"So, about that ancient healing technique," he started with a raised brow. I quickly covered my face, as if it would make his next question bounce off me. Spoiler alert; it did not.
"You mentioned that you only just learned it... I'm just curious who taught you such a thing." He peeled my hands away, forcing me to look at his impossibly charming face which, to my surprise, held quite a humorous appearance at the moment. "So I know who to thank," he followed up.
Okay, so he doesn't seem too hurt after all… Odd.
"Sasori…" I admitted.
"Ah, I see," Itachi said with a nod.
"And, well… Hidan I guess," I added reluctantly. That one didn't get me an entertained nod. That one got me a slightly furrowed brow. I decided not to tack on Deidara's name as well. He bit his lip in thinking as he regarded me in the manner a shogi player studies the board, like he wanted to make a play but needed to assess the risk of the moves that might follow. Quietly clicking his tongue to finally say something, he appeared to settle on his move.
So we're still playing this game...
"So, of your colorful variety of injuries..." he began in a low, baritone voice, taking my hands in his to examine the palms, his brow still held together tightly and eyes steadily roving across me.
"You've received this same healing treatment…" his hands releasing mine and moving to brush the hair away from my bruised neck, regarding it with a tilt of his head.
"Where exactly?" Pushing his fingers through my hair to sweep it away from my temple.
I couldn't seem to speak as his intense gaze held me in place. I lifted my hands in front of me, palms up. "Just here," I managed in a whisper.
"Mhmmm," he murmured in deep thought, his eyes flickering between my face and neck.
"So, what you're telling me..." His fingers dragged lightly, upwards along the skin of my neck and over my jawline. My breath caught in my throat and I held it there.
"Is that these areas…" Fingertips gliding upwards still toward my hairline.
"Haven't been treated?" He finished with an inquisitive cock of his brow punctuated with another disarming head tilt.
I nodded slowly with a swallow, allowing myself to breathe once more. "That's right," I whispered, suddenly becoming aware of the fact that Itachi was fully pressed against the counter I sat on, my knees touching against the sides of his waist. The realization alone set the hitch in my throat all over again.
"If you'll allow me the pleasure, I'd like to remedy that," he offered, his pupils large and voice low.
"You can try," I replied genuinely, fighting against my nerves to maintain a steady voice and immediately kicking myself at my choice of words and how weird and challenging they came out.
You can try?! For heaven's sake, Izumi, you may as well double-dog dare him.
Much to my dismay, the awkward response did not go unnoticed. I only managed to come to terms with it because of the endearing twitch of his lips it sparked as he bit back more amusement than he cared to let on.
"I'll try then," he agreed. "But I need you to do something for me..." His eyes flickered across my form and I nodded in agreement before I even knew the terms.
Hasty girl.
"I've not attempted such a technique before, so I'll need you to remain perfectly still..." he said as his hands came to rest on the tops of my thighs, "and perfectly silent." Realizing my lips were parted from a heavy breath, I quickly snapped them shut to avoid any other accidental noises.
Sure, we had been playing at this odd sort of unspoken contest, in which neither one of us really knew how to win, but now he was putting rules to it. My confidence wavered at the seemingly simple stipulations.
"Can you do that for me?" he asked, angling his head down to meet my eyes.
"Of course I can," I feigned confidence.
"Good," he said with a smile and a squeeze, his hands so large on my thighs that I felt even smaller than usual. I fought hard against my eyelids wanting to flutter to a close at the foreign sensation and even harder against the odd heat gathering between my legs.
"Perfectly still and perfectly silent," he repeated. "You may nod or shake your head in response to a direct question. Understood?"
I nodded shakily and his eyes seemed to darken at my response as he took hold of my hands, guiding them to lay flat on the counter to my sides, behind me. "I want you to keep your hands here," he said.
It forced me to lean back slightly which immediately sent my teeth to worry at my lip. I had already been feeling this… this primal urge to push my hips forward. I was already very nearly, though not quite, pressing against him, and the angle in which he placed me somehow made the urge to close that gap even stronger.
