Disclaimer: I don't own it. Naruto and all its characters are the express property of Masashi Kishimoto. (I sound like I have a stick shoved up my ass; I'm as uptight as Sasuke-kun!) XD

Nothingness
Chpt. 1 - Lover's Waltz


The next morning, Kisame woke before his partner. This was a rare occasion, and he decided to let the other sleep as long as he needed. After all, tracking the Kyuubi was hard work. They had to keep constant tabs on the boy, and his master Jiraiya insisted on a nomadic lifestyle.

It seemed in keeping with the trend of lagging energy Itachi appeared to be experiencing, as well. Lately, the Uchiha had been slow to rise and early to rest; almost as though his body knew something his mind did not.

Could it be that an avenging angel dogged their steps?

Dismissing the notion, Kisame stood and shouldered on the standard-issue cloak of the Akatsuki. His back and other joints cracked as he stretched, and he began to regret his choice to sleep on the floor. It wouldn't have been too much to ask for the bed – his seniority would have afforded him at least that.

Mother Nature had seen fit to bless them with snow, and the fresh powder blew in the door as the shark-nin slid it open. It crunched beneath his feet as he made his way to the small stockpile of wood they'd gathered before.

He cursed Leader's frugality for each breath of chilly morning air that wound its freezing fingers up his back. The sparse, black cloth was hardly even thick enough to retain his body heat!

It wasn't until he got back inside that Kisame realized that the thin wool had probably been the money-hoarding Kakuzu's idea. Making that man the organization's treasurer had certainly been the most practical decision, but now every member would need to suffer.

This was all getting to be far too much for a tired old man like himself.

In truth, at 37, Kisame was far from over the hill. Years of killing had made his soul weary, but who would be untouched by the carnage he had seen? His wit was still more than sharp enough, and he was in the best physical shape of his life.

Still, he couldn't help but feel that the time to retire was approaching. Itachi's recent addition to his one-man team was probably Pein's last ditch effort to breathe life into an old dog. Kisame was not blind.

What worried him was Akatsuki's treatment of members after they had served their purpose. Anyone too old to continue on was killed to preserve their secrets; at this rate, he himself had only a few years left.

But what better way was there to die: in combat?

Following this train of thought, Kisame had returned inside and was now placing firewood, and the odd twig into the cooking pit. Each small piece of fuel fed the flames, keeping this small, abandoned cottage warm. Outside, his breaths had come in crystalline puffs, but within, his internal thermostat knew that the temperature was straddling 'acceptable.'

The ninja's ability to survive, even sleep, in such hostile conditions was truly astounding. It bordered on the superhuman.

Yesterday's fire had wilted down to a few black coals, and the shark-nin had had to stoke it back to life. This meant that, inside, it must have fallen under freezing. He inspected the walls, and, sure enough, Kisame discovered a few patches of ice near the window frames. This could mean nothing, and yet…

Worried, he stood swiftly and strode towards into the other room. This was asinine: Itachi-san was completely capable of fending for himself!

But in the same way that he could not stop the rising panic, neither could Kisame deny the relief he felt when the red, embroidered clouds on the bed stirred. He was helpless against the waves of assurance that claimed his muscles, bones, and very mind at the knowledge that, beneath the red and black cloth, his partner slept comfortably.

Inching closer, he noticed that the rhythmic rise and fall was Itachi's steady breathing. His face betrayed him; his emotions were scrawled clearly in his expressions. This was a serious taboo in the shinobi's world, but was that indecision? Anxiety? Longing..?

Suddenly embarrassed, Kisame made his way back, where the oil in the pan was crackling as happily as the flames licking at it.

Admonishing himself quietly, he took a chunk of venison out of their travel bag. He slowly skinned off slices of the meat, and placed them in said pan. His whispered insults mixed almost pleasantly with its sizzling.

"You idiot! Of course he's okay. What did you think would happen – a minor frostbite?"

But the more he thought about it, the more anxious Kisame became. This was their first time traveling anywhere up north, and neither knew the other's limits. Belonging to the Village Hidden in the Mist, he was well adapted to the cold, but a ninja from Konoha?

In fact, the more he thought about, the more probable the scenario seemed. Why had he been so careless?! He had let the fire go out, and now Itachi was freezing in the other room.

He stood up decidedly and made his way back down the hallway, only to stop a few feet from the bedroom door. It felt warm enough here in the hallway – it couldn't possibly be any colder where his partner lay.

Kisame backtracked, again halting a small ways away from his destination. Heat now wouldn't help; it could already be too late.

He repeated this dance a three more times, waltzing from the kitchen to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Going, he moved in a panicked frenzy, returning, he berated himself for lack of faith. Each instance, he was kept from checking in, and prevented from sitting back down.

The last time, the shark-nin resolved to check on Itachi. Gathering up all the nerve he had left (it would not bode well for him to look doubtfully at the other's survival skills), he decided that he would push back the screen door and have a quick once over of the room. That would be that.

Inside, on the tattered mattress, blood-red clouds drifted lazily over a black sky. Each rise and fall created new folds and wrinkles in the cloak draped so carelessly over the form below. Still Itachi slept on, undisturbed.

