"The Devil and Uchiha Itachi"
Author: Shelby
Pairings: ShisuixItachi
Rating: T (15/16+)
Summary: The masked man grins. "I go by Madara. I work for Old Scratch. Or maybe you could call him the Devil." Itachi makes a deal with the devil, but cannot understand the price to pay until he stands over Shisui's lifeless body in the water. Shisui/Itachi; yaoi.
::A/N:: Much thanks and appreciation to reviewers WinglessFallenAngel and Tainted-reflection-126. You two are great, and offered a lot of helpful feedback. This chapter includes some smut, and BL. To all readers: I hope you enjoy. Review? (Revue? French!)
The forest haunts Itachi.
He walks the normal path, from the compound to the gate, and will avoid the short cut. It has been almost 48 hours since he last slept. His eyes are bruised and watery, sensitive to the unrelenting sun.
But Shisui is waiting for him. Itachi frowns when Shisui smiles and walks in step with him. He cannot be broken, the Uchiha thinks. Nothing will break the delirious happiness that Shisui is trapped in. And it's my fault....
"I knew you were gonna pick up your little brother 'bout know," Shisui says, swinging his arms back and forth. A flock of birds suddenly take flight from a tree deep within the woods, tiny black dots exploding into the blue sky.
They walk on the path between the forest, the cleared dirt road taken only by Uchiha.
"Come on. I know a short cut," Shisui smiles and tugs Itachi's hand, taking him into the woods at the fork in the path. Itachi's heart pulses unevenly. That man's face came to mind; the ugly orange streaked with black – or was it blood, rusted and deep brown, smeared on?
But it is silly, stupid to fear a forest at noontime. He allows Shisui to take him through almost to assure himself that there is nothing to fear. That the person he saw was simply an allusion.
When the reach the thicket, Shisui turns, moving too quickly for the normal eye to process. Itachi feels his shoulder blades connect with the earth; the lack of rest has taken a toll on his reflexes, his ability, his mind. He cannot think clearly. But his sharingan whirls on its own accord to make up for his lack of defenses and the world is suddenly turned inside-out, all color inverted.
But the the air around Shisui - it stops Itachi - this warmth, burning and limitless....Lust.
Itachi watches Shisui hover above him. He doesn't push him away. Shisui's forearm brushes against his and a jolt wracks Itachi's spine. A voice whispers within, his own voice this time. This is what you wanted....
An almost unbearable heat wraps around him, a warm and fiery chakra threaded with ice – undeniably Shisui's – as the older boy presses his lips to his throat, biting down gently and licking his pallid skin.
Itachi slowly closes his eyes and opens them. The world is again filled with vibrant sky blue and the yellows and greens of leaves. His fingers thread through Shisui's tousled hair, gripping almost painfully when their lips meet in a fervent kiss unlike the chaste graze on the dock.
Why are you doing this? Itachi wonders, considering pushing Shisui away. But the feeling of his lips gliding against his own is somehow soothing. 'Calm'.
Itachi allows them both to indulge in such a shallow pleasure. He lets himself slowly fade and no longer be important, the captain, who he once was 10 minutes ago. He feels Shisui's tongue exploring, the calloused fingers tilting his jaw, the teeth nibbling at his lower lip. Itachi is no one. He wishes to be this nothing for as long as he possibly can, and Shisui presses his hips into his and a different heat is shared between them, and the world is tilted on its axis much too far....
They pull away. Saliva pools in the corners of Shisui's mouth. Itachi wipes his chin.
This is wrong.
Itachi is transfigured – his chest heaving, breathless, his eyes glazed, knuckles turning white from clawing at the dirt - but this is eluded by a strange kind of calmness. Itachi leans on his elbows, and Shisui is reluctantly pushed back.
"Good-bye Shisui. I must get going. I'm already late."
What happened to that girl? Why me?
Shisui is startled. He wants more, doesn't know why he wants more, but still wants to feel more.
"...Will you come back?"
Itachi stares. " Sasuke is waiting."
Training becomes difficult for Itachi.
Shisui always happens to come by. There is no avoiding him. Itachi is wary, unsure. Afraid. He is not one to feel or admit to fear, but something is different about his friend. Has been, ever since....
They spar on barren training grounds at dusk, long after everyone has gone. Itachi agrees to help Shisui; within he secretly wishes for things to return to how the were only three weeks before, without this bizarre and...forced connection between them. Their sharigans blaze, determined poppy battling crimson. Shuriken and kunai knives stick up from the ground like ugly black weeds.