One little slip…
"Tch…" I scoffed. Stupid, instigating inner dialogue.
"Perfectly silent, remember?" Itachi scolded me and I nodded sheepishly. This was going to be more difficult that I thought.
He straightened up and took a moment to regard me and, in true Itachi style, I had no idea what he was thinking. It was like he was playing shogi again and I was the piece in consideration. He just wasn't sure what he wanted to do with me yet... or maybe he was.
He took my chin in his hand and angled my face to the side, his other hand lightly sweeping strands away from my temple. I waited with my heart pounding in my throat as he leaned over me. I could feel the breath against my cheek before his lips came to press lightly against the once angry wound bordering my hairline. It was warm and gentle and I allowed my eyes to close as he lingered there for a moment before pulling back at a leisurely pace, our faces only inches apart as I came to find him closely examining mine when I opened my eyes.
"Did that hurt?" He asked quietly.
"N-" I began to answer but stopped at the swift raise of his eyebrow... I had broken his rules again. Apologizing with a lilt of my brows, I shook my head instead. Seemingly satisfied, he tilted my chin away once more, though this time angling it back. With his other hand, he tugged down the collar of my shirt and ran a finger over my fully exposed neck. My body wanted to shudder and my breath wanted to hitch, but I squeezed my eyes shut in concentration.
Perfectly still and perfectly silent… perfectly still and perfectly silent… Perfectly still and perfectly silent… perfectly still and perfectly silent… Perfectly still and perfectly silent…
"These injuries are rather extensive, covering a much larger area than the other," he noted aloud in a deep whisper. I felt his hair tickling against my skin as he lowered himself down once more. "I'm recommending a more rigorous treatment." His lips moved against my ear as he spoke and I failed in stopping a small tremor run through me. He paused at this.
"I don't have to worry about you moving, do I?" he asked in a husky voice that nearly made me give in and push my hips forward. I bit my lip and shook my head.
"Good." His breath lit against my ear again before I felt him move lower. In the moment before his lips came to press against the skin of my neck, I imagined myself as a rubber band being pulled tighter and tighter. The anticipation itself, his breath against my neck, but not his lips. Just waiting for something to give. It was excruciating.
A tiny gasp. A tiny gasp is all I let out as his lips finally brushed against my neck. I thought that was pretty good, all things considered. Just as I prepared to melt into him, however, he was gone. Itachi pulled back abruptly and looked down at me with a very severe, impatient expression. I felt like a dog that knew it had done something wrong but just couldn't help itself.
I know I shouldn't have torn up the couch but that's just my body's reaction to your lips against my neck.
Except replace the couch bit with 'gasped like an inexperienced idiot'.
"Izumi, I'm starting to think you're not taking this seriously," he said with a frown, looking entirely disapproving. I bit my lip hard and looked at him pleadingly in an attempt to convey that I was, indeed, deadly serious about this. I watched his stern expression dissolve with a tilt of his head as his eyes seemed to devour me, his hand grabbing my chin once more.
"God, this face…" he muttered, running his thumb over my swollen lip.
He returned to his position above me and somewhere in the back of my head, I absently noted that my arms had begun to shake beneath me. I managed to choke down my breath as his lips pressed hotly against my neck once more. I felt my chest heaving with the unnatural pace of erratic, weighty breaths and I prayed they wouldn't count against me as I was far from perfectly still.
He removed himself from my neck and I felt the sting of disappointment again as I thought he was only depriving me further, but his mouth merely brushed along the skin, ebbing and flowing, pressing and breaking away for breath and pressing again in a slow trail across it toward the other side. My eyes clamped shut as tightly as my lips, fighting against my body's overwrought reactions. Itachi, still grasping me by the chin, angled it the opposite way to gain full access to the other side of my thoroughly exposed and elongated neck.
