"I, uh, I dunno why I joined esports, really."
Kisame grinned and scratched the back of his head.
"I guess I just wanted to do something cool before I got too old. I can always be a physical therapist, but the window for pro gaming is pretty small. So I tried out for Hidden Mist, aaand I've been playing video games for a shit-ton of money ever since."
Itachi smiled fondly, thumbing the sleeve of his sweater. "It was the best decision I could have ever made for myself. I didn't enjoy the game, and I always felt so uncomfortable on stage, but I still felt… Something compelled me to work hard and claw my way to the top."
"It's changed my life." Deidara ran a hand through his hair. "I grew up in a small town in Idaho, so I never knew acceptance until I moved out here to join the industry. And…" he smiled, "I finally learned to love myself – really love and accept myself, because of everyone around me."
"It really was a lot of work but I feel like, for all of the friendships I've made and the experiences we've shared together, it truly was worth it," Konan added, "These boys are like my own children. Nothing makes me happier than having them together at the dinner table every evening."
The screen faded to a clip of a camera panning around them in slow-motion as Nagato's voice said, "They have all had a rough year, but they still worked night and day to get here. No matter what happened, they showed a dedication I have never seen before– to the game, and to one another."
"I don't think people understand just how important this Worlds is to us." Kyusuke stood in front of the Madison Square Garden entrance, dozens of people passing by. "We need to be the best we can be. We need to play harder than we ever have. Because this? This is it."
The camera panned around Kisame, who was standing on a pier. "This might be my last run. I just don't think I've got much left in me, you know?"
"Esports has put… A lot into perspective for me – for all of us. We've all gained something invaluable."
"There is so much to gain from this life." Konan and her husband, Yahiko, appeared on the screen, holding each other in the subway. "But there is also so much that you have to sacrifice."
"Going into Worlds… I think we're all a little scared."
The screen showed Itachi wrapping his arms around Sasuke.
"We all have new priorities. We all have someone to take care of, now."
"I think it's just time to move on."
The silhouettes of Kisame and Itachi nuzzling, shadowed by the backdrop of the setting sun, appeared on-screen.
"It's time for a new chapter."
The team walked up the steps on each side of the stage, the camera switching between close-ups of the backs of their jerseys until they convened around the trophy, where the camera began to pan around them.
"It's time for a new chapter of Akatuski eSports."
"There's no way I'm letting my team leave on a bad note."
The camera showed their faces looking up to stare directly into the lens from where they were standing, one-by-one.
"We've got one good fight left in us."
"This stage is ours."
The video faded to black and, then, the logo for Shippuden's world championship appeared.
There was a moment of stunned silence in the room as they all let the video sink in.
It was the video that would be played as their introduction before the first match they played. It took nearly an entire day to film and record, but the end result was worth it. The cinematography and editing both had the same kind of quality you would expect from a feature-length documentary.
"That was…"
"Holy shit," Kisame muttered.
"Guys…" Deidara shifted his weight to the other foot, sniffing. "That was the last video we'll ever shoot together."
A muffled whimper came from Konan, who pressed her fingers to her lips. She was crying.
"I just love you all so much," she sobbed when Kisame gathered her up in his arms.
Kyusuke rushed in to join, then Deidara. Even Sasori looked misty-eyed as he wrapped his arms around Deidara from the side.
Kisame's voice was thick. "We love you, too, mom."
Itachi kept his face low to hide his trembling lip, draping his arms over Kyusuke's and Konan's shoulders.
"No matter what happens, I will be so proud of you," she cried, "You deserve to be here – you deserve to win this. You have all worked so, so hard."
Deidara's breath stuttered, and he buried his face in her neck. "I'm gonna miss you guys."
The lump in Itachi's throat continued to grow. He tried to swallow against it, but it only seemed to make his airways even tighter.
"Yeah, me too," Kisame grunted.
"Each and every one of you better call me every day!" Konan demanded around a hiccup.
Itachi could see Kisame's shoulders start to tremble and jerk with quiet sobs, and he felt himself reach his limit. He squeezed Kyusuke's shoulder and let his forehead drop to Konan's. A tear dropped to her jersey sleeve.
It was half an hour before they finally broke apart.
Can we go back, this is the moment.
Tonight is the night, we'll fight till it's over.
So we put our hands up like the ceiling can't hold us,
Like the ceiling can't hold us.
Na na na na na na na na.
Itachi's cheeks hollowed out as he sucked the last of his drink, which was mostly ice and the bubbly remains of a cocktail, through a thin black straw. He watched the crowd in front of him dance and bump and writhe around to the catchy beat, most of them with drinks in their hands. Lights of varying hues of blues and purples danced over the party attendees, who were all involved in the esports industry in some way or another, which made for a rather intriguing sight for a pleasantly buzzed Itachi.
Oh, boy, he really should have eaten something before. Probably. Maybe.
A familiar 6'6" figure appeared in front of him, effectively blocking his view from the partygoers and EDM-style lightshow. Itachi wasn't complaining, though, because that same figure was hooking a finger under his chin to lift his face up for a kiss.
And Itachi liked Kisame's kisses.
"You doin' okay?" he asked, looking positively tickled at the sight of Itachi's alcohol-flushed cheeks.
