A/N: POV switches halfway through.

He's not sure when, exactly, his feelings towards his little brother began to change- expand, but he wakes up one morning with the viscerally clear knowledge that they have done so.

When Sasuke runs up to him and throws his arms around his waist as he does most mornings, smiling up at him with wide, joyful eyes, entirely unassuming, like there's no-one else he'd rather be near, the wave of self-loathing that pushes through his veins and settles heavy in the pit of his stomach is near enough to knock him off his feet.

He steels himself against the heartbreak he knows he's about to see shining up out of his brother's eyes and steps back, detangling himself from Sasuke with a cheap smile and an even cheaper promise of another day, perhaps. Walking away feels like leaving a part of himself behind. Something irreparable.

Really, it shouldn't feel so large as it does, it should be easier to compartmentalize, walk away and stay in the moment, that's something he's always been good at, but then again, his brother has always made him soft, so maybe it's no surprise. He's always been the one thing that allowed him the vulnerability of shutting down his instincts. A vulnerability he can no longer afford.

Sometimes, he's weak.

Some days he misses his brother too much to resist contact. It's never much, he won't allow it, but he'll send some inane message or other just to see that Sasuke's read it. To see that he still cares enough to open Itachi's messages at all, if not enough to respond to them.

It shouldn't please him to see that he does.

Sasuke hating him, it's what he wants, really- no. No, that's not right. It's not what he wants at all, but it's what he knows is best for both of them, to have his little brother push him as far away as he can stomach. All the same, knowing it's for the best doesn't quell the hurt or longing that makes his chest feel as though it's caving in when he lets his thoughts linger over what they've become- what he's turned them into- a little too long.

On the rare occasion he does see his brother, it's always difficult to say which reaction wins out between the relief of seeing him and guilt that comes along with the renewed depth of his longing- as if it ever truly fades. As if he isn't consumed by it and motivated by the guilty revulsion of it, of himself, in everything he does.

It's no different this time around, though, he feels somehow more at peace about it.

One day the realization hits him with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs- he can't continue, not like this, he needs to be home, see his brother, if only briefly. He misses him so, so dearly, and while his wants haven't faded, they have dulled. He's faced them for years, now, it's not so impossible to think that maybe- perhaps he can manage this, now. They'll never be as close as they were, but if he's careful maybe they can be brothers, again, at least. They can manage that much.

So, he goes home. It's only a few days, but it's something.

He wishes he could say he keeps his resolve, keeps the same confidence in the new control he's gained over his impulses, but- he can't. The moment he sees his brother, hardly willing to look his way, something crumbles in his chest at the burning need to pull him close that hollows him out, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. Nothing has changed. He has not changed.

He's come too far to let himself become weak, now.

That night, he writes a letter.

A few months later, his parents announce that they're planning a family vacation, he only agrees to go because he fully intends for this to be the last time he sees anyone in his family for a long, long time. He's been offered the opportunity to further pursue his studies under someone top in his field, and he intends to accept as soon as he's back home. Less to advance his career, though that will be his reasoning for everyone else, and more because the position will take him overseas, far enough to make convenient visits near impossible.

It's comforting, in a way. It takes a little weight off of his shoulders, knowing he only has to get through this visit and then he won't have to worry about his- desires, for at least a few years. He has the fleeting thought that perhaps, this visit, he can relax, just a little.

As has become his habit, Sasuke makes quick work of dashing his hopes.

Something is off.

His brother has always drawn the eye, his own and many others, and Itachi does not resist looking near as hard or often as he should. Because of this, he doesn't look away as knows he ought to when he gets caught appreciating the graceful curve of his brother's neck, on display as Sasuke tilts his head back against the cushioned bench of the restaurant their parents have dragged them out to.

The low light casts shadows that compliment him particularly well, though sometimes it's hard to imagine there's much at all that could diminish his brother's good looks.

