Their hips moved to the music, tight against each other. In the darkness, the crowd was just a mass of bodies, but only one had his attention. Dark hair pulled into a ponytail spilled over his shoulder, and his body was lean and muscled. His hand on the other's back could feel the muscles working, and traced them, smirking when he felt a shudder. The other hand was on his partner's hip, rubbing the skin the low-slung jeans exposed.
They weren't able to go to these raves often, but when they did they enjoyed it. As antisocial as they seemed, it was good to get out every now and then just so they wouldn't go insane. And, Neji thought, it made them both that much more energetic in bed. Often he'd get the news through Itachi's little brother, now also a jounin, and would tell Itachi when or if they met for a meal. Either way, that evening as the sun was going down Neji would saunter over to Itachi dressed in mesh shirts and leather pants, Itachi would get the message and dress, and they would go to wherever the rave was that night—an abandoned warehouse, a forest clearing (the bonfires that flickered behind Itachi as they pressed their bodies together made him look like a demon from Hell), a cave.
The whole gang was there, usually—Naruto, Sasuke and whoever he was banging that week, the girls, Shino, Kiba, everyone caught up in this dance.
"Neji," the other growled in his ear. Lips brushed his neck and a hand slid down his back to cup his ass. In response, the Hyuuga dug his nails into Itachi's hip and was rewarded by feeling the other arch into his touch. The leather pants that Neji wore did little to hide how aroused he was, and through the material between them he could feel that Itachi was hard as well.
Oh, he'd be getting it when they got back.