Itachi used both hands to grab hold of Kisame's shirt – at some point, the empty glass had disappeared – and drag him in for another kiss, this one noticeably deeper.
And, maybe, a little sloppy.
Chuckling into his mouth, Kisame gave him one long, lush kiss before pulling back enough to look him in the eyes. "I'll take that as a yes." He raised Itachi's empty glass, "You want another?"
Had Itachi been sober, instead swaying on his feet with three cocktails circulating through his bloodstream, he would have noticed the hazy way his partner was smirking.
He grinned and nodded, not caring to move the lock of hair that flopped in front of his eye.
"The same?"
The way Itachi's smile turned into an impish leer should have started setting off alarms in Kisame's brain, given that it rivaled his own predatory grin in a maddeningly sultry way, but Zabuza and Suigetsu had convinced him to take advantage of the open bar and take shots with them – a competition that he won with five back-to-back hits of Partida Blanco.
So, when his normally reserved fiancé grabbed him by the belt and started guiding him over to the bar, he wasn't complaining.
And he sure as shit wasn't complaining when Itachi leaned over the marble countertop to speak to the bartender. Itachi hadn't been able to get back to the gym since the surgery, which seemed to have kicked his and Sasuke's appetites into overdrive, so he had softened up in ways that made his jeans tight enough for the fabric to strain over his ass as he bent over. Normally Kisame was into more fit guys but, watching Itachi's hips sway back and forth in time with whatever dubstep remix was pouring from invisible speakers in loud, heavy thrums, he was really digging Itachi with a little extra weight on him.
Just as he had started toying with the idea of taking a fistful of that ass in his hand, Itachi turned around with two shotglasses carefully balanced in one hand, and some yellow-colored martini in the other.
Kisame didn't need him to grab him by the belt this time – he followed Itachi as be practically sauntered over to the high-top area to set down the collection of drinks. Upon closer inspection Kisame could see that the shotglasses were filled with layers of some sort of brown liquor and topped with what looked like… Whipped cream? He raised an eyebrow at Itachi, who was eyeing him like a hungry jungle cat as he guided him into one of the seats.
"Have you ever had a blowjob?"
As the tequila started to slam into him like a brick wall, Kisame could only blink in confusion.
Itachi's smirk expanded for one of his canines to be visible. "Would you like me to show you?"
Wh-wha-what? A blowjob? Here? Kisame was all about adding the element of danger of being caught, and maybe frequented the voyeurism tag on porn sites, but he would need a shit ton more booze before he started whipping his dick out in public.
Itachi took no heed of his apprehensiveness, however, and plucked one of the shotglasses off of the table to place it between Kisame's closed thighs. Hands behind his back, Itachi leaned over in one swift movement to wrap his lips around the shotglass, exhaling enough for Kisame's crotch to become uncomfortably warm, then straightened up to toss his head back. When he pulled the glass out of his mouth, a small smear of whipped cream clung to his lip.
He licked it away, still maintaining eye contact.
Kisame could actually feel a little part of his brain short-circuit watching that pretty pink tongue leisurely trace the top of his equally pretty lip.
Lithely, Itachi stepped back to hop on to the chair adjacent to Kisame. He pulled his hair from the tie that kept it fastened at the nape of his neck, and Kisame was finding it exceedingly difficult to focus on anything other than how he'd rather see those long pretty piano fingers wrapped around his dick, rather than the stem of his martini glass.
Kisame took a moment to screw his eyes shut in a vain attempt at clearing his head, something that was easier said than done as he slid off of the bar stool. Or, rather, he attempted to slide off, but it was more of a clumsy lumbering movement that made him feel like a giant that was scaring all the townspeople. Kisame felt like he was leaving an afterimage as he moved, like his body was moving in slow-motion.
Should that have told him to stop drinking? Probably.
Did it? Nah.
A pale hand found itself on the back of his head to guide him down to the shot that was between Itachi's thighs. The gesture was deliberate, Kisame could tell that much from the perpetual leering grin on his partner's face, and Kisame was seriously beginning to consider stocking his future house up on liquor for when Itachi visited. Maybe, if he got lucky, he'd get one hell of a strip tease.
Itachi was not, by any means, into voyeurism, but he wasn't thinking about the crowd that wasn't paying them any mind as he released his grip on Kisame's hair to let him straighten up.
He was thinking about how thrilling it was to embrace his sexuality again.
The booze just made him care a little less about where they were.
The taste of amaretto and Bailey's still lingered on his tongue as he took another sip of his martini lemon drop, sure to make a show of running the tip of his tongue along the sugar-coated rim. Kisame's eyes darkened and remained fixated on his lips, still glistening from the moisture that clung to them, even as he extended his legs to rest them over Kisame's lap.
"Since when d'you drink?" Kisame's slurred question was nearly lost to the remixed Womanizer that filled every corner of the nightclub that the Shippuden publishers had secured for the evening.
A shrug.
Itachi reduced his martini to half. He discreetly rolled his ankle so that it rubbed against the erection that bulged through his dark jeans, smirking at the way Kisame tried to hide the way it made him fidget.
"Mkay, time fer water," Kisame announced, dropping off of the chair and grabbing the empty shotglasses.