Instead of looking away, Itachi meets his brother's gaze with a beatificial smile, only partly forced, and expects him to simply scowl and look away as he always has, in recent years. That's not what happens, though. Sasuke matches his look head on, making no effort to soften or sharpen his expression, he simply stares back.

It makes something buried deep under Itachi's skin crawl with uncertainty.

He doesn't know, of course, he can't possibly- could never know. It's impossible, he knows this.

Still, Itachi is the first to drop his gaze.

He sits up on his computer, going over various research notes without truly considering any of the words in front of him, just an excuse to kill time and occupy his mind. He waits until the house has gone silent, and then allows his paranoid habits to take hold, kneeling by the small bedside table and removing the false bottom from the drawer with his heart in his throat.

The letters are gone.

It's sheer survival that forces him to relax when Sasuke appears in his doorway. He leans back against the desk, minutely comforted by the knowledge that he's sure enough of himself to appear causal, rather than unsteady as he feels. He tightens his grip on the desk behind him just to stay upright against the panic swelling in his chest, threatening to tear him apart.

His ability to stay composed doesn't last long, regardless.

"Is that one for me, too?" Sasuke's face could almost be innocent- all in those wide eyes, if it weren't for the way the tone of his voice betrays what Itachi can't bring himself to acknowledge, just yet. He does his best to curb the panic clawing its way up his throat when he asks what, exactly, Sasuke means, but it comes out as more a demand, much less than the casual inquiry he'd hoped it would come off as. Not so easy. It only serves to throw him further off kilter, he's not used to having to struggle in deceit.

"Don't worry, Itachi," Sasuke steps closer, so close. Closer than they've been in years and the adrenalin heightens his senses to the point it feels impossible to be aware of anything but the collapsing in his chest and the proximity of his brother- he's certain if he just got a little closer he'd be able to feel the body heat he can see in the flush of his brother's cheeks. The opposing strengths of the needs to pull away versus the need to reach out- it leaves him feeling sick with the urgent need to do something, the paralyzing fear of exactly that.

Up close like this, he can see the details of his brother's face- one he's grown into more than Itachi has had the chance to observe- nearer than he has since he was a child. It aches, to see all the time he's missed written over the face of the person he loves most.

Sasuke's fingers brush against his own, and the way the touch makes his nerves sing is almost intense enough to stop him from hearing what he says next. Almost.

"I'll put it with the rest."

Sasuke leaves, and he wouldn't even be aware of his brother's name being torn from his own throat if it weren't for the way Sasuke's step falters ever so slightly, not enough to stop him, though. The door slides shut behind him, and Itachi is left alone with his greatest shame. He has failed them both.

He has done all he could- he has built his entire life around protecting his brother. Given up years of closeness, chosen his school, his work, his home- all to protect Sasuke. All to stop him from discovering this one thing, and in the end the one piece of sentiment he allowed himself has ruined him. Ruined them both.

Ruined his brother, who never should've had to bear the weight of what Itachi has become. The things he feels. It was bad enough to let him be effected at all- to push him away and see the hurt he felt reflected in his own heart- this, though, is something else entirely. Something worse.

Itachi is no coward, he doesn't shy away from doing something difficult simply because it is so, he doesn't put himself first, but- he cannot bring himself to face this. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

He lays awake and tries to breathe through the weight of what he's done crushing his lungs from the inside out, trying and failing to convince himself to go to Sasuke's room and face this head on. It feels impossible.

He can't imagine- he is at a loss. What can he do, now? What could he possibly say? How can the situation be salvaged?

The simple answer is that it cannot.

He will follow his little brother's lead, until he thinks of something- anything else. If Sasuke wishes to expose him, cut him from his life entirely, humiliate him- he cannot think of much he wouldn't deserve.

◼︎

He doesn't miss the deepened shadows under Itachi's eyes the next morning. More than anything, it makes him want to put him out of his misery, pull his brother close and run his fingers along the creases etched below his eyes, set his mind at ease, but he can't- not yet. Luckily, it also makes him want to poke and prod- tease, just a little, among other things. That's the course of action he chooses to pursue.

