Another spinoff oneshot of the Night Flowers saga. :D This time involves a torrid summer night for ItaHana (our favorite Uchiha with my OC Hanaru). I can't believe that after so many stories of these two, they are still the ultimate powerhouse couple. This time around, Itachi has a terrible nightmare that the little devoted wife herself has a method to get him to relax...
In a single day I get this up as well as a new, completed fic unrelated to this, "I Walked With a Zombie". XD How funny is THAT?
I own nothing except Hanaru herself.
"Itachi! Calm down. I'm here. I'm here..."
His heart was in his ears as it thundered murderously against his sternum. His skin was moist and sticky with his own sweat. It was not just from the late night humidity of summer, coming from the window that was left open to keep the house from getting smothered, and to prevent suffocation on them both.
His eyes shot side to side, seeing not darkness or a claustrophobic casket, but he was home. He was in his own bed, and he was alive. Itachi Uchiha was not in the ground, but in bed - and above him was the one he was spending his life with until he was either burned or in the ground as he'd been in the monstrous dream he was roused from by her.
"Itachi," Hanaru, his wife, breathed as she hovered over him, her shoulder-length fair hair falling over one shoulder, exposing the other which was smooth, lined, and hardened by physical will. The shadows covered any outlines of the breast on that side. Although around her neck glittered the necklace he bought her that day, had gone through so much trouble to obtain for her on their marriage anniversary. It had been precisely one year to this day. He was the most blessed man in existence. She was his reason to live and leave the ANBU Black Ops - even if it was the displeasure of his father whose idea it had been from the start.
That was the first time he made a choice on his own, without Fugaku's approval, and started paving way for himself because of Hanaru Uzumaki, elder sister of his younger brother's best friend. And one of the most powerful women he'd known. Pristine and sweet as the raindrop around her neck. And behind her, the windows were somewhat moist with humidity that gathered. Her skin was equally shining from the temperature despite it being as low as it could get at this time of night. But she was still so beautiful no matter any imperfections. Just as she was beautiful when her fist connected with a vulnerable manhood.
"Itachi?" she repeated when he didn't respond to her, clearing her throat a little.
"I'm sorry, angel." He raised his head enough to plant a kiss on her cheek. "It was just a...dream."
A dream that seemed so real. So suffocating...the voices...
She rested her cheek against his shoulder. The necklace was cool and rugged against his flesh and hers. She'd chosen to wear it to bed on this night because she wanted to, and it wasn't something to be toyed with, although she wanted to just because. When he laid his eyes on it, it was the most rare and precious thing he'd witnessed, and highly sought after in various nations. A faceted sapphire was in the shape of a raindrop, surrounded with a halo of brilliant whites suspended from a branch of emerald-cuts. She didn't fall off her feet like a girl would when they saw a precious jewel, because his Hana-kun never wore fancy jewelry, but this was special as she.
And her hand, wearing his ring which was silver roses and vines, placed with a few gems - entwining powerfully as nature the same way their vows tied them - rested itself with the palm to the middle of his chest, feeling his heart which was slowly calming down on its own, but the rate was ever desperate. "What did you dream about?" she asked softly. He exhaled sharply, looking up at the ceiling as he told her, the picture crystal clear a moment ago.
His body was too broken to move. He couldn't get out if he wanted to. But he felt that he was being lowered into the ground. He could still hear the voices, sneering at him, telling him that he was never meant to get away...
"I still hear the voices," he mumbled to his wife, whom he now turned to look at as he related each of the different voices he recognized. "First was Danzo..."
"You're nothing but a disposable, replaceable pawn, Itachi. Your father knew that. Even if he did love you, that feeling is fleeting. Trust me, I know. Now you are imprisoned in yourself. No one needs you anymore."
"Then was my father." He closed his eyes.
"Itachi, you were vital for the Uchiha to the village. You don't get to make the choice to sever your ties with the Black Ops unless I say so!"
He swallowed. "And finally, there was my brother," he finished, burying his face into where hers was located, between his neck and shoulder.
"Perfect aniki. Looks like I finally surpass you this way. I thought I looked up to you all these years, but you were nothing but an obstacle to keep me from being recognized!"
In short: he was trapped in a coffin, ready to be buried underground - never to be found. And the last ones to speak to him in his mind were his father, his brother, and the man who "protected" Konoha from the shadows. They scorned him, said he was useless, a tool to replace after being done with - and an obstacle to get rid of. Shinobi were all used that way, but things were changing. He was a child of war, the memories haunting him even today. Sometimes he dreamed about Shisui whose death adverted the coup planned. He told Lord Third that Danzo took Shisui's right eye, was behind his death, but nobody was to know.
The negotiations with the Uchiha were settled. There was no proof they'd been behind the Nine-Tails attack. Danzo was even relieved of second-in-command as his Root was dissolved.
