So I've kinda been on a bit of a ShisuIta binge lately, and I have manage to pull this out of my behind. I'm rather proud of it. I do not own Naruto, or any of the characters mentioned in this story. If I did, I would be rolling in delicious monies and giggling at how successful I am. :3
The two Uchiha watched the sunset, and marveled at the colours. The sun drowned in the horizon, the once sharp and near-blinding rays of sunlight diluted, and painted the azure sky with an array of colours; red, gold, peach, and pink. It was certainly a sight to behold. Already, the moon had peeked it's lazy head from behind the clouds.
They sat in a comfortable silence, their eyes just quietly watching the colours merge into one another. Colours that one of the two men would grow to miss; while for the other, it would be their last. The red soon bled into black, and the stars twinkled mockingly over the inky canvas. Finally, Shisui tore his gaze from the open sky, and soon trained it upon Itachi. He was breath-taking. His skin had adopted an erethral and almost ghostly glow that Shisui had never thought possible, though the contrast was striking when his darker features were brought into sight.
But when Shisui dared to peer closer at the raven, if realised that the was something more than a little off… Itachi's once gentle eyes were dark, angry, and bloodshot, and the bright glow of love had smouldered away to nothing, and had been replaced by something… Sinister. It was a sight that sent unpleasant shivers down his spine.
Itachi looked defeated, like a man who had lost direction, or had been told he needed to kill his own flesh and blood.
Even now, Shisui realised that he loved Itachi — loved him more than he should. Not like a brother, but as a lover. He should have cared, but he didn't.
Shisui loved Itachi, and that's all that mattered.
Shisui shifted his hand to rest atop the Raven's, prompting him to look at him questioningly. Shisui would not be met with disappointment, however, as Itachi's hand grasped his own, and turned his head back to face the sky.
With his hair free, the moon's erethral light caused Itachi's hair to adopt an iridesent mirage of colours, the spitting image of a black waterfall cascading down his back. Shisui adored how the younger Uchiha looked with his hair down; it made his handsome features all the more beautiful and delicate. He had been so deep in thought, Shisui hadn't noticed that he had reached out and actually touched it.
Itachi did nothing; didn't swat his hand away, but closed his eyes as the other shinobi ran his fingers through the lavish silk. It felt finer than his mother's most expensive kimono.
Shisui was now aware of his heart rate escalating as his mind was led astray — how did Itachi look in the throes of passion? Was he quiet, or did he scream? Did he claw or grip? Is his skin sweet, or salty? Shisui's Dark eyes finally focused, and brought both hands up to cup his cheeks.
And then he kissed him.
It was magical, the way Itachi's lips connected with his own. It was right, and somehow, among all of the dizziness, something inside him shifted; never to be replaced.
This new and foreign feeling could be dwelled upon later; because for now, he was more than content to feel Itachi's breath come and go with his own.
It was then that the realisation struck him: he used Itachi as a lifeline. Used him to stop himself drowning in anger, and the stress caused by his abusive brother. Itachi had always been there, tending to his wounds with no judgement; very few questions asked.
Thank you.
Itachi's mouth opened, and his tongue pressed against the swell of Shisui's lower lip; a polite request for entry. Shisui obliged, and gently pressed his torso against the raven to guide him onto his back. Itachi's eager fingers grasped at the back of Shisui's shirt; whispered his name into his mouth. Quiet whispers that were greedily gobbled and stolen by Shisui's eager kisses. His nose brushed lightly against the hollow of his throat, and small kisses were layered over the heated flesh; warm, inviting. He was sweet, Shisui decided, as his tongue slipped out to sneak a taste of the younger Uchiha. Itachi responded with a shiver; pale lips parted to expel desperate breaths.
Shisui slipped between the other's parted thighs, ignoring the heat that building in his already engorged flesh, to pay attention to the male beneath him. But a hand pushed his chest; shoved the older man off of him. Red cheeked, Itachi had stood up and made himself scarce.
He didn't know how much longer he had sat upon that grass; trying to recapture his scattered thoughts, and calm his raging teenage hormones. Why had he run away? Itachi had been so responsive; so stunning beneath him, pink cheeked and flustered... just... why?
Shisui's mind flashed back to the expression the raven had had on his face, and finally recognised it for what it was. It was not loss of love, or hope...
It was fear.