They're alone in the kitchen, Itachi doesn't look up when he sits next to him, close enough for their elbows to brush, but he feels him go still at the touch. It's near imperceptible in how brief it is, but he knows his brother well, he's already looking for it.

They eat in silence, and when Sasuke finishes his breakfast he lets himself stretch, just a little, nothing unseemly, simply pulling back his shoulders with a sigh and stretching his legs out ever so slightly. Itachi still won't look at him, but he doesn't miss the deepening misery in the set of his shoulders. It makes him ache in more ways than one.

He doesn't entirely love causing Itachi this hurt, but he does love the knowledge that he has the power to do so, whenever he wants, in such simple ways.

It's his own good luck that their father is called away on an urgent business errand during a game of shogi with Itachi, just as Sasuke happens to be passing by. Fugaku prompts him to take his place and he accepts without hesitation, taking his father's seat before Itachi can find a reason to leave. Though, he does try.

"Excuse me, Sasuke." Itachi's voice is too even as he moves to stand. It makes him itch with the need to throw him off balance. "I'm afraid I can't-"

"No." He's reached out to stop his brother before Itachi could rise fully to his feet, hand tight around his wrist. "Don't go."

They're both staring down at Sasuke's grip over his wrist. It's the first time in years they've really, deliberately touched, the first time it's been more than a fleeting glance of skin over skin. It startles out a more honest plea than he'd meant to give. "I've- missed you. Brother." He clears his throat, hoping to dispel the lingering nervousness that it's his own balance he's ruined. "Please, stay."

Their eyes meet briefly, but significantly enough to feel what passes between them. Sasuke wonders what Itachi sees in his face- tension, reluctance, pleading- ultimately, it doesn't matter, the result is the same. Sasuke loosens his hold, and Itachi sits as he pulls his hand back entirely.

They play for a long time before Itachi breaks the silence between them. There's a careful quality of nothingness to his voice when he speaks.

"Did you truly miss me?"
"You know I did."

More silence.

"Will you, still?"

Itachi's voice has changed so subtly he has to wonder if he's merely imagined it. Sasuke swallows hard around the lump that's risen in his throat.

"Always."

His brother looks stricken.

They carry out the rest of their game without speaking another word to each other, when Itachi leaves Sasuke stays where he is, staring out at the property for what feels like too long. The sky has gone dark by the time he moves.

Things are not going quite as he's planned, but while he's packing that night in preparation for their flight tomorrow morning, he considers the fact that it will almost certainly be a good opportunity. His parents have booked two first class cabins, each with a two person capacity. One for themselves, one for he and Itachi.

There will be nowhere for Itachi to run off to, no excuse to ignore him, not much in the way of distraction.

It's perfect. Perfect enough that tamping down the nerves that swell under his skin is more than a bit of a struggle. Some days it's hard to tell which of them he's causing more problems for.

This isn't- it's not quite fun, like he thought it might be, but it does make him feel good, in a way. It's addicting. He can feel the way his brother wants him, see how easy it might be to make him bend with a little pushing. He's never imagined that he- or anyone- could have such control over his brother. Craved it, but never truly believed it.

It's too intoxicating to let go of that control just yet.

Itachi is avoiding him, even more so than before. As much as he can manage while being shuffled through various airport lines and shuttles, that is. He's almost grateful for it, his frustration with his brother makes it easier to refocus himself. Push away his own conflicted feelings and remind himself of the goal he's been quickly losing sight of.

It's clear that their parents assume that they must be pleased to be spending the flight together, they have no reason to think otherwise, and Sasuke sees it as a perfect chance to needle at his brother's controlled exterior. They're seated at the gate when Mikoto asks if it's nice to finally be able to spend some time together after so long, and Sasuke leans full body against his brother, head dropped onto his shoulder.