He was drunk as hell, but he wasn't so plastered that he wasn't capable of knowing when it was time to call it quits. Alcohol seemed to bring out a rather licentious side of Itachi that Kisame definitely had zero qualms with whatsoever, other than the fact that Itachi wasn't in a state where he could be trusted to make informed decisions for himself, so he needed to take advantage of his fast metabolism and sober up before heading back to their room. Granted, Kisame was still going to be tipsy by the time their Uber dropped them off, but tipsy mostly just meant giggly and clumsy for him, rather than vulnerable to the sinful glint in the back of Itachi's eyes, which followed him from behind that yellow martini as he flagged down the bartender for a couple bottles of water.
One of these days he would have to figure out how to elicit this kind of behavior from Itachi when he was sober. If he looked at Kisame like that while he was fucking him…
Shit. No. Kisame needed to focus on something else.
His muscles were sore from working out in the hotel gym earlier. When he reached out to meet the bartender halfway, the muscles in his shoulder stretched and groaned.
Like the soreness he felt after letting Itachi have his way with him –
Laundry! Kisame had to do a ton of laundry. Before they left he considered tackling their overfull hamper that sat in the corner of their bedroom, but he was more interested in challenging Deidara to a swimming competition in the pool. A lot of that laundry was comprised of dirty, stinky gym clothes that were completely saturated with sweat, so there was no doubt in Kisame's mind that it would be a festering pile of disgustingness by the time they got back.
Gross.
The last of Itachi's martini had been emptied by the time Kisame willed his boner away, nothing left but a thin cloudy film sticking to the inside of the glass. He took the bottle that was handed to him but had since turned his attention to the group of people that were dancing the night away beneath a dozen laser lights. It was kind of like the way he'd look at a new kind of Little Debbie product, where he kind of wanted to try it but he didn't want to waste money on something he wasn't sure he'd enjoy.
"Wanna dance?"
Itachi scrunched his nose a little.
"C'mon," Kisame took his hand in his own, noting how the small touch still made his stomach flutter, and started to pull him away from the high top area.
"Kisame –"
"No one'll pay attention t'ya, babe," Kisame assured him. His mouth felt fuzzy from the sheer amount of alcohol that was sucking all of the moisture from his tongue and lips, and his lips felt weirdly numb so it was getting difficult to enunciate.
It was obvious that Itachi was still hesitant to join him, but the layers of inhibitions that would have him outright rejecting the concept of dancing had been peeled away by the alcohol he had consumed. He allowed himself to be guided through the throng of dancers until they were tucked away towards a dark spot where people wouldn't notice them. There may be an open bar, but this was still a professional industry party; there wouldn't be any horny couples looking to interrupt them by trying to make out in a corner.
Kisame guzzled down the water in his hand, the cheap plastic crunching under the vacuum pressure, and chucked it into the nearby trash can so he could place both of his hands on Itachi's hips. He pulled him close, hoping that his size would help Itachi feel shielded somewhat from the eyes he thought would be on him.
"I don't know how," Itachi muttered after a handful of awkwardly silent seconds.
"Just move, baby," Kisame kissed his forehead, "There's no wrong way."
Itachi didn't watch movies that involved dancing, and he sure as hell didn't have any experience, so he struggled to recall what he had seen – which was already fuck-all difficult when his brain felt like it had been replaced with cotton. He furrowed his brow and rolled his hips experimentally.
"There you go," Kisame purred, repositioning his legs to sway side to side.
Kisame allowed Itachi to set the pace of their movements. His hands didn't stray from where they were casually resting over his iliac crest, and waited for Itachi to swing his hips a certain way or move his body more in sync with the rhythm as he got more into it. At some point Itachi started letting his hands roam over his body, filling his palms with the swells of muscles that curved over his chest and arms, and Kisame nearly giggled in unadulterated delight.
Kisame opened his mouth to protest when Itachi pulled back, but stopped himself when Itachi locked his eyes on his as he finished his water. That glimmer from earlier returned, one that Kisame was quickly learning was a glimmer that was very capable of making his blood pressure elevate, so he was pretty convinced that Itachi wasn't about to call it quits.
Once the bottle was tossed into the same trash can, Kisame's speculations were confirmed as Itachi suddenly turned around to press himself against Kisame's front, one hand slithering up and around to secure itself around the back of Kisame's thick neck. The other took the liberty of taking hold of Kisame's wrist and slinging it over his waist so that his hand was pressed flat over Itachi's belly. Kisame took the hint and smoothed both of his hands over his rolling hips so he could move with him.
They stayed like that for a few more songs, but Kisame was more interested in feeling Itachi twist and roll against him than letting the music flow through him, or whatever the fuck else people said when talking about dancing. He did, however, chuckle with the rest of the room when a round of laughter (And groans) erupted when Sandstorm started playing because, of course, you can't go to a party without hearing it at least once.
Eventually Itachi turned back around to practically drag Kisame into the crowd, to which Kisame felt himself smiling like a lovestruck idiot, because Itachi's smile was so blissful and beautiful…
Suigetsu should be thankful for the self control that prevented Kisame from making him swallow his own teeth when he started whistling when Itachi pulled his face down for a kiss. Or, maybe, he should be thanking Kisame's complete lack of a desire to remove his hands from Itachi's body for any amount of time.
