A/N: I know many of you thought a confrontation was imminent. Sorry. And many of you seem to misunderstand the title of this story and think that Naruto will invariably save the day. Sorry for that too. I guess this fic is, in many ways, about the struggles we all go through to triumph over shit, whether it be in ourselves or just life in general.

Please excuse the sketchy knowledge I've displayed here about biometrics technology. By what research I was able to conduct, what Itachi did is possible. Lastly, next chap is called 'The Boiling Point' and will have what many of you have been waiting for, regarding Sasuke, Naruto, and Itachi, I believe.

9. Simmer

When Naruto opened his door the following morning, he didn't at first let Sasuke in. Instead, he stood with the door halfway open, and blocked it with his body. He gazed at Sasuke, weighing the pros and cons of continuing their visits.

He hadn't slept last night. He'd remained stiffly at his kitchen table, body trembling with the effort to remain seated and not get up and compulsively rearrange the contents of his cabinets, or clean his already spotless house. This was his reaction to any situation he felt had the potential to get out of hand…it was his way of keeping order around himself, the reason he was so compulsive about it in his day to day life.

His seclusion was his choice, one the Hokage honored by making sure he was inaccessible. He was secluded for a reason, the reason being that he could not deal with people and their shit. He'd let Sasuke into his life. Reluctantly at first, true, but the fact was that he had let him in. That did not mean that he intended to let Sasuke's baggage in with him.

Yet that was what he was faced with. If Sasuke was in danger, in hiding, that must mean that he and his brother were on the run. From someone more dangerous than ANBU, to boot. Not that this mysterious person would find the brothers anytime soon. He hoped not, but someone was looking. Sasuke was now associated with Naruto. It was not a far leap of the imagination that the someone might show up on Naruto's doorstep; if they could find Sasuke despite all the false information, they would most certainly be able to find where Sasuke spent his time.

The notion filled him with his old panic. He didn't want that, didn't want the world intruding on him. His shoulder blades all but crawled with the certainty that something was coming, some confrontation he could do without. Instead of thoughts of Sasuke bringing him peace, he was now filled with foreboding. Disquiet. Unease. If he could pick up his mountain and set it down on some lonely plain, away from people, he would. The old instinct to run away, to shut everything out, reared its cowardly head in him and beckoned.

But Sasuke.

For some reason the thought of Sasuke being in danger did not disturb him as much as it should have. He felt sure that Sasuke was capable of watching his own back, and that his brother, surely the one who'd kept him safe lo these many years, was likewise no one to trifle with. No, what shriveled his balls was the prospect of Sasuke, in running from danger, also running from him. Sasuke might need to leave at some point and Naruto would be forced to let him. He would not brave society for a boy, even one he loved, and he would not let the boy remain if something was coming for him. Naruto needed his peace.

But Sasuke was his peace, wasn't he?

What held him in its debilitating grip until the sun came up and then until he'd felt Sasuke's presence outside was this realization: that though he could and did behave with relative normalcy when it was only himself, or only him and Sasuke, and though he needed Sasuke quite badly, he was not a well man. He had limitations. Weaknesses. Flaws. These limitations, weaknesses, and flaws would cost him dearly in the near future, he could tell. But he could not simply overcome these limitations, etc, with the power of positive thinking, either. He simply could not.

I wish I could be your hero, Sasuke, but the moment will come when you need to go and I'm going to have to let you.

But that moment hadn't arrived, he thought fiercely as Sasuke stared at him in turn. And until it did he would not think about the possibility. He would work at recapturing what he had with Sasuke.

He opened the door wider, and Sasuke entered.

-oOo-

Naruto expected that things would be strained between them to some degree, and here he wasn't wrong. They stood in the first uncomfortable silence he could remember them sharing, until he finally said, "I'm hungry. You?"

"Yeah."

"Ramen?"

"Okay."

In the kitchen. Naruto retrieved two packages of beef ramen and set about preparing them. While the water heated, he also got two Barbicans from the fridge and set them on the table. He noticed Sasuke's bag on the floor by the boy's legs and hesitated, wondering for the first time if there were weapons in there too. This would seem likely, since the bag was always with Sasuke.

-oOo-

Sasuke caught him looking, looked down at his bag, then looked back up at where Naruto was now turning away.

He truly could not have asked for better consideration than what Naruto was giving him. No questions asked, letting him hinder an ANBU investigation…it tightened his throat to see how thoroughly Naruto was on his side, down to forcing Moegi to leave before she could ask him more than what she had. Just then, his chest felt as if it would burst with love. Why couldn't Itachi trust him this much? His own brother?

