Disclaimer: Don't own…~
Warnings:Blood and lots of it, Yaoi Threesome - M/M/M, Incest/Uchihacest + Naruto (can you say... cha-ching!?), Cross-dressing, fluff, and definitely some angst. I'll give individual warnings if need be and sadly, if things get too naughty (they definitely will might in this one) I'll have to just post those to AFF.
Blood Thirsty and Hell-bent
~matahari
The first thing to assault my already precariously overloaded senses was the unbearably clean, alcohol-induced, antiseptically nauseous stench of a place I knew intimately – a place that I often revisited in my dreams, or rather nightmares. It was somewhere I'd told myself I never ever wanted to revisit within the realm of reality. I may not be able to control where my unconscious thoughts strayed but I could damn well make sure that I didn't physically step foot in this place again. Yet, apparently here I was.
For the second time in my life.
My own personal hell.
A hospital.
I groaned out loud, dragging the hand of an arm that was protesting movement of any kind through what would surely be severely disheveled blond hair. I heard a gasp from somewhere off to my left, alerting me for the first time that others were in the room as well.
Of course, I thought, this is nothing like last time. Last time… there was no on- Better to stop that train of thought before it could even leave the station. My life is different now. Whatever may have happened, I can handle it – I'm not a scared little boy anymore. Or so I keep telling myself; that really is just speculation without proof, as of yet.
My eyes fall open, narrowed, icy-blue iris's met the stark white that never failed in drawing a flinch out of me at the sheer blankness. Thank god, unlike last time, the fluorescent lights of Hades, as I had lovingly dubbed them, weren't turned on. That was good, considering I had a headache like no other – of a magnitude that was sure to rival a week of finals at the University, positive that if the only light in the room, the soft glow of night falling outside the wide uncovered windows, had been any brighter it would have surely magnified my throbbing head exponentially.
Something was niggling at the back of my mind though… something about the University. My classes… finals, and oh…
"…Shit!" I sat up so fast, I thought it was an even bet that I was going to vomit all over the hospital sheets. Sitting forward with my head between my knees, I took care to take long, deep breaths to calm my stomach. I was helpless to stop the groan that slipped out in the form or a name, "Dad…" God, why was the room spinning?
"I'm here, Naruto," I heard Iruka mutter softly, the bed shifting where he sat, rubbing soothing circles into my back. Unfortunately, as I tried to sit up my stomach still felt like it was eating itself, protesting loudly my hunger pains.
From the other side of the room, in a deep silky voice I knew, came, "We should have known. Some things will never change."
My head snapped up so quickly I heard a disgusting 'pop' in my ears. "…Itachi?" My eyes conveyed their shock at his presence by imitating something close to dinner plates; no matter what I tried they refused to look away from the tall, dark, and – well let's face it – terribly handsome man.
"But, where's…" I trailed off and my confusion must have shown on my face.
"Sasuke?" He finished.
"Yeah."
"My otouto is at home." Itachi started over towards the bed, gliding with something in the movement of his body that I knew Sasuke would never have. He'd always been so overly elegant and poised when I'd seen him, but now he was laying it on kind of thick. Hadn't he ever heard of subtlety? Or modesty?
So what if you're hot. You don't have to flaunt it damn it. Bastard. No, Sasuke was The Bastard. So that made Itachi like… Bastard Senior.
My head fell into my hands. "Oh god," I bemoaned my fate, "Finals."
Iruka patted me consolingly. "It's okay. Your professors don't blame you for what happened. The University is letting you make them up in a week or so. You just concentrate on getting better."
I nodded. What else could I do? "Shit, what did happen?" My voice was a lot shakier than I'd have liked. I guess I hadn't gotten over the shock yet. Little did I know, it was about to get worse.
There was a look shared around the room. I was starting to feel like the outsider.
Itachi finally took the last step between himself and the hospital bed to look down at me. "Perhaps I should explain that," he said so smoothly, in that deep dark voice – like rich melting chocolate – that I felt an involuntary shiver race up the length of my spine.