He did receive a rather withering glare from Itachi, though.
Kisame nudged his cheek with his nose to get another kiss. "You wanna get outta here?"
Another smile – fuck, Kisame wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to how goddamn happy they made him – and Itachi nodded.
"Big Mac?"
It wouldn't hurt to indulge him every now and then; Kisame knew he was a little too overbearing when it came to Itachi's health, something that may or may not have become more of an issue after the surgery.
Itachi giggled and nodded again.
"Alright, baby," Kisame kept one arm around his waist while fishing his phone out of his back pocket, "Let's go get some more water, and we'll bounce."
It wasn't more than a few minutes later when their Lyft rolled up to the club's curb, gravel crunching beneath its tires. Itachi was, thankfully, nowhere near as plastered as he was the night Kisame picked him up from The Metro, so it was a lot easier to get him into the car this time around. They were splitting the fare with another couple, who began to argue within a few minutes of the ride.
"No, we are not going to the same place," a man with a thick Middle Eastern accent Itachi couldn't place insisted, "I do not know this woman – we only just met!"
"That is not true, he said I could stay with him tonight!"
"Well, I only got two destinations so I can't stop anywhere else 'til I finish this ride," the driver's voice was understandably strained as he explained their options, "We can figure out whatta do when we get to your hotel."
"There's nothing to figure out! I'm staying with him!"
The male passenger's frown deepened, "You are insane! I am not sharing a hotel room with a woman I just met!"
"Then why are we sharing a Lyft?!"
"I thought that you were the one I was splitting the fare with!"
Itachi scooted away from the man to press himself closer to Kisame's side, who threw his arm around his shoulder to hold him tight. Kisame pressed a kiss to his hair, then his temple.
"I don't think we'll be able to stop, baby," he murmured, "If you're okay with waiting, I'll run out and find you somethin' when we get back to the room."
The driver looked in the rearview mirror, "You guys wanna stop somewhere?"
Itachi buried his face in Kisame's chest, who looked up to wave him off. "Nah, man, it's cool. We were just gonna ask if we could stop at a drive through real fast."
"That's not a problem! Where d'ya wanna stop?"
"Are you fucking me?!" the female exclaimed from the passenger's seat, "You'll stop for them, but you can't take me somewhere off the route?!"
Itachi was practically crawling into Kisame's body by this point. He was so uncomfortable – he was literally caught between the two arguing passengers, and he was not okay with it.
"Their hotel's on the same road as a lotta fast food joints," the driver drawled, his voice thick with a Jersey accent.
"Really, man, you don't have to –"
"Don't worry about it! Just tell me where you wanna go."
"This is such bullshit!" the woman folded her arms and twisted around to glare at the men in the backseat, "Of course you'd favor the foreigner and faggots. Liberal white-hating piece of shit."
The muscles in Kisame's muscles twitched. "Whoa! Chill!"
"Don't you fucking tell me to chill – who do you think you are, you degenerate!?"
Itachi bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut, fingers tugging on his shirt, "Kisame, please don't…"
"What a disgusting woman…" the man next to him sighed.
The way Kisame's arm twitched and flexed around Itachi told him that he was geared up and ready to lash out at the woman that released a stream of profanity and bigotry, but was keeping himself in check for Itachi's sake. He pressed a kiss into his chest as a thank you.
The driver pulled into a twenty-four-hour McDonald's drive through and took their orders, a medium Big Mac combo for Itachi and a large Diet Coke and a side of apples for Kisame. Kisame passed over a twenty, feeling like a civilian from a neutral country that was diving through a warzone as he did so.
Their hotel couldn't come fast enough. The couple continued to bicker the remaining half mile, and Itachi had to fight the urge to pick at his fries. Booze made him hungry.
Thankfully it was only a couple of minutes before they were driven to the drop-off in front of the hotel lobby, and Kisame couldn't seem to move fast enough to get out of the car with the to-go bag clenched in one hand, the other extended to take Itachi's elbow to keep him steady. Itachi felt for the driver, he did, but he was glad that he wasn't that guy as the door shut behind him, only barely muffling the raised voices that continued to shout at each other.
"Alright, you," Kisame clapped him on the butt, "I'm gettin' tired. Let's eat and get in bed."
Itachi would have held his hand if he wasn't holding both of their drinks. Instead, he quickly shifted gears and bounced alongside him as they made their way through the lobby. "Can we watch cartoons?"
Kisame raised an eyebrow, "You wanna watch cartoons?" Usually, Itachi was the one whining and complaining whenever something like The Simpsons or Adventure Time were put on.
Itachi's response was to hop into the elevator and grin.
So fucking cute.
They passed by a handful of other players that also tapped out early, namely Lee and Sakura from Leaf eSports and few famous streamers that were there for an exhibition match, on their way to their room, nodding their hellos. Everyone was exhausted from the tournament preparations and the incessant networking parties – today was their only day to really relax and have fun, so no one felt like conversation by this point.
Well, no one but Itachi. Itachi was offering cheery hellos and bouncing alongside Kisame, tripping every now and then and giving Kisame a goddamn heart attack every time, while babbling incessantly about… Something. Kisame truly and honestly gave a valiant effort to keep up with what Itachi was trying to say but, when he was slipping in and out of different languages and topics, there came a point where Kisame just stopped bothering and offered a half-hearted "yup" and "mhm" every so often.