Koharu and Homura were forced to retire then, and Sarutobi himself followed - but not before appointing the Fifth Hokage, none other than Tsunade, one of his long-lost students who left after the terrors and losses of the Second War. She proved to be a strong and trustworthy leader.
And after her, she was considering him, Itachi Uchiha, as her successor. And that would also make his wife as important.
He looked down into her eyes, which were bright crystalline in the day, but at night they were dark as the depths of the ocean. "Itachi," she said softly, reaching to gently trace his jaw with the tips of her fingers, "it was all a dream. Your brother is jealous sometimes, but he still loves you. Danzo matters not - and neither does your father." She snickered. "And he has never had the right to put you on a path that you didn't want on your own. Now you can make your own...with me, and when you become Hokage someday."
Unspoken was before her brother, whose dream it was. It had also been Itachi's in the long making, but he would never tell anyone, just in case it never came true. He had the qualifications, yes, but anything could happen.
"And you're absolutely not going to die anytime soon," Hanaru went on, elevating herself so she was chest to chest with him, her breasts flushed against his pectoral muscles. Her nipples hardened and rubbed against his, making them hard as well. He grunted. "You and I are going to live and grow old together, even watch our grandchildren run across the grass."
In the Shinobi life, not everyone had the privilege to live into old age except the strongest. He was one example to start at a very young age, and now at twenty-six, he felt ancient beyond his years, but his beloved wife in his arms made him feel his age or younger. She didn't witness the horrors of war that he had. She was his breath of fresh air to keep him anchored and grounded.
Her naked leg rubbed against his waist, at his most private region which was coming to life and hardening more than the buds on his chest. If this was her way of getting him to relax and go back to sleep peacefully, then he really needed it - no, I need her. It is the two of us as one mystical being.
"Hanaru," he murmured, tilting his head forward and into her shoulder facing him, "I would never beg for anything, but I need you so much that I can't bear another second wasted."
She giggled, but instead of proceeding, she sat up and threw the blankets off before standing up. Her hips swished side to side once, her backside a tempting feast for his eyes. "Wait right there, husband," she teased, turning halfway to look at him before going right into the adjacent bathroom they shared. He laid back and turned to stare out the opened window at the indigo sky streaked with gray clouds. He'd had this house built by the lake personally for them when they first got engaged, moving in after they were married upon completion. It was the kind of home she always wanted, and he was the only Uchiha to move outside his clan district, which was still as it was even though trust was established. The Uchiha had a spot of their own that they were still proud of.
He left the ANBU as soon as he and Hanaru wed, much to the displeasure of his father, as mentioned. But Fugaku should have known better that his son was a grown man who could make his own choices and leave if he wanted to. But he also thought his daughter-in-law a smart and strong addition to the clan; he said "clan", not family. There was a tremendous difference between the two.
Hanaru came back. He looked her over, from her slightly bouncing breasts to the thing in her hand which was a clear jar. "What is that, koishii?" he asked as she came to settle herself back between his legs, after pulling the covers all the way off.
"This, darling...is an oil that I asked Sakura to personally make for me. Made of real rose water." She unscrewed the cap and brought it to his nose, and he smelled roses. Very delicate, seductive and arousing. Almost like an aphrodisiac.
Of course she would pick the most romantic of flowers. And from a source primarily for the sweetest of foods...
"What are you going to use it for?" Itachi questioned, laying back as she picked up a small amount onto her fingers. He sucked in a gasp when she began to rub it across his chest, tracing his powerful, rippling muscles and thumbing his nipples in the process. He arched his head back at the immense pleasure coursing through his body over this simple, unexpected act she was giving him. He'd given her a jewel that day, now she was giving him this after a bad dream that never should have haunted him.
Her fingers glided lower, outlining his six-pack and then the jutting hipbones, connected to sculpted thighs, behind bearing a valley where said thigh met buttocks, making him hitch more breaths. She didn't continue by gracing over his firm cheeks; it was too sensitive compared to where he was aching for her most. "Oh, Hanaru..." His moans were becoming groans now. He was burning, twisting and ready to burst if she didn't do anything to please him...
But then he growled with primal joy when her lips wrapped around his length, nestled lushly against a small, fine patch of ravenesque hairs. His head rolled side to side in this insane rapture she was putting him through. She pulled him closer and closer to that edge of bliss, nose buried deep within his pubic hair, but he didn't want it to end like this. He had to thrust his hips upwards, managing, "Beloved, stop. I don't want to come just yet." She stopped as he asked and looked up at him with a smirk, knowing what he meant. So she crawled back over his body, breasts swaying with the necklace glowing like stars around her throat, and placed a full kiss on his lips, her hips rubbing against his, her wet sex against his hard one, and breathed hotly against his skin.
"Happy anniversary, saiai."
Itachi hummed and wrapped his arms against her at the same time he found himself sheathed within her molten perfection, becoming one with her. "And to you, aoibara." My blue rose.
Review please. ':D I've just about poured out some sweat on myself bringing this to life, followed by drinking two glasses of pink wine.