Refusing to think of his home life and of how much it hurt just being there, Sasuke lifted his bag onto the table with an effort at casualness.

Naruto turned from the counter with the bowls of ramen. He saw the bag on the table but said nothing. He and Sasuke ate in silence.

When they were done, Sasuke cleared the dishes, washed them, and wiped down the table three times with disinfectant. Then he picked up his bag, held it, and looked at Naruto a moment, before going to the living room. Naruto, unsure of what was going on, got up and followed him. They sat on the couch, about a foot apart. The bag was set between them.

Sasuke didn't share his hobbies with anyone. Itachi knew of the art, but that was Itachi's doing in the first place. Chewing his lip nervously, he opened the bag and slowly withdrew his sketchbook. It wasn't the same one Itachi had looked through. This was a relatively new one, one he'd bought and filled during the two weeks he'd been away from Naruto. He passed this to Naruto now without a word.

-oOo-

Naruto received it with a feeling of inner excitement, and raging curiosity. He'd never known what was in the bag, had never had any glimpse whatsoever into Sasuke's life away from the mountain besides seeing his brother the one time, and the revelations so recently come to light. All more or less intangible things. This, a book of what appeared to be drawings, was different. He handled it as if touching something precious, balancing it on his open palms. He set it with equal reverence on his knees and slowly, carefully, lifted the cover.

There was no artwork around his house. He didn't like art, nor could he relate to it. It was frequently incomprehensible to him, and simply of zero interest. He wasn't sure what he expected to see in the sketchbook, but it wasn't what he found.

All of the drawings were in black and white, or shades of gray. They were highly evocative of an intensely emotional state of mind. Looking at them, Naruto was awestruck. He felt his mouth dry up.

A black eye that filled the entire page, a single tear welling along the lower lid, and the image of Naruto's face visible in the tear; two pairs of hands, held toward each other, almost touching, but not quite, one pair young and fair, the other pair older and rougher; a page colored entirely black, with one bright spot: a lock of fair hair that seemed to float in the darkness; a pair of masculine lips with strange items falling from them: a lock, a key, a door, a rusty chain; the shape of a man with a ponytail, sitting with his back to the viewer, outlined in bright light, yet further surrounded by jagged black lines, illustrating conflicting emotions.

And on the pictures went. Some Naruto could recognize as his own hand or neck, his jaw, his arm. There was one of crows taking flight into a bleak and overcast sky, leaving behind the picked over remains of a teen boy. Not much was left of the boy but a pair of recognizable boots and a similarly familiar bag. All else was bone and hanging flesh. Naruto stared at this one for a long, long time.

He came to the end of the sketchpad, and went through it again, studying each sketch for long minutes before going to the next one. Sometimes he would go back and look at a particular picture for additional minutes, before moving forward once more. Only when he'd gone through the pages several times, did he gently close the pad and look at Sasuke with grave eyes.

-oOo-

Sasuke had sat with his elbows on his knees, fingernail in his mouth, nibbling anxiously. His eyes had skipped up and down, going between his sketches and Naruto's face, trying to guess what the man might be thinking. Some of the ones of Naruto's body had been pored over excessively, burning him with embarrassment, but a lot of the others had been scrutinized as well. Now Naruto was looking at him, and he felt like he had to say something in his defense. "I…drew those while I was away," he mumbled. "Those weeks-

"Thank you."

Sasuke fell silent, blinking beneath his hair.

"Thank you…for sharing this with me."

"Oh…okay. You're welcome. I've never shown anyone my stuff before." He tried to smile, but somehow Naruto's intense stare prevented it. He settled for looking down at where the sketchbook was clutched in Naruto's hands.

Naruto cleared his throat. Being allowed to see the drawings had honored him. He'd been was well aware before being told that he was the first to see them. It was Sasuke's own declaration of trust. "May I keep them?"

"Um…" Sasuke knew his face had to be pink now. His chest felt tight again, the way it had in the kitchen. "Yeah, if you want." He knew he was skilled, technically, but it was weird having someone want his sketches. Especially when the person was Naruto.

"Do you have more?"

"Not here." Then, seeing the way those blue eyes lowered beneath a frown of disappointment, he added, "I can draw something, if you want."

Naruto looked up again. "All right. Can you draw anything?"

"If I've seen it."

"Can you draw me? All of me?"

"Yeah…but the pad is done."