To my dismay, he gave a small smirk, just the shadow of what he'd normally have taunted with. Well, maybe he wasn't a complete bastard. It worried me that his eyes were swirling with far more emotion than I'd ever seen before in the few times he'd hung out with me and Sasuke. Amusement had to be the most prominent, but underneath was something hard and cold, an irrational anger and malice. Irrational, because I couldn't understand why he, of all people, would have a righteous indignation for whatever put me in the hospital and it was definitely directed to me… for me.
Weird. Oh, well. More important questions to ask right now.
"Why you? Why not Dad, or a doctor even?"
"Because it has been deemed my right to help you through the… problems you are about to encounter," he explained. While really explaining nothing. Yippee. Alex, I'll take confusing jackasses for five-hundred please.
"Oh-kay…" I drew out the word.
He sighed, a light and airy sound. "You must be quite hungry," he stated.
I frowned, "What the hell does that have to do with the explanation you're supposed to be giving me," I ground out through my teeth. At the mention of food though, especially with these ungodly hunger pangs, I wouldn't have been me if hadn't started daydreaming about what I was hungry for. Ramen, my mind supplied. I immediately clapped a hand over my mouth, hunching over the bed again, in an effort to not puke. Why was the thought of food making me sick?
"Itachi," a voice warned, near the door. I was surprised that I recognized this one as well. Raising my eyes, Mr. Uchiha, Sasuke and Itachi's father, greeted my vision and he did not look happy. I realized I had been having a hard time focusing. Somehow, I hadn't even been able to look around the room yet, and I noticed that Kakashi, my other foster parent, was standing behind Iruka, a worried look gracing his normally lazy features. It made my heart feel a little warmer.
"Aa, aa," the elder son replied lightly and to my complete and udder horror, took the long black lacquered fingernail of his index and cleanly swiped it over his opposite wrist. Blood immediately began to pool on the surface of his pale skin, making me feel slightly queasy.
He raised his right wrist, streaming crimson droplets, to eye level with me, placing his left hand on my shoulder nearest him. I practically stopped breathing I was so worried. Worried that the smell of such a disturbing substance would make me lose my lunch – so to speak; I hadn't eaten I assumed in days with the way I felt.
"Please, Naruto-kun, inhale. It will make this much easier on you."
I could feel my face contort in a grimace as I shook my head slowly back and forth, shying away from that sickeningly fascinating sight. However, I was fighting a losing battle and somehow my brain won, declaring me and idiot if I thought it didn't need oxygen. Stupid brain. Stupid logic.
The moment I let my lungs fill, I was pleasantly surprised to find nothing nauseating. Instead, there was some slightly earthy aroma, clean in the way nature and wide expansive forests were. I closed my eyes fully and breathed in deeply, enticed by the intoxicating smell that was so familiar to my senses that it reminded me of warm fireplaces and comforting kitchens. Yes, that was it: it smelled like home. Whose home I didn't know, just as though I'd smelled this before.
The urge was so strong to lean forward that I must have blacked out for a moment, because when I realized what I was doing my mouth had already parted and my tongue was lapping the streams of red like a kitten to cream. Of their own accord, the fingers of my left hand – bandaged I noticed – had found Itachi's and decided they'd rather like to be threaded together intimately, while my right hand gripped his forearm, just past the wound. I squeezed experimentally, and the viscous fluid poured from the cut faster.
Irrational fear that the precious opening would close and that delicious taste would disappear made me latch my mouth fully over Itachi's wrist and try my damndest to get more blood flowing. It was delectable in an amazing way, but it just wasn't enough. It tasted fantastic and my hunger was subsiding to a no-longer gnawing feeling, but the hunger was still there. Somehow I knew I would never be full drinking from Itachi.
That was when the void that my mind had become finally fastened onto a specific word, hitting me like a ton of bricks – it was blood! Blood, for Christ's sake! The hunger induced fog lifted as quickly as it had come and I could only look helpless and terrified at Itachi as he stared down at me, eyes at half-mast. There was something more in his cold eyes now, something I recognized with a shiver not born of fear but of anticipation.
The shock value of my actions made me dizzy, my vision fuzzy and fading around the edges. So many questions swept through my mind, at an alarming pace, before it went black. My mind latched onto one fleeting thought before sleep took me peacefully. Lust. Itachi's eyes had held lust – scarlet swirls of pure passion, glowing in the darkness.