"Can't wait." He says with a smile, savouring the feel of the most minute shiver run through his brother.

It's rare for Itachi to show his nerves, and Sasuke wonders if they're truly so clear, or if they've just become easier to see now that he knows, beyond a doubt, that they must be there. Perhaps he's not showing them at all, and Sasuke is only seeing what he knows is there, regardless.

It makes no real difference.

They're a couple hours into the flight when Sasuke calls the flight attendant to have their chairs folded down and made up into a bed. He doesn't ask beforehand and when Itachi sends a sharp look his way, he just shrugs and affects what he suspects is a less than innocent smile, going by the way it feels across his lips.

Once they've settled on opposite ends of the bed, Sasuke waits for Itachi to settle back into his book before he brushes his ankle against his older brother's. Itachi moves his foot away without even a look.

Sasuke does it again.

Itachi moves, again.

Something deeply childish and just a little giddy is bubbling up behind his ribs, delighted to have found such a simple and, honestly, juvenile way to rile his brother up. He knows how Itachi hates to be brought down, made undignified, and there's little less dignified than a grown man and his almost equally grown brother squabbling like children, especially in their- situation.

He brushes his ankle against his brother's again, and sees Itachi's knuckles go white around the book he's holding. He manages to hold back the grin that wants to spring free over his face, but only just. He shifts his ankle to the side again, and this time Itachi huffs quite pointedly as he shuffles away. Sasuke has to bite his cheek to keep from giving anything away when he does it yet again.

"Sasuke." Itachi's tone is almost scolding and while that does hold a certain new appeal that warrants further exploration, it's not what he's focused on, right now.

"Itachi." Sasuke replies, polite to the point of patronizing, though he'll never admit it.

The look Itachi sends him should probably make him feel a bit worse than it does- it's conflicted, certainly. He looks like he wants to glare, but he's not sure he can allow himself to, given- everything. Sasuke finds it deeply amusing.

He moves again and Itachi's book drops onto his lap, this time there is no hesitance in his voice.

" Sasuke. " The only exception to the childish glee that fills Sasuke at the annoyance in his brother's voice is the way his heartbeat ticks up just a little more than warranted.

"Itachi." He replies, again, still too pleased with himself for his own good. It seems strange, to say he's missed something so ridiculous as testing his brother's patience, but he truly has, though as a child he'd never done this quite so insidiously as he is now.

Naturally, he does it again.

"Cut it out, Sasuke." Itachi warns, and it only spurs him to do it again.

"I only want to be close to you, brother." Sasuke says, half pleading, faux innocent, and definitely not fooling either of them. Itachi looks torn between kicking him and throwing himself out of the plane to avoid the situation entirely. When Sasuke does it again, he tosses his book to the side, a lost cause, and grabs his ankle to still him, grip firm, voice hard when he speaks.

"What are you doing, Sasuke?"

Sasuke- Sasuke can't seem to think past the slide of his brother's thumb drawing over the curved bone of his ankle well enough to form much in the way of coherent thought, let alone put together a decent answer. He knows he's staring at the movement, and when he finally looks up to meet Itachi's eyes, that's when his older brother seems to catch himself at what he's doing. He pauses, and for a moment they both go still, staring. Waiting.

It feels like his heart is being held in a vice, weight pressing down on his chest as he anticipates- something. Anything. The pull of his brother so near, so focused on him, it's almost magnetic. The knowledge that he can't even- shouldn't reach out and touch him like he wants to-

More deliberately, this time, Itachi's thumb traces the swell of bone under his skin. The intensity in his eyes is- intimidating- not entirely unexpected, but certainly unsettling, to say the least. When he speaks, there's a vulnerability clinging to his voice that's somehow even more destabilizing.

"What is it you think you're doing, little brother?"

