A/N: My dumb ass keeps forgetting to reinsert scene breaks because this site has to delete the ones I put in word :/ But I have fixed that! Deepest apologies to everyone who read this before I had them in.
Also this chapter is kind of a hot mess but...that's...how that is.
Enjoy, friends!
In the four weeks that Itachi had officially been in a relationship again, he learned a few things about Kisame. One, he was a very tactile person. He familiarized himself with new things by feeling them. The current new and unfamiliar thing in question was Itachi, and Kisame loved to touch his hair, the gentle concave of his waist, the warm skin around his neck and shoulders. Their physical relationship was still growing, though it had already evolved by leaps and bounds. Because of this Itachi knew that Kisame was holding back; if he wasn't, Itachi didn't think Kisame's hands would ever leave his body. He didn't particularly mind the continuous affections, though he did appreciate the sentiment. Kisame had gained a lot of his physical trust, and it had been ages since anyone besides Sasuke had touched him.
Two, Kisame was easy to work with. He was understanding. He let Itachi lead the relationship, let Itachi initiate the kisses and cuddles and whatnot. It put him mad out of his comfort zone, because he wasn't ever used to that in a past relationship, but it was reassuring to know that Kisame wasn't going to pressure him or try to take advantage of him. Looks like he wasn't going to owe Sasuke any more apologies.
Another thing he learned was that Kisame loved to crack really bad jokes. He had to see if he could tame that habit, somehow.
They met up every now and again, when their schedules coincided—which, regrettably, wasn't very often. Itachi worked a lot, and even though Kisame never openly blamed or anything like that, Itachi knew that he was disappointed at how little time they were actually able to spend together. A lot of their time was spent together over the phone.
Itachi had his cell cradled in between his cheek and his shoulder organizing some things on his desk that had been shuffled out of order.
"Babe."
Itachi still nearly shivered every time Kisame spoke in that low, throaty voice. "Hey."
Kisame hummed. "I was just going to call you. I've missed you."
Itachi smiled. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Can we face time?"
Itachi sat on the edge of his bed, running his fingers through his hair. "Nah."
Kisame groaned. "Why do you do this to me? I wanna see you."
Itachi smiled. "I'm about to go to bed."
"So let me watch you fall asleep," Kisame suggested. "That'll be fun."
Itachi laughed. "I'm sure it would be." He pulled all his hair around one side, separating it into three plaits.
"What are you doing right now?" Kisame asked.
"Braiding my hair."
"Braiding your hair? I've never seen it like that."
"Haven't you?"
"Nope. All the more reason to face time me."
Itachi used his teeth to pull the hairband off of his wrist. "You're very persistent, I'll give you that."
"Give me facetimeeeee," Kisame groaned, dragging out the end of the word.
Itachi tied up his braid and pulled back the covers, switching the phone to his hand.
"Why do you braid your hair?" Kisame asked, evidently giving up on his righteous plight.
"To keep it from getting tangled overnight."
"Mm, that's a good point. So much long hair, it must take a lot to keep it healthy."
Itachi shrugged to himself. "I probably don't do as much as I should." He pushed his head into his pillow. "Speaking of hair care, yours must be utterly dead, what with all the dye you smother it in."
"Dye? Babe, this color is natural."
Itachi snorted. "Of course it is." He pulled back the sheets and dragged his comforter over him. "I'm wearing your hoodie, you know," he murmured, pushing up the neckline against its cheek.
"Yeah? You're never giving it back, are you?"
Itachi hummed, rolling over so his phone was under his cheek. "No, you'll need to take it back soon."
"Need to?"
"It's starting to not smell like you anymore."
Kisame chuckled. "How flattering. Is that why you wear it to bed every night?"
"Not every night," Itachi muttered, snuggling into the blankets around him.
"You're so fucking cute, Itachi. What am I going to do with you?"
"You can come over here and kiss me."
"Don't joke about that, I'll get in my car right now."
"No, don't," Itachi said, but there was no assertion in his voice.
There was a moment of silence, sleep lulling along the edges of Itachi's consciousness.
"How was your day?" Kisame grunted.
Itachi hummed. "It was fine. Tiring. It's always so tiring."
"Come over here. I'll give you a reason to be tired."
"Your attitude gives me a reason to be tired."
"Ouch. Words hurt, Itachi."
"Don't they?"
"I'm serious, though. Come over to my house sometime."
"I've already been to your house."
"Yeah, like, twice. Why won't you hang out with me," Kisame groaned.
