Yay. Wtf is this? Serious addiction here. And it doesn't even make any sense. Do these ever? I wonder. No, I blame Kisame. The shark will outlive them all.
Disclaimer: Nothing.
-=Quietly Speaking=-
They did not talk much. Not about that. This. Or anything.
Just silence.
Besides, Itachi made himself quite clear, from the very beginning.
''Don't ask questions.'' He said, and disrobed before his partners' eyes.
Kisame obliged.
They did not speak of their intimacy. Nor did they partake in exchanging war stories. It was the past, after all; they buried far too many skeletons to remember each one. Nothing personal, haunting, or painful was ever discussed. Injuries were only physical and remained on the surface. When their lips moved, it was against the other's heated flesh, not to mutter useless words.
And yet they understood their situation – the awkward first encounters and desires were now behind them. It was precise now and straightforward. Itachi initiated; he sat down on Kisame's lap. Hands, much appreciative, stripped Itachi and obliged to the straddling position. Kisame secretively found Itachi incredibly erotic when he rode his hips and clawed at his chest. And Itachi craved every second of the lusty eyes that never once stopped watching his performance.
But, they did not talk. No thanks, no compliments, or requests.
Traveling, the constant pace, and the countless nights – it never ended. A battle, war, enemies, the blood pumped throughout their entire bodies now. The massacre was exhilarating. Kisame surged with scalding water and the hollow glow of Itachi's eyes watched all the ninjas before him die, over and over.
Some things though, were quite evident. Itachi could see Kisame's bloodlust, just as he felt his desire for power spread to the tips of his fingers. And Kisame could taste Itachi's stubborn pride, as he too reeked of narcissism. They did not clash in battle; this was Itachi's night. He dispatched of the rebel forces by merely blinking his eyes.
Despite watching Kisame with intense clarity, he did not see the kunai lodge into his shoulder.
The burning, ripping, and death of the moment, were suddenly all around him.
The silence resumed. Kisame carried Itachi on his back, as they retreated with success. He did not ask if it was painful, nor did he mention the blood sliding down onto his hands, pressed under Itachi's thighs. He glided smoothly over the earth, a fluid rhythm like the waters of the past; he did not to disturb his patient until he finally laid him upon the ground.
The collarbone was broken and the muscle tissue, gushing blood, was severed. There were serious traces of poison and major blood-loss. Fucking kid, Kisame healed the wound and stitched back the swollen flesh with thick needles and black wire.
The red though was still vivid, even in Itachi's eyes.
''I won't die.'' He said.
Kisame kissed him.
Both actions were absolutely unnecessary, and yet they did not question them.
Nothing was ever unspoken though. Itachi's grin matched Kisame's and they resumed the intimacy.
It was so much better when drugged by the adrenaline.
And they knew that too.
-=EndE=-
Shitty ending. Sorry. I just can't change it. Sigh.
It's all about knowing. And I know that without it, this would not be salvageable.