"I-" Sasuke swallows, throat suddenly gone dry and raw with nerves. "I don't-"

This is the moment that their mother chooses to appear, sliding open the flimsy partition of their cabin to check in on them. Sasuke startles badly enough to feel sharp pain lance out through his nerves, but he doesn't let it show. Nor does Itachi, assuming he felt it anything approaching equally. He suspects so. Hopes so.

The plan was to make Itachi lose his footing, and while he's fairly sure it's working, he seems to be dragging himself down right along with him.

Itachi excuses himself to use the washroom, and Sasuke has the bed folded back into chairs by the time he comes back.

Eventually, he drifts off, and while he's almost certain he feels cool fingers drifting across his temple, smoothing his hair down and away from his face, he can't bring himself to turn it into ammunition in this game he's created. He lets it be, appreciates the half-dreamed touch.

They are, of course, sharing a room. Their parents have rented out a suite, two bedrooms, three beds. One is entirely their own, one is for Itachi and Sasuke to share, as usual.

Itachi lets him have first pick of the beds, but he's back to refusing to meet his eyes and it doesn't feel like any kind of win at all.

Very little time ends up being spent in the hotel room, or apart from their parents, so Sasuke makes due with the situations he's given. Pushing Itachi's buttons where he can, sitting too close, leaning into his space with whatever inane question he can get away with, wearing his shirts mostly undone and pleased to find he gets away with it quite nicely, the weather being what it is.

He's getting dressed for a morning intended to be spent mostly wandering through some local markets when he spots one of Itachi's shirts peeking out of his suitcase. He can't resist.

The fit is a little loose, but it flows nicely, feels soft and obscenely expensive over his skin, though, the best part of all is the way his brother's scent lingers, clinging to the fabric just enough to stir up a warmth in his abdomen that has nothing at all to do with the sunny skies.

When Itachi sees him in it, he's half expecting- anything, really. A scolding, a- well, anything.

Instead, Itachi just stares for a long moment, face unreadable, and vanishes into their room- where he'd already been headed without saying a word as Sasuke wanders out to the living room to meet their parents.

His brother has always looked at him, but today he feels his gaze lingering like a physical touch. He's not certain whether it's that he no longer cares to hide it, or that he's unable to.

He hopes it's the latter.

He expects to have more trouble sleeping than he does, between the heat and his brother being so nearby, but rather than keeping him on edge Itachi's soft breathing and the white noise of the fan lull him to sleep quite easily.

Judging by the deepening circles under his brother's eyes, he's the only one to be so lucky.

He can't help Itachi to sleep, but he can, perhaps, make his nights a little more enjoyable.

Sasuke feigns sleep until just past three. He knows his brother is still awake, his breathing having never quite settled enough to pass for asleep, sincere or fake.

He's lying mostly on his stomach, leg slung over one of his pillows with his arms folded under the one his head rests on, and he lets out a soft, drawn out noise, somewhere between a moan and a groan, feels the scratch of his throat as he rocks his hips down into the pillow. His voice has already gone rough with a few hours of disuse.

He rocks into the pillow until the sound of Itachi's breath in the other bed has stopped altogether and he can't stand the warm, thick pressure that's building and tensing in his gut a moment longer without some decent relief. With a whine that's only half-deliberate he kicks off the blankets and drags a hand out from under his pillow and down to palm at his stiffening cock through the thin cotton of his underwear.

He feels electrified and humiliatingly aroused by the knowledge of his brother's closeness.

When he rolls onto his back, giving up all pretence of sleep to be able to get himself off properly, he lets his head fall to the side and immediately finds Itachi's eyes boring into his own. The heaviness in his eyes seems to sink into Sasuke's own gut like led, hit all at once with the severity of what they're doing and the fathomless force of his own desire for it. The comprehension of how little he cares about as long as he can have this.

That's all it takes to send him over the edge and he chokes on his own grunt of release, body going stiff and achingly hot all over as he spills over his own stomach, cock peeking out from his waistband. He only barely manages to keep working himself through his orgasm as his muscles seize up.