Kisame wandered back to the food. Hopefully, he could blame his flushed face on the rising heat from the deer bacon.

"Unh, Kisame?" The voice crept from down the hall, colored with exhaustion.

As badly as Kisame wanted to rush to Itachi's side, he meandered back to the master bedroom. He was confused by these outpourings of feeling, but he didn't feel the need to put his partner off with misgivings.

"Were you just in here?" Those same dark eyes from the night before stared out at him from underneath the cloth. "I thought I heard something."

Now the man was just playing with him: as a shinobi, he had definitely known the other had been there. Knowing Itachi, he had probably pretended to sleep, as well. Kisame mentally kicked himself for falling prey to the other's fascination with mind games.

"Yes," he stated sternly. "I thought, maybe, it was too cold in here." If there was a way to save face, Kisame vowed to find it.

The younger of the two pulled a few slender fingers through silken black hair. Propping himself up, he revealed a naked chest – though no skin marbled with goose bumps. "It is a bit chilly, I suppose."

It was fairly obvious that Itachi was lying. It irked him that he could lie so easily to the person that had worked beside him for so many years. Even if it was something as inconsequential as the temperature of the room, it was a lie nonetheless.

At the same time, though, Kisame was struck by how odd it was to see his partner so, seemingly, weak and helpless. This was not the headstrong, powerful Uchiha he knew.

Unconsciously, he slipped a tad closer to the man lying on the bed. Perhaps he was hoping for a better look? Whether it was Itachi's health, or exposed body, Kisame could not say.

Said partner noticed the other's sidling, and motioned towards him. "Come a bit closer, Kisame."

He didn't know why, but he complied. Stepping over the neatly folded shirt and pants on the ground, Kisame moved to obey.

Using the lighting-fast reflexes shinobi were known for, Itachi pulled his partner down onto the bed with him. "You see," he smiled, "you're cold too."

Itachi took advantage of the shark-nin's momentary bewilderment to wrap pale, almost delicate arms around his neck, and slide controlling, yet graceful legs around his waist.

Kisame gasped when his fingers brushed the whitish flesh below him. It was like touching the sun! Apparently there had been no reason to worry after all. Reflexively, his fingers continued to caress smooth skin, and skim over curves and dips in the younger man's body.

He was brought back to reality by a significantly louder moan from his partner; one that dripped with impatience and lust. As much as he enjoyed those sounds, the shark-nin forced himself to stop.

"I-Itachi-san! What are you doing?" he questioned, though he knew he had only himself to blame. His limbs disobeyed his brain and responded zealously. The lithe body of his supposed lover twisted between his legs.

'This isn't right!' his conscience screamed. 'He's so much younger – basically a boy!'

The rest of Kisame continued to defy this logic. His mouth joined the rebellion and used lips, tongue and teeth to leave possessive marks. As he trailed over chest, stomach, lower…

'You mustn't do this!' that pesky voice cautioned again. 'He's probably a virgin, on top of everything else!'

As if picking up on his innermost thoughts, Itachi stirred slightly. "Don't worry: I want this." The other took up a new position, and Kisame's very self virtually hummed with pleasure.

Well, maybe not a virgin.

'Still! This can't possibly be acceptable—'

Sensing hesitation, the Uchiha let up his assault on the shark-nin's senses. "We're both grown men – we can make our own decisions." The pitch was commanding, decided. "Sleep with me. Now."

His tone left no room for argument, and Kisame was forced to oblige. Giving in, he removed his final layers of clothing, the only thing separating them from each other. From ecstasy.

If he asked for it, Itachi was going to get it. The way the man looked at him, though. It conveyed desperation, impatience – almost as if he felt that there was not much time left to do this.

Kisame pulled his partner to him like two forbidden lovers in their final throes of passion. In a way, maybe this was appropriate.

The shark-nin's palms roved over expanses of skin, following the path laid down by the mouth that had just recently abated. The smaller man's breaths came in pants and gasps. He cried out headily; the wandering hands were striking hyper-sensitive flesh.

Kisame brought his lips down to silence his partner, letting that same tongue explore every crevice, every space in the other's mouth. The two fought teasingly: both knew that he would be the one to dominate.

However, Itachi pulled the strings. Itachi initiated this shift in their relationship.

Now, his partner was uncovering his mouth, parting lips and promising pleasurable things to come. Kisame let his right hand rest on the other's chin.

"Beautiful…" The way they were laying (also half-sitting) had become uncomfortable, as it addressed none of their needs. Itachi's lips separated, almost begging, and the shark-nin pushed two fingers past the rosy guardians.

"Are you sure? You still want this?"

Itachi swallowed thickly around the digits, and nodded. "Yes, Kisame, I still do."

In spite of himself, Kisame smirked. Itachi responded by smiling gently before screwing his eyes shut tightly. The shark-nin removed his fingers, and let the hand drift lower.

The cry that pierced the soft, gentle dawn startled a few birds from their carefully chosen roosts.


A/N - Oh my god, yay! I really love this chapter. But you know, I like reviews more... XD Hoping for some more, for this chappie and others to come.