#4 – Hug
"Are you even the Itachi I knew?"
"If you cannot stand the sight of my face, I'll be happy to move out." Slapping his suitcase shut, he silently padded out of his room without so much as a backward glance at him. He would never forget the stroke of satisfaction reverberating through his core as he shut the door in his Father's stupefied face.
For the first time in a long while, he found his voice, and stood his ground.
He could not believe that defiance tasted sweeter than dango, his one and only guilty pleasure.
Even the guilt of abandoning his mother and Sasuke could not weigh down his soaring heart-
"No you don't Itachi! You're the heir to the Uchiha clan and you jolly well fulfil your responsibilities!"
"What are you- Let go of me!" The sudden weight on his back sent them crashing to the floor, but for some strange reason, his Father felt heavier than he should be. He was clinging onto his waist like a drowning toddler grasping onto a stray log, his grip relentless and tight as his oppressive presence.
"Father, this is-"
"I like you…"
The nauseating waft of beer stirred him from his memory turned nightmare, while the overwhelming load on his back transgressed to reality, stubbornly weighing him down on the bed.
"What on Earth…?"
"…an… I'm here…" Kisame mumbled and spontaneously tightened his hug on Itachi.
"Kisame? What the hell are you doing in my room? Get off me- W-Where the hell are you touching-" Itachi released an involuntary groan as he mustered all his overnight energy and hurled his body against the bed's headboard. The first thing he noticed was the hairpin wedged into his doorknob's keyhole followed by the putrid mass of puke by the door.
"Give me a break… It's only three in the morning damn it," He cursed under his breath as he racked his hand through his fringe.
Roughly grabbing his hairband by the bedside table he irately mopped up the mess. He was tempted to pour the filthy water onto Kisame's body, but that would also destroy his bed in the process.
Slamming his bedroom door behind him, he quickly downed the remaining bottles of beer stacked on the coffee table to sizzle down his anger. And he did not even liked beer. Almost feeling his mood improved, he reached for his weekly subscription Time magazine underneath, only to be greeted with a double D FHM model on the cover, and proceeded to curse some more.
Some kinky bromance for you Shannon.