Eventually, though, it started to get a little annoying. Like, it was cute and all, but Kisame had literally no clue what Itachi was going on about and that left him a little frustrated. So, on a whim, he reached out to squeeze his butt.
Itachi yipped predictably, his one-sided conversation coming to a grinding halt.
Kisame only felt a little guilty.
They were at their room just a couple seconds later, anyways, so Itachi quickly shifted his attention to the food that Kisame was pulling out of the grease-stained paper bag once the door was shut behind him and they had a chance to set everything down on the desk.
Watching Itachi eat with stunted coordination was a treat within itself. He picked up four French fries at once with the tips of his fingers and pushed them into his mouth, wrapping his lips around his fingers and sliding them free. It was like watching a baby try to eat Cheerios for the first time.
Really, everything about Itachi's behavior since they got into the car was reminiscent of a child's. While Kisame polished off his apple slices, keeping an eye on Itachi because he wasn't entirely convinced that he wouldn't choke on the Big Mac he was practically mashing into his face, he idly wondered if alcohol was a means for Itachi to act the way he wasn't allowed to when he was a kid.
Not like Kisame minded. It was a little irritating to listen to him prattle on in different languages, but it was still cute to watch Itachi rock back and forth on the bed and watch Spongebob and suck on the straw of his blue Powerade.
Kisame reached out to run the back of his knuckles down to his hips, and back up to his shoulders. Maybe it was still the booze running through his system, but he felt kind of… Sad.
No, not sad, longing.
How had they never had this conversation before?
"Hey, babe?" When Itachi twisted around to peer over his shoulder, "Do you want kids?"
Setting his half-empty cup aside, Itachi nodded before crawling between his legs. "Do you wanna put a baby in me?"
Kisame snorted and waited for him to get settled against his chest before wrapping his arms around his chest, letting his chin rest on Itachi's shoulder. "Yeah, I wanna put a baby in you."
Itachi hummed with a tired smile. "Good. Let's have lots of babies, Kisame."
Kisame smiled, albeit a little sadly. "How many babies?"
"All of them."
He didn't bother with suppressing his laughter, but toned it down when the sudden jostling earned him an irked glare from Itachi. "All of them?"
Itachi yawned and closed his eyes.
"You sleepy?"
"Mm."
"Let's get a shower, then," Kisame mumbled, patting his thigh, "C'mon."
Itachi groaned and rolled around, kinda sliding down the bed so that his face was smushed in Kisame's belly, "No."
"Babe –"
He slid down even further until he could hide in his groin, "Just let me sleep."
There was a second where Kisame considered just conceding and giving his fiancé what he wanted, but he knew that they would both feel disgusting in the morning with hangovers as it was; they might as well spare themselves the experience of waking up feeling grimy and smelling like booze and cigarettes.
"It'll take like five minutes," Kisame insisted, prying his fingers away from his waist, "If you don't get up, I'll just carry you there."
When he finally wiggled free, Itachi rolled over and faceplanted into the duvet, grumbling something that was lost to the void.
"I'll wash your hair," he offered, "You can even sit on the bench in there."
Itachi peeked up to glare at him. "That rhymed."
"Yes it did." Kisame smacked his butt with both hands. "Now, get up."
It took a couple more minutes of pestering on Kisame's part, mostly using his hold to jiggle his butt and bounce him against the mattress, but Itachi finally relented and let himself be peeled away from the bed and dragged into the bathroom. His enthusiasm seemed to be piqued when Kisame began to undress him, and he returned the favor, if a little clumsily. Kisame was worried that he was going to start flashing those bedroom eyes at him again, but his concerns subsided when Itachi just hugged his waist.
Soft kisses fluttered along his chest.
Kisame sighed and let his head fall back against the wall.
"I'm not afraid of what you'll do to me," Itachi murmured against his skin.
Uh, what?
Kisame looked down at him, brow furrowed. "Hm?"
"You asked 'bout why I drank tonight." Those soft, pretty, slightly dehydrated lips followed the curve of where his tattoo curled around his pec. "It's 'cause I know I don't have to be afraid of what might happen."
All of his insides seemed to melt when Itachi's head turned to rest against his chest. Kisame wasn't sure what exactly did it – the total difference in the way Itachi acted around him compared to when they first started dating, or their plans to put an end to such an enormous part of their lives to start something new together, or how everything felt so right just having him there - but Kisame felt an unfamiliar lightness in his body, a warmth flooding through him, that left his legs feeling almost too weak to support his weight.
Kisame kissed the top of his head, then ran one of his large hands through Itachi's hair to comb his bangs away from his face.
"Kisame?"
"Hm?"
Itachi snuggled a little closer. "I'm sorry I can't carry your babies."
Kisame chuckled low in his chest and secured his arms around his back. "I'm the one that bottoms – wouldn't I be carrying your babies?"
Itachi grinded his forehead into his chest.
"Hey, Itachi –" he nudged his forehead until Itachi met his gaze with his own teary one, which threw Kisame off a bit. "-Are you really upset over this?"
Itachi averted his eyes to the black and white painting of a half-full wine glass that hung on the wall.
