Warning: This chapter as more man sex! And this time there is swearing too… but there is no blood!

Thanks To: crimsondeathhurts, Spectacularly Peculiar, HMMYAOI, Dead from beyond the grave, Chibi Strawberry Neko, Slacker5000, Evnissyn, and misammi for reviewing. Without you this chapter wouldn't have happened.

--

Control is an idea that is not foreign to me. I control my emotions, my village controlled my actions, my father controlled my family, and my little brother will control my death. It doesn't matter who has control, I control if they keep it or not. So it is no surprise that my most feared jutsus are Genjutsu which control the minds of others. As much control exists in my life I have no control over my dreams.

My dreams are the in the control of someone else and for the first time since I became aware of myself I did not give them that control. It's almost ironic, really, because the man, boy really, who dominates my dreams is my target Jinchūriki. I am suppose to capture and, in a figurative sense, kill him, in my dreams, however, I only mange to accomplish the first objective.

There is always mist in this dream and it covers the path so thickly that fog might be a better term for it. It is symbolic of a way lost, of my own path gone astray. I often wish I could stop walking or change my course, but I can't. This dream is centered around him and I can do nothing that would prevent me from reaching him.

I keep walking, it's taking longer than normal perhaps this is not his dream. My hope is shattered as I see him on the path. He is naked like an animal and bound like a prisoner sentence to hanging. His bindings are black and his blindfold stands in sharp contrast with his bright blonde hair.

I don't need to see him to describe him fully, I've had this dream often enough. I move to stand behind him and one of my delicate fingers runs down the lumps on his spine causing him to shiver.

"Sasuke?" He asks his voice his hoarse, and my dream tells me it's from screaming. I lean forward, the mist swirling with my movement, and breathe hot on his ear.

"Guess again." My voice is low and flat, one the few things I still control here. He shudders,

"You." His voice is laced with horror.

"You know that's not very specific." I chide. Though I know precisely what he looks like I move around to view him from the front.

"Itachi." My name slides past his lips like it's the devil's own.

"Very good, you're smarter then you look," I pause pretending to consider, "or act." Though I can't see his eyes I can tell by the set of his mouth that he is glaring at me.



I reach out my hand and with the same finger I used to trace his back I run up his covered nose and across his forehead. Once I reach his hair I let all my fingers gently rake through it, once, twice, and then I grab his hair and use it to pull his head back and expose his soft neck.

Lower head and place my mouth just down from his ear. I bit down, careful not to make him bleed, I hate blood, but hard enough to leave a mark. He makes an odd noise, somewhere between a moan of pleasure and protest of pain. I pulled back and released his hair.

"You know," I said calmly, "It's not quite fair that I'm fully dressed and you've got only a few strips of cloth to hold you in place to your name."

"It's not really fair that I'm all tied up either! So untie me so I can kick your ass!" I sigh there it is, that annoying nasally whine he adopts when being particularly obstinate or obnoxious.

"You know that tone is very grating, please don't use it again or I'll be forced to use your forehead protector to gag you." I shrug out of my heavy black cloak, taking special care to make an excess of noise. Next is my shirt collared with metal mesh this time I pay less attention to the noise it makes and more to not getting the thing stuck in my hair. There are many annoy and painful things in this world, getting ones hair stuck in a metal shirt ranks very high on that list.

It clicks softly and metallically as it falls to the ground. I am always barefoot in these dreams so I don't have my knee-high socks or my shoes to deal with. I slide my pants and small clothes off, again taking care to make extra noise. I leave my necklace and forehead protector on as well as my ring.

I reach out my hand to stroke his whisker marked face, letting the cold of my ring run along his hot skin. I run two fingers across the center of his blindfold feeling the contours of his face.

"Would you like this removed?" I don't ask out of kindness, but rather a selfish desire to see his vibrant blues eyes rage with whatever emotion passes over his mind.

"Hmn." I chose the take his neutral response as a yes. As I rip the blindfold off his head I take special care to catch his hair and yank a few coarse blond hairs out. An aversion to blood doesn't mean I don't enjoy that look of pain in innocent face.

"Now we're even." I say. I can tell by the pink seeping into his tan face that his eyes are wandering further down my body then he'd like to let them.

"If we were even, I'd be untied." The flustered anger in his voice is laughable.

"Why would I untie you? So you can run away?" His eyes flash indignantly, but I can tell he'd considered it.

"I wouldn't run!" He huffs. I lean forward so barely an inch separates us.

"Good, because I hate chasing." My breath ghosts over his face. He gasp slightly and I take the opportunity to run my tongue through his mouth briefly, very briefly, I have no interesting in have my tongue taken off by his little fox fangs.

"Bastard." He hisses and I suck his jaw hard enough to elicit a moan.

"And I haven't even given you a reason to think that," I pause to pull at his lip with my teeth and then draw back as he snaps at me, "yet."

In a swift movement of my hand I send him reeling towards the ground, but catch him right before his face hits. I would really prefer he didn't bleed, I don't want to see the symbol of my sins stain his blamelessness.

I bend to suck the base of his neck.

"W-what are you going to do?" He stutters and I settle my weight on the backs of his thighs.

"So naïve, my brother would know." He growls and I press my hands to the back of his hips. I work my hands lower and more central and if the color staining all the way down to back of his neck is any indication he gets it now.

I slip my ring from my ring finger and replace it on my pointer finger. Without warning I slide my pointer finger into his entrance. He gasps so hard he hiccups and whimpers as my ring slides into him.

I give him no time to adjust before I add a second finger and scissor. My intention is not to spare him any hurt, but rather to spare myself the sight of that red, hot, blood and the pain of the emotion so close to guilt it brings.

When I judge him ready enough not to bleed I remove my fingers and slam into him. This time the shock is enough to knock his breath from him, but we he regains it he is screaming.

In and out. Up and down. There is rhythm here, there is control in this act, and I relish in it, but I reach my hand around and find him hard I know it is a false sense of control. He may be the one tied down, but I am the one trapped. I run my hand up and down his length keeping my arm still and allowing my wrist to make the same flicking movement a farmer spreading seeds does.

With a sharp intake of breath that sounds like a stepped on puppy he orgasms and I barely move my hand in time to avoid it being dirtied. I trust into him a few more time before I too climax. As I do a deep moan escapes my throat and should it dare to take physical form I would strangle it.

I pull out and stand. I use a bare foot with black painted nails to roll him over to face me. There is tears staining his face and his are eyelids are red, but there is no blood. I reach behind me and untie my headband and let it fall to his chest.

"You are mine." I hiss before stepping over him and continuing down the road leaving my clothes behind, this is my mind I don't need them anyway.



I awake, as always, to find Kisame's tinny iris-less eyes watching me with a knowing leer on his face.

"Good dream Itachi?" He sneers. I make the same toneless answer that my blond gave me in my dream.

"I'll take the watch." I say coldly. He just chuckles before conceding. I watch him as his breath evens out and at listen as his heart rate slows. He won't wake in the morning; he would be in my way when I fetch my target.

--

AN: Again who ever heard of studying for a test? I have a College Trig exam and a Spanish 3 test today! and more homework then is ethical, but I'd much rather write about pretty boys having sex… sigh I'm so irresponsible.

AN2: So there I was wasting my time to trying and provide the world with yaoi and FF won't let me sign in! It's a conspiracy! Now I'm risking being late to school... I really am a bad student. -Morana