Jinchuuriki, a naruto fanfic

Summary: Jinchuuriki. Personalized, one of a kind android that did anything their owner desired. Too bad Sasuke seemed to have found a defective one in his walk-in closet. SasuNaru, and other pairings still to be decided.

Warnings: OOC, language, slight-humour, UST, AU/AR and definitely shounen-ai shounen-ai shounen-ai. You don't like? Stay away.

OVERALL RATING: T

IJT's words of wisdom: I was eating honey biscuits when I thought of this particular plot. That and I was rereading my sister's collection of Chobits manga. I know there isn't THAT many stories revolving around this sort of plot, so I took the liberty to making one come to life. ;O Thanks for reading.

ANOTHER SIDENOTE: Don't expect me to update often. I've got college to think about, and this was made a loooooong long time ago. I just edited it and spruced it up a little. D:

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Sasuke held a severe dislike for his elder and much 'holier than thou you cannot step on my shoes without a mighty smiting from me' brother. On most days, Sasuke tended to ignore his taciturn sibling and pretend the freak of nature didn't exist. After all, it was fairly easy to avoid each other in a Manor that had well over fifty-two guest rooms.

But on other days, such as this one, anyone in the Uchiha Mansion could hear Sasuke's yells, shrieks, and animalistic pleas for help. To stop it? Ohohoho, my boy—to stop what?

At that scene, in Itachi's study, the younger and much more naïve Uchiha was writhing on the cluttered mahogany desk, hips gyrating in frantic motions.

Non-consented secks?

Puh-lease.

He was being ruthlessly and unjustly tortured!

In this particular method, Itachi had his pianist fingers skimming the length of Sasuke's sides, a smirk forming on his devastatingly sinful lips. And like Sasuke had earlier stated—

Itachi was a freak.

But, as we get a close up, we can definitely view the penetrating crimson stare, those mysterious black tomoe spinning wildly in his eyes. Long, thick lashes overshadow his angled cheekbones, giving him a sinister air, and his body—

Wooohoo. His body. Now don't let me get started on that.

This handsome hunk of man flesh was Sasuke's perverted older brother, who took pleasure in molesting him and freaking him out in unnecessary ways.

You really don't want to know about the birthday cake incident.

In any case, Itachi splayed a warm finger perilously close to his right nipple. That said appendage began to idly stroke the skin around, and it caused Sasuke to flinch and try to buck the perverted freak right off him.

A pair of fuzzy handcuffs materialized in Itachi's hands and Sasuke only struggled harder.

I guess Sasuke failed to mention that his brother was veeeerrry kinky.

Very, very kinky.

"Ahahah—stop it—hahah—FUCKING—haha—shit—I'LL KILL YOU DAMNI—hahah!!" Sasuke managed to gasp out, squirming underneath Itachi's skillful (note: evil) fingers.

Itachi could only smirk the patent Uchiha smirk number eight; the one that his mother, Mikoto had first taught him. In situations concerning his little brother, number eight certainly came in handy.

"Stop fucking—" Sasuke's loud shriek put any girl's to shame, "—tickling me—you—you freak!"

Itachi merely let his eyebrow quirk. Again, quite sinfully and sexily. Despite his calm outward exterior, inside, Itachi was in green mode. It meant that he had a very important decision to make: to break his daily word quota (fifty words) or to deign to speak to his sexually frustrated baby brother…

Hm, decisions, decisions.

As he was contemplating this particular issue, Sasuke began turning an interesting shade of blue. It faintly reminded Itachi of his close friend, Kisame, who seemed to have developed gills of some sort—Sasuke's eyes were rolling back to his head and—

Oh.

Yeah.

That was right.

Itachi had, for a moment, forgotten that Sasuke needed to breathe. Unlike his shark-like friend, his little brother needed a constant oxygen supply.

Now that was definitely a queer moment of absentmindedness.

Releasing Sasuke from his torture, Itachi neatly buttoned back Sasuke's white collared shirt and leaned back, satisfied with the lack of struggling on his brother's part.

"Better?" he spoke, his liquid voice causing Sasuke to shiver.

The younger Uchiha then decided that, for the next few days, he'd avoid Itachi like the plague.

"Fuck yes I'm better. If you call my bruised throat and ego better," he grumbled, and then—to his utmost horror—almost uncharacteristically hugged Itachi in (ohmegeewasitreally?) gratitude. Luckily enough for his elder brother, Sasuke only looped his arms around his neck and squeezed lightly.

That 'almost' action caused both teens to freeze on impact, then edge out of each other's warm arms, eyes both stuck to the shiny marble floor. Oh look! A coffee stain! Sasuke's mind chirped out; with an impressive slug to the mental entity, Sasuke beat it down to silence.

"Uh…"

He coughed uncomfortably.

"Itachi," he acknowledged, tilting his head back to regard the elder Uchiha. This never happened, he mentally told his brother, eyes narrowing into slits.

"Hn."

Itachi responded with the same stiff, mechanical movements, though condescended to say anything more. He did have a quota to think about.

"I…see."

They both then turned their separate ways, quite eager and willing to erase the entire happening from their brains. After all, Uchiha's never hugged others, much less their crazy kindred. That was just unacceptable and downright awkward. What would their parents think?

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Fugaku would roar, and Sasuke imagined his father's livid face, afraid that the image would spring to life at any given second.