"We can't have children," he whispered, a tear slipping free and rolling down a flushed cheek, "And I really want children, Kisame."
"What? Itachi – no – of course we can." Kisame cupped his jaw with one hand, running his calloused thumb under the soft, silky flesh under his eye, "We can adopt all the kids you want, or we can foster, or use a surrogate –"
"I don't want a random woman carrying our baby -!"
"Itachi," Kisame pressed a long, slow kiss to his lips, and didn't pull away until Itachi's breath started to slow, "Let's just take a shower and go to bed. We don't need to have this talk right now." He was definitely regretting bringing it up, as it was.
Another tear trailed down to drip off of Itachi's chin. "But we hav'to talk about these things," he protested around a sob, echoing the same line that Kisame used to use to coax Itachi into talking about things early in their relationship.
He released his jaw to hold him close to his chest, squeezing him tight. "We can talk about it when we're ready to make that step, baby. When we wanna start a family together, we'll sit down and talk about our options."
"But-"
"And when we're sober," Kisame tacked on, because Itachi was still swaying on his feet and he lacked the higher cognitive functions necessary for these kinds of major discussions.
Itachi kissed the bicep that was next to his face. "Do you still wish to get married?"
Kisame chuckled again and kissed his hair. "I'm gay, babe, it's not like anyone else I date is gonna carry my kids." He stepped back, rubbing his palms up and down Itachi's upper arms. "C'mon. Shower time."
Itachi loved watching Kisame sleep.
During the day, Kisame had a habit of making himself larger and louder to project an aura of strength. He would cross his arms over his chest to square out his shoulders, stand with his legs spread, wear an almost unceasing smirk that projected limitless confidence, and spoke a little deeper and a little louder than the other people in the room with him.
Itachi wasn't even sure if he was aware that he was doing it – it seemed so natural for Kisame that it was likely that it was just an automatic defense mechanism.
When he was asleep, though… Kisame was quiet. Soft. The hard set of his jaw relaxed, and the tension in his brow smoothed out as he traded that ruggedness for something softer.
He noticed it when they were alone, too. Kisame let himself be a little more pliable in Itachi's hands when they were talking and Itachi wanted to press piano notes into his skin or play with his fingers, or he didn't bother with pretending that he didn't want to sleep with the lights on after Itachi watched a horror flick.
Itachi traced the outline of his eyebrows with the tip of his finger, smoothing out any tiny hairs that stuck out in the wrong direction. He followed the straight line of his nose, paying no mind to the little bumps of invisible blackheads forming below the skin, and booped the tip with a soft smile.
Through the thin gap between the curtains Itachi could see that the sun had yet to rise; the world was still bathed in a swatch of indigo as the first rays of morning began to glow on the horizon. A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table told Itachi that it was only 6:13, which gave them plenty of time before they had to meet with the rest of the team for breakfast.
He turned his attention back down to the sleeping man snoring softly below him. Part of Itachi wanted to wake him up just to listen to him talk – Kisame liked to share little anecdotes when they were readying themselves to leave the comfort of the bed – but he couldn't stop himself from snuggling back into the covers and pressing himself against his side, twining one of his legs around his. Itachi splayed his fingers over Kisame's abdomen, brushing his fingertips along the developed muscles there as he went through the left hand's motions of Chopin's Nocturne No. 20.
"Mm, that feels nice."
Itachi nestled into the crook of his shoulder when he wrapped one thick arm around him. "Did you sleep well?"
"I always sleep good with you." Kisame's voice was low and husky from sleep, which made Itachi feel all kinds of squirmy.
When he smacked his lips in what was presumably an attempt to swallow, Itachi stopped brushing along his belly to ask, "Would you like some water?"
Itachi didn't remember drinking a massive amount last night, but he still managed to down two of the six dollar water bottles from the mini fridge that would no doubt be taken out of his paycheck. He could only imagine that Kisame was just as thirsty – he definitely noticed the rounds of whooping and cheering from the drinking game he was in with his old teammates.
The room wasn't terribly cold when Itachi slipped out of the covers, as Kisame always set the air conditioning to a comfortable 78, so he wasted a little time to dump five creamer packs into his second cup of coffee that morning before getting back into bed, handing a large bottle of Fiji to his sleepy-eyed partner.
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Just thirsty as shit," Kisame murmured around the spout, "You?"
Itachi propped a few of the pillows up against the headboard so he could sit against it comfortably, smiling when Kisame snuggled into his lap.
"Quite. You took very good care of me last night." Itachi's free hand instinctively threaded itself into his mussed blue hair.
Kisame floundered around for the remote before Itachi saved him from knocking it off of the nightstand by simply handing it to him. "So you actually remember last night?" he joked, flipping through some channels before landing on CNN.
Itachi flicked him in the ear. "I did not drink that much," he tutted.
"Do you remember asking me to impregnate you?"
"Do not think I will not drop this coffee on your face, Kisame."
"And ruin these good looks?"
Itachi pursed his lips. He was quite fond of Kisame's face.
A comfortable silence fell between them for the next few minutes as they sipped away at their drinks. In spite of Kisame's best efforts, Itachi had yet to give up his taste for sugary, creamer-laden coffee, so it didn't take very long for him to find himself quite awake and alert while Kisame made idle comments about various news stories around yawns.