Itachi laughed lightly. "I'll come, I promise. It's just hard, the bus route to get there is wonky."
"Bus route?" Kisame asked, surprised. "Why would you take the bus over driving your car?"
Itachi's eyes opened slowly as his muscles stiffened.
Well…shit.
"Uh," he stammered, sitting up in bed. "About that…I don't…own a car, actually."
Kisame was quiet for a moment. "What do you mean you don't own a car? You said you drove to our dates."
"Um, yeah. I didn't. I took the bus."
"…then why didn't you just tell me that?"
"Well—"
"Wait a minute. You said you had parking issues. Elaborate ones. You told me about them."
"I made those up," he responded quietly.
"So you were just lying?"
Itachi could practically hear his stomach slip down through his feet and onto the floor. "Kisame—"
"Why the fuck would you do that, Itachi? Why would you go through all the trouble making up a story."
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Kisame was really quiet for a moment. "What else have you been lying about?"
"No, no," Itachi said quickly, "I haven't, nothing, well—"
"Well?"
"I don't think I have?" He said breathily. "I don't know. I lie a lot. But I don't remember anything besides the car, so I don't think I have. At least nothing important."
There was silence on the other end of the line.
"Kisame?" Itachi prompted worriedly.
"You lie a lot?"
"I mean…yeah. But, I just do it, because, um, because—"
The thing was, Itachi didn't know what to tell him. He lied because he was a paranoid fuck? Because he had endless trust issues? Was he supposed to let loose that he had enough inner demons to film an Exorcist series?
Lamely, he settled with, "I'm sorry, Kisame."
"Yeah."
No, no. "Will you forgive me?"
"I forgive you, Itachi," Kisame said, and it sounded earnest. But something was still off.
"But…?"
"But…I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?" Itachi asked, pressing a hand to his jump roping stomach.
"I just don't know. I should go to bed now."
"No, Kisame, talk to me." Itachi sounded borderline desperate.
"It's okay, Itachi, everything's okay. I'm just kind of pissed right now, so I don't think it's a good idea to keep talking to you."
"Okay," Itachi conceded quietly.
"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay."
"Night, Itachi. Sleep well."
"Goodnight."
Itachi sat in bed for a few more minutes, feeling horribly uneasy. He shouldn't have lied, he saw that clearly now, but now maybe it was too late.
The thought made his throat close up.
He took a couple deep breaths—they would talk again tomorrow, and Itachi could explain, and everything would be alright. Kisame said he was forgiven, anyways. He flicked off the lamp on the nightstand and settled into bed.
He tried to sleep, he really did. His stomach was still fluttery, though, and his mind was racing. He drifted into little pockets of unrestful sleep for a couple hours, but, ultimately, it was pointless. At 1:30, he sat up abruptly in bed, turning his light back on and rubbing a hand over his face. He grabbed his phone off of the stand, flicking it open impatiently and opening Kisame's contact.
The ring of the FaceTime dialer thrummed in the quiet room.
"Itachi? Babe?" A groggy voice asked.
"Hey," Itachi responded. He pulled his knees up, resting his chin on them.
"What's—baby, it's almost two in the morning, what you are doing?"
"Facetiming you," Itachi mumbled. "I can't sleep."
Kisame rubbed a hand over his face, cracking one eye to glare at the screen, so bright in the dark of the room. "Why not? What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry," he said, biting his lip. "I'm really sorry, and I can't sleep, because couples shouldn't go to bed when they're mad at each other. I read that online."
Kisame cracked a slow smile, and it felt like a million weights were taken off of Itachi's chest. "Ah, babe—don't worry about it. I'm not even that mad."
"I didn't want to lie to you," he whispered. "I was just scared. I'm…really poor, Kisame. I can barely make ends meet. I skip meals all the time, I cycle the same three pants to wear. I didn't eat breakfast or dinner today. I forewent reading glasses for two years." He paused. "Last summer I was one bus ride away from becoming a prostitute—"
"Itachi," Kisame interrupted, sitting up. "You…don't need to tell me these things. These are personal and I don't expect—"
"I want you to know," Itachi insisted, "I want you to know that I wasn't lying because I didn't trust you, or—whatever made you upset. I'm sorry."
"I forgive you." Kisame blinked slowly at the camera for a moment. "And I understand. Will you be able to sleep now?"
"Do you mean it?"
Kisame chuckled. "Yes, Itachi, I mean it. I'm not mad at you. Lying is just kind of a soft spot to me. It's not okay, but we can talk about it in the morning. Yeah?"