Now, let me remind you readers that if Sasuke had hugged Itachi—well, the outcome wouldn't be pretty. If he had hugged his deranged and mentally unbalanced sibling, his parents would come back home to the manor—

To an only child.

And where, you wonder, would their other child's body be?

Probably thousands and thousands of miles away from home, in a whole different country, and in a loose black-body bag.

The possibility of his premature death occurring, made Sasuke relieve some dreadfully disturbing memories.

The first time had had hugged Itachi, was the first time had had witnessed his father going into cardiac arrest, and the rest of his mother, cousins, and other various relations following afterwards. This caused the newspapers to label the incident as: 'the Uchiha Massacre'. It was only a day after, did they realize their error (technically, none of the Uchihas had died). Thus The Konoha Leaves sought a way to spin the story and transform it into something completely retarded.

They ended up changing the headline to: 'the Uchiha INCIDENT.'

Please do note the bold and italicized emphasis.

Anyway, the title was not so much as creative as the first headline, but it was very—in a way of tactfulness—accurate.

Before the dark figure behind him could snatch his lithe and attractive body, Sasuke reached his room and slammed the door shut.

"Aww fuck."

The figure sighed to itself, ripping off his black mask. Thick, silvery-grey hair fell to the back of his ears, curling endearingly at the ends and fluffing slightly from the humidity.

The man scrubbed at his face in frustration.

Now how would he explain this to his Master?

snsnsnsnsn

Dear Fugaku Uchiha,

I'm sorry to say this: but I cannot agree to your terms.

Why? Well. It's all because of your wicked kin. You may be wondering who I'm referring to, however I'm sure that it's fairly obvious: I never have contact with that delicious younger son of yours, but I definitely see that atrocious older one—that—

That ITACHI.

To beat around the bush, I'd like to inform you that I hate your son, Itachi's, guts.

Hence, this letter.

Thus, whenever I see him, all I want to do is punch the living daylights out of him and sing a hymn over the sound of his screams. In fact, I'd like to piss in his innards and perform gastric bypass surgery to his bowels. And as it so happens, I'd also love to remove them while he's breathing and have them strung up in front of his face. Maybe even slap him with them as I laugh manically to myself. I'd even do a tap dance on top of his grave.

Do you understand, Fugaku?

You know that I know that we all know that we both silently shake on, that I'll never EVER like him. For as long as I live, the only thing I'd do to him is one, rape him, or two, kill him. And we know we can't have either or.

So don't bother to reply to this letter, Fugaku. I'm doing both of our multi-billionaire dollar companies a favour.

Sincerely,

O R O C H I M A R U

President of Sannin Corporations

Crumpling the expensive memo in his trembling hands, Fugaku stood up and reared himself to his full and impressive six foot five height, dark eyes ablaze with anger.

His agonized howl could be heard for miles around:

"ITACHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!"

Somewhere in the Uchiha manor, Itachi dropped his bottle of black nail polish and said,

"Oh shit."

snsnsnsnsn

They both walked down the deserted Uchiha courtyard, their over-enhanced senses easily overriding any security systems in the area. One with swift, confident strides, and another, mysterious and quiet in his gait. With their opposite personalities, it was pretty hard to imagine that they were the best partners since James Bond and—well, James Bond.

A brown-haired male turned large, doe-like eyes to his scarred associate. "Tell me, Raidou, why are we doing this again?" the man, Genma, asked.

The dark-haired man besides him shrugged, "No clue."

They both sidestepped a red-hued trap and Genma heaved a sigh, "Okay, since you don't know, I guess I'll just have to assume that we're here to—"

"—to make sure that he's doing his job," Raidou cut-off his friend, voice laced with irritation.

Again they sidestepped an unusually pink trap (probably meant to disembowel them), and prowled through the expansive maze, their steps quick and effortless. It was fairly obvious that they wouldn't get lost in the green labyrinth.

Genma wrinkled his nose. "Pfft. What job?" he spat bitterly, throwing back his long hair with a wave of a hand, "Depositing that defective piece of shit is not what I call a job."

"Too true," Raidou agreed, "But it's not like you to complain. We can't complain, remember? It's just not programmed into us."

Genma frowned, "I guess."

"No—not you guess—you know," Raidou stated firmly. "Besides, Deep-Flash already dropped the kid off. Just read the ghoul-intercom; he left a message saying that he successfully completed mission one, but has yet to complete mission two."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Genma stared at the dark-haired man in something akin to horror.

"Fucking hell, Raidou!" he swore, "How the fuck are we gonna convince Mister Bratty-Two-By-Four that this is the best for mankind then? Knock on his windows? Piss on his shoes leaving a post-it note that says 'You're humanity's last hope for a better future'? Fudging kidnap him?!" As Genma spoke, his voice became higher and higher, until finally, Raidou's eyebrow ticked.

"Well, that was what Deep-Flash planned to do, before he, well—I don't know—FAILED?" Raidou gritted out in a deceptively even tone.

His partner, the moron, looked at him disbelievingly, "You gotta be shitting me, Rai. You can't seriously mean that we're going to leave the whole situation in that faulty android's hands."

He was granted a ghost of a smile and Genma refused to punch it off his friend's face. Instead, he settled for a long, deep smouldering glare. After a moment of tense silence, Genma relented and muttered, "Well shit."

They rounded another corner and there was a derisive snort from Raidou,

"You have no idea."

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A/N: Enjoy. O.O