bored," Shisui whines, and for added measure, he throws in some puppy-dog eyes.
Itachi surveys him as one would an idiot.
"Then find some suitable pastime to occupy yourself with," he responds acerbically, reaching down to pick up his textbook from the ground. He sets it on his lap and flips it open.
"Itachi..."
"What, Shisui?" his boyfriend demands, exasperated. Shisui notes the bite of impatience coloring the tone and inwardly he balks, choosing to swallow his next words in favor of keeping the peace.
"I-nothing. Sorry for bothering," Shisui mutters and beats a hasty retreat.
Ok, so that hadn't gone according to plan.
He turns around and sneaks a glance back at Itachi, only to see that the latter had returned his attention once more to his book, his fingers already methodically combing out the mess Shisui had made with his ponytail.
Shisui sighs to himself.
Itachi, as a general rule, had a kind and patient disposition (which is surprising considering how big of a brat his younger brother is); he only got snappy during midterm season, which-and Shisui gulps as he does the math in his head-would be this week. Ok, so maybe Itachi wasn't being entirely unreasonable, even though he had hurt Shisui's feelings.
But the apartment felt too small and cramped and Shisui is sure that if he stayed around and made any more distractions, there would be hell to pay. So he dons on a raincoat and heads out.
He wanders aimlessly through the streets for some time and then finally enters a little coffeeshop (and usually, he condones this kind of behavior because Shisui is not a hipster, dammit, but today he is desperate for some friends and he is sure he'll find some students from class here). Inside he finds the place jam-packed with students bent over notebooks and arm-deep in highlighters and pens, furiously scribbling, typing, and memorizing. It forcibly reminds him of Itachi studying at home, and does nothing but dampen his mood further. If his presence was unwelcome with Itachi, surely it would be just as unwanted here.
But as he stands in line for his coffee, one of the girls raises her head, and with relief, he sees that it's Temari, one of the friends he made through running club.
She waves at him, and after collecting his coffee from the barista, he makes an immediately beeline over to her.
"Hey," he greets her, a little too loudly because all the students in their vicinity stop in their tracks and throw him a glare.
"Hey," she whispers back.
Cringing slightly at his faux pas, he drops into the empty seat beside her. "What's up?" he whispers back. And then he takes a sip of his coffee and almost gags at its bitterness (oh yeah, that's why he doesn't drink coffee-why did he think he could pull this hipster shit off).
Temari sighs and gestures to her textbook. "Studying for the o-chem midterm, like everyone else here," she answers drily.
"You and Itachi and the entire school, huh?"
She raises her eyebrows. "We can't all have it easy like you English lit majors."
"Then consider switching," Shisui retorts brightly.
She snorts delicately. "As if."
She drops her eyes back to her work, and Shisui contents himself with taking another sip of his (disgusting) coffee. And another. And another. He had all but drained the cup before Temari raised her eyes again to speak.
"Where is Itachi anyways?" she inquires finally, as if noticing for the first time that Shisui was devoid of his boyfriend.
Shisui groans. "At our apartment." He gestures to her textbook helplessly. "Doing exactly what you are doing right now, but I swear he will chew my head off if I so much as make a squeak in my corner."
"Go easy on him Shi. O-chem is stressful enough as it is," Temari says, frowning at him.
"Yeah but he's Itachi. The Itachi." Shisui hisses back, purposely emphasizing his boyfriend's name. "He's a freakin' genius, he shouldn't have to study so hard-"
"Shisui," Temari interrupts, rolling her eyes. "You obviously have never taken a science course."
"How bad can it be?!"
"Bad. Very bad. Here," she says and swivels her notes towards him. "Take a gander for yourself."
He looks down on the page and it is an absolute mess of squiggly lines, arrows, and hexagons. Well, it wasn't a mess actually-in fact, it was rather artistically drawn and highly organized. But he might as well have been looking at a foreign language; even the words next to the diagrams make no sense. Something about tautomerization, and nucleophiles, and electron-withdrawing groups...
He hands the notes back. "I see what you mean, I suppose," he grumbles.
Temari grins back. "Just be a good boyfriend and buy him dinner. I'm sure he'll be eternally grateful."
.
...
.
It's late when Shisui makes his way home.
He decided to take Temari up on the suggestion, but then he remembered that Itachi loves Chipotle (and when Shisui says "loves," he means Itachi is freakin' obsessed and would have gladly consumed Chipotle for all three meals for the rest of his life if he had the budget for it) but he had forgotten his bike back at the apartment and had trekked 30 minutes in the rain to the nearest Chipotle before embarking back to the apartment.
He is thoroughly soaked by the time he returns and this does nothing to help his mood, but Shisui remembers that Itachi hasn't eaten dinner dammit, and he forges on with determination, lest his boyfriend starve.
He stops at his apartment door to forage in his pockets for the keys and just as he is about to insert the key into the door, when it suddenly swings open.
Itachi stands there, wearing a loose sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up around his thin wrists, pushing up the glasses perched on his nose.
"Shisui." He looks down at the parcel in his hands and raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You went all the way to Chipotle?"
Shisui steps into their apartment and closes the door behind him. "Yeah, for you, dork," he says, and Itachi's eyes go all soft, and it makes Shisui's heart flutter because he is quintessentially a hopeless romantic, even though he would die before admitting it. Instead, Shisui leans forward and plants a careful peck on Itachi's hollow cheek. They are alright now, and the little scuffle they had earlier no longer matters. "I wouldn't want you to go hungry and keel over before your o-chem midterm," he teases instead.
Itachi huffs but makes no comment.
They make their way to the table and Itachi clears away his study materials and sets to devouring the burrito bowl with gusto (because Shisui knows his boyfriend well and got him the chicken bowl with extra rice and corn, guac on the side-he's good about remembering stuff like that, even though he's hopeless with birthdays and anniversaries).
Shisui watches him, and then absentmindedly, runs his hand through Itachi's ponytail, feeling the silken strands entwine between his fingers. Itachi had such girly hair, but because Shisui is a big sap like that, he actually loves how soft and smooth it feels.
"You know," Itachi says, pausing momentarily from his meal.
"What?"
Itachi smiles softly. "I like it better when you're the one playing with my hair," he admits.
Shisui grins like a dork and he is leaning over, capturing Itachi's lips in his. They taste like salsa and sour cream, but he doesn't really give a fuck.
.
...
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END