"It is the morning."
Kisame snorted.
Itachi smiled a little. "Okay. Sorry for waking you up. Sleep well."
"You too."
Itachi hung up and let out a deep breath. He turned the light back out, snuggling back into the covers.
He fell asleep quickly.
Kisame watched the rain streak down his kitchen window. He listened to the bubble of the tomato soup on the stove, and the patter of heavy rain on the roof. Drops of water bounced off of the leaves of his bushes in the backyard, little streams of water forming in rivets of mud throughout the grass outside.
The doorbell rang.
Kisame wondered who in the ever fuck could be at his front door during the middle of a rainstorm—he hadn't ordered any packages lately, and he didn't think that his mailman was that dedicated.
When he opened the door, he was greeted with a drown kitten.
Not a literal drown kitten, no—it was Itachi, with black hair stuck to his face, soaked clothes, and grocery bags sagging with rain water. He just looked very much like a drown kitten.
"H-hey," Itachi started.
Kisame paused for only a moment. "What the—Itachi, what the hell happened to you?"
"I kind of got caught in the rain—"
"No shit, but how—get inside!" He shouted, grabbing onto Itachi's wrist so he could pull him out of the freezing rain.
"N-no, It's fine, I'll get water everywhere—"
Kisame pulled him inside anyways, shutting the door behind him. "Stay here," he ordered. "I'm going to get you a towel, hold on." He disappeared down the hall, headed towards the bathroom.
Itachi shifted uncomfortably in the foyer. "Kisame, I'm getting water all over your floor." He winced at how loud the droplets seemed to thump onto the nice wooden panels below him.
"I can clean up some damn water, Itachi," Kisame said, reemerging into the hallway with a fluffy white towel in his arms. He wrapped it around Itachi's shoulders and hair. "How did you get yourself into this mess?"
"I missed the bus," Itachi said quietly, fingers twitching around the grocery bags. "I was at the market and I lost track of time. I was waiting for it to come back and it started raining—so I walked to the next stop, but there was an accident on one of the roads so it had to detour, I remembered how to get to your house from where it dropped me off, but…why are you laughing."
Kisame cleared his throat to stifle his chuckles. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just…." He laughed again.
Itachi glared. "I can leave, if it's a bother."
"No, no. Shut up, Itachi." Kisame pressed both his hands to his face and stole a quick kiss. "Jeez, you're a mess. Do you want to shower?"
Itachi bit his lip. "That would be…nice. If it's okay"
"Of course. Just set your bags down here." He motioned to the mat by the door. "The guest shower has a fucky faucet, so you can use mine upstairs. I don't have any fancy conditioner shit, or anything, for your long hair, though."
Itachi rolled his eyes. "I don't have any 'fancy conditioner shit' either, so don't worry." He kicked off his shoes.
Kisame lead him up the stairs and down the hall. His bedroom was mostly white, with some soft blue tones and washed furniture.
"Canopy bed?" Itachi asked, raising an eyebrow at the large, immaculately white bed with loops of soft white fabric swaying below light wooden rods.
"Ostentatious, right? I like sleeping in luxury."
"I can tell," Itachi murmured back.
Kisame's bathroom was very clean; Itachi noticed, glancing appreciatively at the pristine white tiled counter and the swept floor. The glass shower was free of water spots, and there wasn't any hair stuck to the walls or tangled on the floor.
"You have a porno shower," Itachi muttered.
Kisame grinned widely, eyes lighting up. "Yeah? I guess you're right. We can utilize that sometime."
Itachi rolled his eyes, feeling water drip down his leg.
"You can get another towel from here," Kisame said, tapping the cabinet mounted on the wall across from the sink. "And you can use whatever you want in the shower."
"Thank you," Itachi replied quietly. "Sorry I came by so unannounced, I would have called but I was scared of getting my phone wet."
"Shush, Itachi. You're fine. Besides, I've been begging you to come over for how long now?" He chuckled. "I'll be downstairs when you're done. I'll leave some clothes that, uh, might kind of fit you on my bed."
Downstairs, Kisame turned the stove off and moved the pot so the soup could cool down. He took out some extra shepherd's bread from the wooden breadbox and spread butter and tubed garlic on it before popping it in the toaster oven. He also filled his kettle with water and set it to heat up, rummaging through one of his cupboards for whatever packets of cocoa or tea he had laying around. Itachi's groceries were still in the hallway, so he brought them into the kitchen and dumped any collected water out, drying anything with a rag that was too wet.