"I have paper."

This conversation, held in voices that were just above whispers, somehow smoothed over the awkwardness they'd been experiencing. It did the job of bridging the slight gap that had sprung up between them after Moegi's intrusion. Sasuke felt dangerously close to Naruto now, having shown his private drawings to him and received approval. He felt as if he'd taken his clothes off and stood naked in front of him, so intimate was the experience of showing Naruto his work.

Naruto likewise felt the import of Sasuke sharing his drawings; it was not only a show of trust, but Sasuke's way of reaching out to him. He felt the urge to hold Sasuke, to comfort him of the pain so obvious in the pictures, but didn't. He was oddly bashful about any type of deliberate or overt attempt at physical intimacy with the boy. That time in the kitchen, with the pie dough …no, he wasn't quite ready to claim Sasuke, no matter that he aroused him so much.

He left Sasuke for a while, to disappear into his bedroom, and came back with a huge pad of size A2 paper. He handed it to Sasuke, then stood uncertainly in front of him. "Should I stand?"

"Um…you can sit. Over there."

Naruto sat in his armchair. He considered picking up one of the books that sat on the floor beside it and reading, but thought better of it. He wanted to watch Sasuke work. His eyes followed him as he set the pad on the floor and opened it to the first page. Sasuke then took out a flat metal case of pencils and charcoals, and set it to one side of the pad. He looked up at Naruto, brushing aside his hair absently.

Under the scrutiny of Sasuke's artistic eye, Naruto felt exposed. With Sasuke's face bare, he soon forgot this feeling, and instead concentrated on the way the skin between Sasuke's eyes crinkled faintly in concentration. So beautiful. Naruto stared at him and thought that he could truly die of Sasuke's beauty.

At his job, Itachi went to a corner and checked his phone. Damn that kid. Whoever that blond was, Sasuke was with him again, same as everyday.

Going back to his station, Itachi resumed supervising the molten steel being poured into molds. Bad enough the kid appeared fixated on this dude, but what possessed the guy himself to hang around someone so much younger? Fucking pedophile, that's what. Itachi had lived through that particular hell, and could not honestly stomach the idea of his brother going through the same thing. He didn't care if Sasuke was willing or if the kid thought he loved the guy. The man was too old, whoever he was, and Itachi would set the fucker straight. The asshole had taken his kid brother from him. He'd do more than set the fucker straight when the time came.

-oOo-

Early this morning, hours before dawn, he'd gone out to the coordinates and come up on a long stretch of road running parallel to the base of the Hokage mountain. No street lights on the road, no nothing. The road itself was so far outside the city proper that it was highly unlikely that anyone ever found their way to it. The entry point to this road was blocked by a chain link fence that bore a sign: Military Zone, trespassers will be penalized.

He'd jumped the fence and continued along the road, hands shoved in his pockets, but alert for any movement outside his own. He remembered grinding his teeth until they'd nearly snapped off at the gums. Not doing anything to endanger them? The kid was apparently in a military zone day in and day out. If that didn't endanger them, Itachi didn't know what would.

He'd come up to a big orange barricade built right into the side of the bloody mountain. He saw a camera high up near the top, but kept his head down, his face hidden by his hair. Walking up to the barricade, he saw that it opened on tracks, probably via camera recognition. He'd searched, but had found no way past the barricade.

Mouth a tight line, he'd turned around and walked back to town.

He had gone to a coffee shop, bought a cup of toxic sludge, and sat down to await the time he'd be required to show up at his job; if he'd gone home instead of to the coffee shop, he felt sure that he would have kicked Sasuke's door down and murdered the shit in his bed. Instead, he sipped the acidic liquid gingerly and thought.

Sasuke consistently got around that barricade somehow, probably through that camera. Which meant he'd programmed some kind of override into it, which meant Itachi needed to get his hands on Sasuke's laptop. He could fuck around on his own computer until he came up with an override himself, but Sasuke likely had info that had led him to that barricade in the first place, info that would shorten the amount of time Itachi spent dicking with the code and shit.

Unbeknownst to the kid, Itachi was already scoping out someplace else to live. So far, Suna looked like the place to be. They had jobs available, and the place was nearly twice the size of Fire Country. He'd never been to Suna before because of the fucking heat. However, it would have to be endured if it meant that he and Sasuke could disappear again. The kid would be coming up on his eighteenth birthday next year too, which would legally qualify him for work. Time the kid had something to occupy himself.