I worried further about the stillness of my body as the tremors in my arms grew stronger and, despite my efforts, my chest continued to press upwards with every shaky breath that I so diligently expelled exclusively through my nose. I took great care, at the threat of Itachi ending treatment, to keep my mouth closed. To his credit though, Itachi was being lenient with his rules in a sense, as I knew for a fact that my rhythmic, puffing chest was not lost on him. The angle at which he had placed me pushed my breasts out already, throw in my desperate panting and yes, I was quite sure Itachi could notice me pressing up against him with each semi-restrained breath. Maybe that's why he was letting me bend the rules a bit, this was his fault after all.
The slow, purposeful procession of kisses came to halt, his lips firmly against my neck just below my earlobe. He pulled back just slightly, just for a moment. I could hear his own breathing had quickened and there was a long, tense pause. While I couldn't see his face, I imagined he was playing shogi again.
What's your play, Itachi…?
The room was silent save for our breathing, even his was labored enough to be audible at that point, and I could hear him swallow. I steeled myself with baited breath as I waited for his move. His free hand grabbed at my waist under my shirt, his fingers squeezing the softness of it before his mouth was against me once more, the warmth and wetness of his tongue pressing into my skin before his lips wrapped around my neck with a slight suction. The sensation was searing and I truly didn't have a shot in hell at staying silent through it.
The sharp, surprised inhale coupled with whatever unintelligible noise that burst from my lips was much louder than I expected and sounded foreign in my ears even though it came out of my own mouth. I winced my eyes shut even harder with regret as I realized Itachi would surely stop at this transgression. Or at least, I thought he would anyway…
His hand on my chin quickly shifted to cover my mouth but, much to my surprise, he continued to scald slow circles onto my neck with his tongue. He broke away just briefly to speak.
"Izumi…" he breathed and I found myself producing a pained whimper against his palm at the way he said my name. "I have neither the time nor the patience to allow you to continuously break the very simple rules I've laid out. If you cannot stay quiet then I will be forced to quiet you myself. Understood?"
This was not the soft-spoken, patient, docile Itachi I had come to know. This was a man who liked to be in control, and god damnit... did I want to be controlled by him. I nodded hastily. He bent towards me once more but stopped short and pulled back entirely as if just realizing something. I pried my eyes open to see him staring down at me, his pupils widely dilated and head cocked in curiosity.
"What's this?" he asked, one hand remaining on my mouth so I knew I wasn't meant to answer. His other hand moved from my waist to my wrist and slowly up the length of my violently shaking arm. He leaned to one side to get a better look, his fingers trailing to the shoulder and then back down to feel the constant tremor running through it.
"Are they tired?" he asked.
I nodded with a small whine. His eyes flitted from my quivering appendages to my face, regarding me in a curious manner.
"Yet you maintained it…" he said quietly, thoughtfully, almost to himself yet maintained eye contact with me. He was still playing shogi. I wondered what my face looked like to make his eyes so hungry as he took me in. He leaned over me once more, his mouth by my ear and his hand travelling up my back to press firmly against it.
"You can rest your arms," he whispered. "You've been very good, Izumi."
I sighed gratefully, letting my arms give out with a tiny noise of relief as Itachi held me up.
"Almost done, I promise…" he said, though I wouldn't have been upset if he broke this particular promise.
The heat that coiled and tightened between my legs had grown into something much more intense, a burning, longing ache that throbbed and bordered on the edge of pain. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. My body itched to move forward, to rub against him and get some sort of relief, but I couldn't, not yet, not while he'd forbidden it.
His mouth was against my neck again and I did my best not to squirm. I was getting sloppy though, and the slight sucking sensation from his open-mouthed kiss followed by the light rake of his teeth along the sensitive skin atop my jugular was too much. A simpering moan escaped me, muffling against his hand, my toes curling to stop myself from pushing forward against him. Itachi slowed to a pause, his tongue retreating behind his lips which pressed one last time against me before pulling back all together and moving to my ear.
"Did that hurt?"