Once the water bottle was emptied, Kisame chucked it onto the floor and practically melted into Itachi's lap, snaking one arm around his hip.
"We still have plenty of time," Itachi murmured, scratching lightly at his scalp, "Why not go back to sleep for a couple of hours?"
"Thinking about goin' to the gym."
Itachi made a face. "With a hangover?"
Kisame rolled onto his back to look up at him with a grin. "Unless you have a better idea of where I can get some cardio in."
"I am not kissing your foul morning breath."
"Well if all I gotta do is brush my teeth -!" Kisame pushed himself up and rolled off of the bed with as little grace as one could imagine, hopping a little when he lost his balance before making long strides towards the door.
Itachi rolled his eyes but didn't stop himself from chuckling into his mug.
He continued to watch the news as the light squeaking of the faucet preceded the sound of water rushing into the sink. CNN was talking about Obama's rising approval ratings. Not the most riveting piece, but it was a step up from the story on the pug from Idaho that received some sort of commemorative hero award.
His mouth felt a little sticky from all of the sugar, so Itachi was digging through the mini fridge for another bottle of water when a hand skimmed along his spine to rest at the spin of his back. Itachi wiggled his hips a little to goad him into giving him a light spank. A cheeky grin plastered onto his face, Itachi straightened up and cracked the plastic cap of the bottle off.
"Do I get my kiss now?"
He raised an eyebrow and took a long swig of water. "I don't recall promising you anything."
Kisame wasn't having any of it, though, and took the bottle away from his lips to set it on top of the desk so he could bring their faces together.
"Kisame –" Another kiss cut him off.
"Kisa –"
"Kisame!" Itachi laughed and put his hands on his chest to push him away, but the arms Kisame had locked around his waist were like bars of iron that kept him imprisoned to his chest.
"Yes, sweetie? Snookums? Light-of-my-life? Would you like something?" Kisame's lips stretched into a smirk against his cheek. "More kisses?"
A stream of giggles that Itachi couldn't quite suppress bubbled past his lips as wet, sloppy kisses were pressed up and down his neck and face. "Kisame!"
"Itachi!"
Kisame hoisted him up by the waist and all but launched him onto the bed. Itachi shrieked and bounced against the mattress, unable to stabilize himself before Kisame was crawling on top of him to rain down a smattering of kisses that left the bare surface of his chest and shoulders spackled with spit. Itachi pushed weakly at the arms holding him down, writhing and kicking his legs in a futile attempt at getting away from the man that was nipping at his neck and licking long, wet stripes over every inch of skin he could reach.
"Christ – you're a dog!"
"I can be," Kisame chuckled against his clavicle, pressing his hips down enough to make Itachi's lashes flutter.
Amicable laughter simmered down into happy, smiled sighs. Calloused hands smoothed up the sides of his body until they were pushing Itachi's arms up over his head, pinning his hands into the pillows. Kisses slowed from rapid peppering to long and drawn-out, lips molding to one another like wet clay.
Itachi's eyes closed as Kisame's breath ghosted over his jaw. Their fingers laced together. They shifted along one another, rolling their hips in a slow, grinding motion.
A thin string of saliva connected their lips when they parted to look at one another, Kisame's tongue flitting out to clean it away from his lip when it snapped in the middle.
A billowing calm wrapped around them, like a warm blanket straight out of the dryer. It settled over them to shield them from any part of the outside world, soothing the nerves Itachi didn't even know he had, and encouraging his breathing to even out. He slipped his hands free to flatten them over Kisame's chest.
So warm…
"Take me, Kisame."
The blue eyes that never ceased in leaving him floored widened in surprise. Kisame was silent.
"… What?"
A shy smile graced his features.
Hesitation brewed in Kisame's gaze, which searched his for a very long moment. Itachi could almost see every thought that passed through his head, every question that made itself known, and he tried to help him relax by running his palms up to his shoulders, then back down, then back up.
It didn't seem to help, though. Kisame's entire face was filled with tension.
"I…" Kisame's brow furrowed, and he shook his head. "No… No, I can't."
Itachi blinked. He… Was not expecting that.
"I mean, I want to – baby, I want to so bad," Kisame explained, his voice faltering as his heart raced beneath Itachi's hand, "Just… Not here. Not in a hotel room – not during a tournament."
Dark eyes narrowed in confusion. "We had sex during DreamHack."
"I know, and…"Kisame frowned. He shifted and lowered himself onto the bed so that he was nestled against Itachi's side. "It was different, then. I don't want this to be in some spontaneous thing, in a random hotel room with a hangover and with fuckin' Pussygate 2016 playing in the background. I want it to be special."
If Itachi were entirely honest with himself, he would have admitted that hearing his response bothered him. He didn't want Kisame to feel like sex meant something less when it was him bottoming, rather than Itachi – as if he didn't deserve to be treated with special care. Itachi knew that it took a lot for him to get over the stigma attached to being on the receiving end of sex and, even if he genuinely enjoyed it, he initially only did it as a compromise so the two could be intimate.
Itachi cupped his jaw to guide his face up for a kiss.
"Your sex matters, too, Kisame," he murmured into his mouth.