Itachi briefly considered the possibility that Sasuke would buck him on the move. Well, he knew the kid would shit bricks, but what if Sasuke seriously chose to stay? Itachi didn't know if he could live without him, and that was the truth. His whole life revolved around Sasuke, around keeping him safe, making sure he was fed, and clothed, and healthy. If Itachi was no longer responsible for him, he'd go mad with worry. And he'd miss him. He'd never loved anything or anyone like he loved his brother. Living without him…he just didn't know if he'd be able to take that, he really didn't.

So, no. Whether Sasuke liked it or not, they were moving.

-oOo-

"Sugiyama!"

Itachi jerked, and saw that the molds were about to overrun themselves. He hastily hit the switch, before twisting around to look down at where his foreman was frowning up at him. "Yeah, boss?"

"Quit daydreaming!"

"Right." Itachi put thoughts of his home life out of his mind for the time being.

The faint sound of Sasuke's pencil moving surely across the paper was akin to soft fingers thrumming along Naruto's nerve-endings. To see Sasuke in action, see him doing something he did so well, and with such pleasure, was nothing short of mesmerizing.

In fact, he found the whole process by which Sasuke rendered him on paper to be captivating. The way Sasuke never touched the paper directly unless it was the very corners, or to blur some line with a tissue. Or how he turned the paper this way and that when drawing. Or how quickly the pencil moved when it shaded, and how precisely it made the darker lines. Seeing it all, Naruto felt as if the air was slowly being sucked from the room.

Sasuke's hand was smooth and fair, holding his pencil in such a way as to cause the fine hairs on Naruto's arms to stand up. The bangs were repeatedly brushed aside, and this dark fall seemed too rich, too opulent, to adorn any head but Sasuke's. It was fitting that such a one as he be in possession of such luxuriant hair. Naruto confessed to himself that Sasuke's hair, along with his eyes, quite fascinated him. At one point Sasuke drew back his sleeves to his elbows, and exposed forearms that were lean, yet did not appear weak. There was no hair that Naruto could see on the arms.

Sasuke did not look up at him after that first stare. Whatever details the boy needed were evidently firmly fixed in his mind after that one look. Naruto saw himself take shape beneath Sasuke's hand with such vividness that the drawing was comparable to a photograph. The thought of his likeness residing with such attention to detail in Sasuke's mind brought him to a state of full arousal. He did nothing to hide it, only shifted slightly in his chair as his erection grew.

The ticking had resumed, and it was louder than before.

Sasuke went home that day as if filled with air; he felt light and ridiculously happy. He smiled constantly, covering his mouth with his forearm anytime a laugh escaped him. When he got home, his brother was sitting on the couch, waiting for him. His smile fell away.

No words. Not even a staring match. Itachi looked him up and down slowly, stood up, and then went to his room. He didn't close his door, but he didn't come back out again either.

Dinner was take out and sitting on the table. He and Naruto had skipped lunch today, so he was starved. Peeking at the dark doorway of Itachi's room again, he sat down at the table and began to eat.

-oOo-

Itachi lay on his bed, waiting. About 45 minutes after the kid had finished eating, he heard him running into the bathroom to puke his guts up. Excellent. If the stuff worked as directed, Sasuke would also be voiding his bowels in a profuse and liquid manner. He hated to do it to him, but this was their lives the kid was screwing with.

Poking his head into the hall, he saw that the bathroom door was closed. He had his laptop under one arm as he streaked to the kitchen, and dropped to his knees beside Sasuke's bag. He had the kid's computer out and open in a flash.

Sasuke had altered the security for his computer to that it now required a thumb print. Fuck.

Closing the laptop carefully, Itachi held it up at eye level, at an angle. He could make out fingerprints on it, but had no way of knowing which were his and which were Sasuke's. He set the laptop down as the sound of more vomiting could be heard, and dug through the bag. He came up with the case of pencils.

He supposed that he could wait till Sasuke was asleep, then use his own real thumb to unlock his computer, but Sasuke could wake up during that process. He would have to render Sasuke unconscious without waking him, something he hadn't the means to do without unmasking his chakra, or an intent to harm, both things that would wake Sasuke from the deepest slumber. No, much as the materials to do so accurately were seriously lacking, Itachi would need to lift a print.

Working quickly with a length of plastic-wrap, he selected what he knew to be a thumb print, and wrapped his own digit. The kid had changed his entire computer screen in order to be able to incorporate biometric technology like this, a feat Itachi was both proud of, and annoyed with. He'd be lucky to access the laptop at all, with such a half-assed print retrieval.