But the fights always end the same, in a haunting masquerade - Shisui captures Itachi's lips, roughly shoves his tongue into his mouth, presses a knee between the Uchiha's legs. Shisui grows bolder each time; he pins the Uchiha's arms against the rough bark of the tree, lifts his shirt above and ghosts his palms over his chest. And Itachi lets him, for undeniably the feelings of acceptance, need, lust grow pleasantly, and are intoxicating.
It is Sunday, and Itachi really should be returning home, talking to Sasuke about homework, helping Mother with the dishes, blocking Father out....
But Shisui threads his fingers through the Uchiha's pony tail, giving a slight tug and letting his locks free. He entwines his spindly fingers between strands of hair dusty from the ground beneath them. They are too-close, their breath mingling and Itachi's chest slightly brushing over the boy's above him.
"I...can make you feel good," Shisui says in a gravelly voice against Itachi's collarbone. Itachi's heart rips out of place and crawls up his throat, strangling him.
"No."
Shisui presses his lips to Itachi's, tilts his chin and grins against the kiss. "You always think too much."
Shisui presses against Itachi – no space lingering between their bodies – and parts the Uchiha's legs with his knee.
And suddenly Shisui moves, close – too close, too close, a blurry voice screams in Itachi's subconscious – and rubs against him. Itachi's scalp fingers arms calves abdomen legs tingle with weird anticipation, something that both repulses and intrigues him.
Shisui presses his lips to Itachi's throat, nibbles his neck, jawline, ear; and he is pleased by the subtle reactions he receives with each roll of his hips against the Uchiha's, each time they rub against each other - the very small and almost unnoticeable catch of breath, a tiny groan held back, nails pressed into his shoulder blades. He only wants to be with Itachi.
The pace is slowly increased, and Itachi feels his throat catch aflame, a searing fire traveling down in curling tendrils to the tips of his fingers, to his legs, to settle like a thousand tangled threads in his stomach.
"Feels...good...right?"
But Itachi can't find his voice, doesn't want to find his voice, has been reduced to needing wanting yearning for only this indescribable feeling, is humiliated by this state Shisui has put him in -
- And unexpectedly, the threads untangle and explode, tiny fibers of heat -and it feels so good, why does it feel this way? - attacking every nerve in Itachi's body; Shisui roughly presses his hips into him again and suddenly shudders and moans against his throat and then it is over.
"I...I love...you," Shisui manages between quiet heavy breaths against Itachi's neck.
The shell of doubting and fear and worry and anxiety and guilt, at least for this time being, melt from Itachi's body, freeing him. And Itachi knows it is wrong to go against his closest friend, to bind him in this unreasonable contract written in blood, but -
He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.
Sinning is sagacious.
The red, glowing numbers read 12:42. Itachi has been sleeping restlessly, on and off. Perhaps it is stress from ANBU, the demands from Father, the constant ragged hole that gapes in his chest that symbolizes the lack of meaning of living....
But he cannot make up excuses for insomnia. It's wonder, curiousness, confusion, worry, fantasy. And Shisui is in almost all of it.
Itachi imagines Shisui constantly by his side; always wanting to kiss him, hold hands, to be so carefree and cliche; always make him..."feel good". This memory, for some reason unknown, makes the Uchiha's face grow warm, though he mentally scolds himself for losing his stoic hold on his emotions.
But he is worrisome; through all the thoughts of possibility and desire, Itachi cannot deny that he worries. He imagines, forces images in his mind of Shisui suddenly....reverting. Going back to the way things were before. Everything unravelling and falling apart and ruining this - what is this?
Itachi's throat feels thick, as if he swallowed a stone. That man's face suddenly comes to mind - the man who can, somehow, read thoughts, feel emotions...inhuman. Who is perhaps as demonic as he claims.
The Uchiha leans over to his nightstand, feels around in the dark for the cord to the digital clock, and with satisfaction watches the red numbers fade. The stone in his throat doubles in size.
He is going to return to that place, the meeting place, deep within the forest.
End Note: this chapter was a bit difficult to write, but the last part is going to lead me up to an eventful chapter 3. I hope you liked the yaoi. I really don't like writing yaoi most of the time - I'm not one of those yaoi fan girls or anything - but the idea of Shisui/Itachi seems original to me. So I had to write a little smut for my readers, who I know enjoy it, at least some what.
Review. I appreciate them. Finals are so stressful and they make me happy! :)
-Shelby