He's not sure at what point he closed his eyes, but when he opens them again, feeling boneless and raw, Itachi is gone.

He showers quick, scrubbing at his skin hard enough it's near ready to bleed, and tries to focus on anything but the hollow feeling in his chest. The fact that his brother is still gone when he goes back to bed.

He doesn't sleep. Itachi doesn't come back.

When he leaves the room to meet his parents for breakfast, his brother is there, not looking particularly well rested, but there nonetheless. To Sasuke, he feels wrong. The way he holds himself- the set of his eyes- everything, but no one else seems to have caught onto the fact that something is- off. As off as it is, at least.

Things between them are- strange. Everything about them has been strange for a long, long time, but this isn't like any of that. There's something about the tension that seems almost suspiciously absent that's set Sasuke's nerves on edge. A contradiction he doesn't appreciate. There's just something about the exhausted set of his bones that has guilt gnawing at his gut.

He's only half aware of the conversation happening without him, until his mother taps him on the elbow.

"Are you feeling alright, Sasuke?" She asks, gently. He looks around to find his mother and father both looking at him with concerned eyes, Itachi seems to be focused on some inane point in the wallpaper. "I'm- fine. It's just the heat, don't worry about it."

"Perhaps it's for the best you rest today, Sasuke." His father suggests, though, it's more than a suggestion, really. Regardless, it's well meant, and he appreciates it in a distant way, mind mostly preoccupied.

"Mhmm. It works out quite well, with Itachi spending the day off on his own, your father and I can have a day to ourselves." She turns her attention back to his father as they both agree that yes, a day to themselves would be quite nice, indeed, but Sasuke's mind is stuck on the fact that Itachi has, apparently, already made plans for himself.

A part of him wants to argue, grab hold of Itachi and refuse to let him leave his sight. He's- scared, he thinks, that Itachi might be about to slip through his fingers somehow. Scared he's pushed this game too far and now the tiredness in his brother's eyes has grown bone deep in a way he can't salvage.

It's that fear which pushes him so sickeningly far into indecision that he says nothing at all.

He spends all day feeling listless, too lost in his own confused thoughts to make sense of anything, nauseous anxiety crawling its way under his skin with the way his mind feels caught on a loop. He can't stand the feeling. He loathes it.

It seems impossible to say what he should've done- impossible to think there ever could be a way to go about doing something that is, at its core, so wrong, the right way- but still. This- this may not have been the brilliant plan he'd hoped it would be.

Sasuke is sitting at one of the small desks in their room, killing time on his laptop to stave off the feelings of dread that've been biting at his heels all day. He's almost convinced himself Itachi isn't coming back tonight, either, when his brother slips in the door. Something about the way he does it makes Sasuke think he must've been standing outside for more than a moment.

Sasuke can't breathe- too caught up in waiting to see what Itachi will do next. His brother seems to wobble for a moment, letting himself half collapse back against the door without any real focus until his eyes land on Sasuke and his face twists up into an expression that makes Sasuke's heart ache in both the best and worst ways.

Itachi immediately lurches forward, less steady than Sasuke's ever seen him, stumbling towards the desk. He's been more or less able to smell the liquor wafting off of his brother from the moment he stepped into the room, but he can't bring himself to be bothered by it when Itachi is collapsing at his feet, clinging to his legs as he himself likely did to Itachi as a child.

Sasuke is horrified to find he sounds so near to tears, such a heavy warble to his voice when he speaks.

"I'm- I'm so sorry, little brother." Itachi chokes out. He's closer to ruin than he's ever seen or heard him. Sasuke bends to take Itachi's face in his hands, not sure when they started trembling, but his brother flinches away from his touch, swaying dangerously. "Don't- please. Sasuke, don't touch me. You can't- I'm wrong. There's something so wrong with me." Sasuke wishes he could believe the sob that nearly breaks Itachi's words was imagined. "You deserve so much better." He trails off, muttering a thousand ugly things to himself.