It worked, he was in. The toilet flushed. Sasuke could be heard groaning wretchedly.

Itachi didn't exactly know what he was looking for, which meant he wasted precious time hunting around Sasuke's files. He heard the bathroom door opening, and hunkered down behind the bar counter separating the kitchen and hall; the bathroom was directly opposite the kitchen.

"Itachi?"

He heard Sasuke step into the hall and froze on the keyboard, breath held. All Sasuke had to do was look over the side of the counter and he'd see him. He could handle a confrontation, but didn't want the kid's guard up.

"I think I'm sick…" Sasuke's shuffling footsteps went towards Itachi's room…then ran back into the bathroom where more blessed puking was heard. Thank God. He was in there a good fifteen minutes.

Itachi found the override by accident. He tripped over the info that he and his brother had recently been investigated by ANBU (Fuck! Fuck that kid!), and that in turn had led him to the file on the blond (Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto), which then led to the coordinates, and the override Sasuke had programmed.

His fingers paused for a few tense seconds. He had several options.

One, he could disable the override and put out an anonymous, untraceable alert to ANBU that their security had been breached, but then Sasuke would be hunted; his face would be retrieved from the override in their system. Itachi could erase Sasuke's face, he supposed, but then what would be the point of alerting ANBU? They wouldn't have proof, would think the alert was a hoax, and Sasuke's happy ass would continue to traipse to and from the mountain unimpeded.

Two, he could disable the override and then make it so the kid couldn't create another, but that would take time, alert Sasuke, and have the kid going to Naruto by some other means. Itachi may or may not discover what that means was. He preferred the devil he knew to the one he didn't.

Three, he could add his own face to the existing override, and cover his tracks so that Sasuke never knew. This seemed like his best bet.

Copying the data quickly to his own laptop, Itachi erased the fact that he'd ever been on Sasuke's computer to begin with and slipped the thing back into Sasuke's bag. He had his own laptop put away in his room, and was sauntering casually into the hall when Sasuke staggered out of the bathroom.

"I'm sick," Sasuke quavered. He leaned heavily against the wall.

"Really? Place I got that food must not have been too clean. I'll speak to the manager on my way home tomorrow. Is it bad?" Itachi said all this with just the right amount of concern.

"Uh huh. Can't stop shitting and puking. My stomach hurts."

Itachi went to him, but hesitated. Things were pretty rough between them these days. He wasn't sure if the kid wanted to be touched. But then Sasuke reached for him, looking to be nursed to health and made much over, same as usual whenever he got sick. Itachi didn't protest, or comment on the fact that though Sasuke had no problem lying to him and defying him, he still came to his big brother when he couldn't do for himself.

-oOo-

He carefully helped Sasuke to his room, helped him into a T-shirt and sweats, and then tucked him into bed. No mention was made by either of them through this process of their estrangement. For now the hostility didn't exist between them, and that was good enough for both brothers.

"You want tea?" Itachi asked quietly as he drew the blanket up to Sasuke's chin. "I can make you that ginger tea that settles your stomach."

"Yeah, okay." Sasuke's brow was beaded with sweat, his face pasty. "Bring the bucket too, I'm gonna hurl again."

"Sure thing."

As he ran the water for the tea and peeled the ginger, Itachi didn't feel one bit bad about poisoning his brother. At the very least, it had temporarily reinstated their close bond with each other. He considered poisoning the kid everyday, just to have Sasuke leaning on him like this, then smiled wryly at his own wickedness. But he would deserve it.

Later, he sat with Sasuke in his room and held his head whenever he threw up, or wiped his brow whenever he got clammy. While watching Sasuke sleep fitfully, he decided that he would wait the few days until the end of the week before dropping in on Naruto. By then, the new identities for them would be set up in Suna, and they could leave immediately should things go sour on that mountain. And judging by the way his gut burned whenever he thought of Naruto's name, Itachi thought it was a sure thing that the encounter would go sour. Most likely ANBU would be hot on his ass after he made his visit. And Sasuke…Sasuke would probably need to be drugged again, this time to unconsciousness, in order to get him out of the village quietly.

End of the week. He had Naruto's address, and would be paying a visit. He expected the shit to hit the fan with spectacular brilliance. All things considered, Itachi was looking forward to getting in Naruto's ass most righteously.

Sasuke frowned in his sleep, groaned. "Itachi?" he croaked.

"I'm here, kid. Ain't going nowhere."