"I kn…" Kisame stopped himself and averted his gaze.
"You have been infinitely patient with me, so I have no problem with waiting a while longer until you're ready –" Itachi paused to brush their lips together in a fleeting kiss "- But do not trivialize what we share simply because of how we share it."
Kisame's lips parted as if to say something, only to close back up. After a few moments,
"Did I hurt you in the hospital church?"
Itachi frowned. "Of course you didn't." Did he forget how, afterwards, all he had to do was lick Itachi's cock for him to come?
Kisame was silent.
"Kisame, I would not fake enjoyment for you," Itachi explained, raising himself on his hands so he could get a better look at his face, "I promised that I would let you know if you did anything to upset me, did I not?"
"You did, but…" Kisame sighed, "It was so out of the blue, and violent –"
"It was not violent," Itachi quickly cut him off, using the hand still on his jaw to force Kisame to meet his piercing gaze, "I was in need of a distraction to pull me out of an overwhelming situation. You provided me with that. My throat was sore afterwards, but that in no way implies that you were ever violent with me."
Had this been bothering him this entire time?
"I pushed you down to your knees, baby. I restrained you."
"Plenty of couples experiment with kink. What we –" Itachi made sure to remind him that it was something they both consented to – "Did was nothing out of the ordinary. You're best friends with Zabuza and Haku – "
Kisame's jaw flexed. "Haku wasn't raped."
Itachi frowned. "Are you saying that, because I was, I cannot enjoy those moments with you?"
"No! I just…" Kisame released a sharp sigh and peeled himself out of his embrace in order to push himself into a sitting position. His shoulders, normally broad and straight with confidence, were slumped forward. "Remember when we made out at the gym the first time? When Deidara walked in to keep us from getting busted?"
Of course he did. It was the moment that sparked a previously dormant passion for exercising at the gym – because it almost always ended with the two of them tearing away each others' clothes in the private changing rooms while their teammates were still on the floor.
"You were into it, but you still had a panic attack, like, a minute later."
… Oh.
"I felt like I forced you into something you didn't want – and with the chapel, I just…" Kisame ran a hand through his tousled hair, "I'm… Waiting for it. Waiting for the crash."
Oh, Kisame…
This entire time, they had been focused on Itachi's healing as he moved on from the trauma of being attacked; they had never put much of a focus on what kind of headspace their dynamic put Kisame in.
"I just wish you'd yell at me, or something. 'N let me know I did something wrong."
"You didn't do anything wrong, though," Itachi said with earnest, repositioning himself so that he was sitting on his feet, "Kisame, I have no desire to yell at you – I want to do it again."
Finally, Kisame looked up. "You do..?"
Glad to finally have piqued his interest, Itachi shuffled closer so he could hug his thick arm to his chest, resting his head on his shoulder.
"I do." Among several other filthy things that would make a KinkMen actor blush, several of which involving the vast array of toys in his nightstand drawer.
Several of which involving the vast array of toys in his nightstand drawer being used on Kisame.
Itachi's dick stirred at the prospect of introducing Kisame to sounds; he shifted his hips away with enough subtlety to not draw attention to the swelling bulge in his trunks.
"We can discuss the specifics later," he muttered into his shoulder, "As long as you are aware that there is plenty I would like to explore with you, including what we did in the chapel."
Kisame still looked unsure of himself until Itachi's hand directed him into another kiss. The muscles that quivered with tension finally relaxed as he returned the kiss, easing up with every passing moment until they both found themselves entangled in one another's bodies.
Their hands skimmed over each other in exploration for invisible textures and sensitive areas that they both still had yet to discover, running through long hair and following familiar ink patterns. Quiet sighs joined between as the sensations of being held and caressed allowed a familiar comfort to envelop them.
Strong arms pulled gently on Itachi's waist to coax him into following when Kisame rolled onto his back, settling between strong thighs that parted invitingly for him. His palms smoothed over that tight waist, paying little mind to the way their skin tones contrasted so sharply against one another, as his lips skimmed along Kisame's collar. Itachi kissed every inch of dark skin that he could reach, gently squeezing swells of muscle and tracing his fingertips along his sacral plexus by memory just to feel him twitch.
Thick, rough fingers threaded themselves into Itachi's hair, which spilled around his shoulders like liquid ink, when he nuzzled his cheek into the subtle curve of Kisame's iliac fossa like a cat.
Kisame chuckled, covering his face with his free arm.
"I asked you to marry me, and we've still got so much to work out," he grumbled with half-hearted humor.
Itachi slid back up his body to lay over his torso, folding his hands over his chest and resting his chin on them. "We have three years to figure everything out, chief."
Kisame's arms snaked around his waist and Itachi set his head down with a happy sigh, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He snorted.
"Did you really call it 'Pussygate 2016'?"
Kisame's chest bounced with a quiet laugh. "Got it from the internet."
"You are so crass."
"Get used to it, baby. You signed on for life."
They stayed like that until Nagato came knocking on their door to take them to the stadium.
Note: The Lyft thing actually happened to me at PAX Prime and it was kinda horrifying lol. Also, the video thing is based off of a lot of promo videos you see for major esports tournaments. If you've never seen one, I suggest watching a League of Legends world championship trailer for reference. They're pretty boss.