I shook my head quickly, very much wanting him to understand how much it did not hurt. He straightened up to look upon me, letting the hand over my mouth fall down to my waist, his other hand mirroring it to hold me in place there by my hips. The skin beneath his fingers felt like it was on fire and my lips hung gaping as I worked on getting my breathing under control.
"I hope this helped you understand the foolishness of that question..." he said. I stared back at him for a moment, recalling when I'd asked him that same question and what I'd been doing to him just before I'd asked. I realized with a healthy flush, though it barely made a dent in my already overheated face, that his reaction before was not one of pain but of pleasure.
Not to mention you're a giant dolt for thinking otherwise to begin with.
I nodded slowly and he seemed to smile, the realization likely apparent on my face.
"I do hope the treatment was a success," he said quietly as he brought me close to him, leaning down to press those lips against the center of my forehead. I brought my hands up to rest on his chest, lightly clinging to the fabric of his shirt, and closed my eyes with a contented sigh. "Consider the rules suspended," he murmured into my hair before pulling back to take another look at me with a sigh of his own.
He may have been done playing shogi, but as far as I was concerned, I hadn't even gotten a turn yet.
I looked him in the eye with lips still parted, my brows angling up in a desperate, silent plea. The pulsing emptiness at the center of my thighs was ever-present. Languid and deliberate, I scooted forward until our hips met fully and I let out an unintentional little moan as I felt something hard and hot protruding from his pants against the heightened bundle of nerves between my legs. I watched his face intently as I ground against him in a primal, instinctual motion and it did not disappoint.
Everything had led to that moment, all of the flirting, all of my obedience, all of it just so I could see his reaction in that moment; the stiffening of his entire body all at once, breath sputtering from his lips in surprise and pleasure, brows knitting together in an instant, his eyelids fluttering shut, jaw clenching and unclenching, then clenching again. The low, gravelly groan that seemed to come directly from his chest. I could feel it vibrating against my fingers that spread over his pectorals. The hands holding onto my hips squeezed tightly, his fingertips dimpling into my soft skin, pulling me even harder into him, eliciting another drawn out whine from me. The image of him like this was immediately seared into my memory and I absolutely delighted in it.
"Oh hey, don't mind me," Kisame said casually, though not without a chuckle as he noticed us after he'd already made it part-way into the kitchen. He wore only boxers and slippers, which scuffed against the floor as he made his way to the fridge.
Itachi and I parted from each other as if through means of electric current. He jolted backwards, clearing his throat uncomfortably and fidgeting with his pants as I quickly crossed my legs and smoothed my hair.
"Watch out, a jar fell," I managed to eek out.
"Slippers," he noted, scraping carelessly through the shards and releasing a blinding torrent of light into the dimly lit room as he opened the fridge door which left me feeling terribly exposed despite being fully clothed thank God.
Good reminder that it could be worse…
Itachi and I both watched in awkward silence as Kisame fumbled through the fridge, pulled out a carton of juice, took some time in guzzling it dry, set the carton on the counter, noticed the mochi snacks, smiled to himself, popped one into his mouth, began to leave, paused to grab another, then made to leave again.
"Carry on," he croaked tiredly, shuffling away once more with a wave.
Did God send him to preserve my chastity or is the devil just screwing with me?
"We should probably get all this cleaned up…" Itachi murmured after a moment of silence, looking around for a broom. I swallowed hard and cleared my throat.
"Y-yeah."
"You stay up there," he commanded, and for about the zillionth time that night, I obeyed. We eventually finished cleaning up and he saw me to the couch. I was hoping for a goodnight kiss, even just one on the forehead would have been more than enough for me, but we were both far too awkward for words. I went to bed that night with an empty yearning between my legs and the fear in my head that whatever just happened was all a fluke somehow.
A/N: DON'T KILL ME GUYS. It's KISAME'S fault, not mine :3
Also I made some art for this chapter. doesn't let me post images within the story so it's over on my tumblr, same username, fireflylitsky, if you want to check it out.