Sasuke- Sasuke feels like he's suffocating. He never should've pushed like he did. Dragged this out like he did.

This time, when he reaches out to steady his brother, he doesn't give Itachi a chance to flinch away. Something like relief, if a little mournful around the edges, seems to radiate inwards, saturating his fingers and traveling up to warm his chest.

He wants to tell his brother that it's not true- say there's nothing wrong with him, wrong with this. Unfortunately, neither of them are foolish enough to find any comfort in a lie so stark.

"There's no one better than you. Not for me." Itachi's eyes rise to meet his, and the way his eyes shine up at him- he's- he won't know what to do, if Itachi cries. He's never seen his brother cry, not even when they were children. He's not entirely sure he wants to be the one to make it happen.

It doesn't appear as though he has a choice.

The shine of his eyes overflows, and Sasuke brushes the tears away with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, Itachi."

"No. No, no, Sasuke, that's not right." He's reaching up, wrapping his hands around Sasuke's arms, and he half expects him to try and pull his hands away but instead he holds them it a grip so tight it's almost a plea to stay, a direct contradiction to his words. "You have nothing to apologize for. It's me who-"

"Everything I did-" Sasuke tries, but Itachi just keeps speaking.

"-I deserved it. I did. Push me away, please. I can't- anymore." A shuddering breath seems to wrack his entire body. Sasuke feels he can almost see the energy drain for him as he shrinks when the air leaves him. "I'd understand." He continues, quieter, less frantic, finally dropping his eyes. "I'm disgusting. You should hate me. I do. You should- you should want me dead-"

He feels guilt, thick and heavy, churning in his gut as he slips out of the chair and sinks down into his brother's lap, prompting a choked off sob from Itachi as he falls somewhere between the obligation to flinch back and the need to be close. Sasuke takes the choice from him as he leans his forehead against his brother's and lets his hands slip down through his hair, over his shoulders to wrap around him and keep him close.

"Itachi, stop."

Everything about the situation is objectively, inarguably awful, but everything inside him still sings at the closeness of his brother after so many years of near estrangement.

"I'm sorry." Itachi whispers, the bone deep exhaustion Sasuke had been able to see in his eyes this morning seeming to seep out through his voice and into their shared touch, setting into Sasuke's own body.

"Come on," Sasuke sighs. "We can talk more in the morning. Bed, now. You need to sleep."

It's a bit of a struggle, but he manages to get Itachi to cooperate so he can get him stripped down to his underwear, gentle, but not willing to linger too long. This isn't how he wants anything to happen, when they finally breach that boundary he wants it to be- different, is all.

Once Itachi's clothes are gone, he loses his own and crawls in after him, pulling the blankets up over them. He half expects Itachi to protest, to push him away, spewing more talk about how awful he is and how wrong they are, but instead Itachi says nothing, just pulls him in close, hands desperate and searching like he thinks he might never get to touch him again.

Really, if Sasuke thinks about it, that's likely exactly what he thinks.

He pushes as close as he can, burying his face in Itachi's neck and lets his brother hold him as he hasn't since he was a child. He brings his hands up and around the play with his hair, the same way he used to, and it's just as soft as he remembers. Six years of missing each other poured into the embrace.

Even under the circumstances, the relief at finally, finally being allowed to be close to his brother, to feel loved- for all it consumed his mind, Sasuke's not sure he realized just how much he needed it until now, this simple closeness. This clarity of love, however twisted it's become.

They're both near to nodding off when Sasuke whispers into the hollow of Itachi's neck, lips tingling where they brush over his skin.

"I love you, Itachi. I could never- I won't love anyone else the way I love you."

"I wish you would."

"No, you don't."

It's silent so long Sasuke thinks Itachi may have fallen asleep, but he hears it just as he's drifting away into unconsciousness, himself.

"No. I don't."