Itachi came down twenty minutes later, hair braided, to Kisame's delight. The clothes did not fit him in any way, but it wasn't too bad. The sweatshirt didn't look terribly out of place, and Itachi rolled the sweatpants up enough so they didn't drag on the ground as he walked.
"I won't have to stay too long, I'll call Suigetsu to come pick me up—"
"What are you talking about?" Kisame waved his hand. "Just hang out here until the rain stops."
Itachi paused in the edge of the kitchen.
"Do you have something to get to?"
"No," he responded.
"Then what's the rush?"
"Well," he fiddled with the wet end of his braid, "I don't want to impose on you or anything."
Kisame groaned. "Baby, can't you just hang out with me?"
"Do you want me to?" Itachi asked very tentatively.
"…Babe, you're way too smart for this shit."
Itachi looked at the floor.
Kisame crossed the kitchen. "Why would I not want you here?"
"I'm not—" He twisted his lips to the side. "It's been a while since I was in a relationship, remember? I just…don't want to do anything wrong."
Kisame chuckled, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing him. "You've never done anything wrong. Relax, babe." He held on to his boyfriend until he could physically assure that Itachi was relaxing. Itachi finally did let his muscles loose, melting just a little into Kisame's great big chest.
The toaster oven dinged.
"What's that?"
"Lunch is ready."
"Lunch?"
"Yeah. I was making some for myself when you showed up, but there's plenty enough for two."
"Oh, you don't need to do that—"
"Sit at the damn table, Itachi."
Itachi crossed his arms. "You keep interrupting me."
"You keep saying dumb shit."
Itachi glared.
Kisame finally did coax him into a kitchen table chair. Itachi looked terribly uncomfortable as Kisame placed a bowl of soup and a slice of garlic bread in front of him; Kisame guessed it was because he was a waiter, he probably wasn't waited on very often himself. All the more reason to spoil him.
"Thank you," Itachi murmured as he sniffed the garlic bread. "You didn't have to do all this."
"All this? The soup is from a box, babe. I didn't do much of anything."
Itachi smiled a little, looking up under his lashes. "You know what I mean."
The kettle screamed, and Kisame got up to save it from the hot stove. "You want tea? Hot chocolate?"
Itachi twisted around in the chair. "What type of tea do you have?"
"Chamomile? And uh…some passionfruit thing."
"I'll take the chamomile." He started to get up from the seat, saying, "I can make it myself, though."
"You're right!" Kisame exclaimed sarcastically. "I'll surely break my wrist tearing the wrapping off the tea bag."
Itachi's glare was deadpan.
Kisame chuckled, using the string to bob the bag in the hot water as he made his way back over to the kitchen table. "You prep enough food at your work. Let me do it, yeah?"
Itachi sighed, stirring his soup with the metal spoon. "Thank you for being so considerate."
Kisame grinned. "Considerate is my middle name, didn't you know?"
Itachi ate his soup as he waited for his tea to cool down a little. Kisame made small talk, about work and random things. The food was warm in his stomach, savory on his tongue, and by the time the two of them finished eating, he was feeling very snuggly.
"Come here," he murmured, picking up his mug of tea and holding his other hand out for Kisame.
The two of them made their way into the living room, where Itachi sat on the couch, legs folded. Kisame settled in next to him, pulling Itachi's back against his chest so he could kiss his hair. Itachi held the warm mug in his hands and listened to the rain on the roof and against the windows.
"I don't think it's going to stop storming any time soon," he murmured.
"Yeah?" Kisame asked into his hair, wrapping his arms tightly around Itachi's chest. "I guess you're stuck with me."
Itachi hummed. "That sounds lovely and all, but I do have to get to work this evening."
"Stay here until then."
"My groceries…."
"I can drop them off at your house."
Itachi rolled his eyes. "You aren't doing that."
"Why not? I don't care."
Itachi rolled his head back onto Kisame's shoulder behind him so he could look him in the eye. "Shush."
Kisame kissed his forehead. "Or you can leave the groceries here, and then come back to get them later…."
Itachi laughed a little. "Clever."
Kisame gave him a squeeze. "If you would come over more often I wouldn't have to hold your tomatoes and blueberry bagels hostage."
Itachi hummed, pressing his face against Kisame's neck. "I'll stay until I have to go to work; then I'm calling an Uber or something."
"It's fine, I'll drive you to work."
Itachi sighed. "You don't have to do that, Kisame."
"We're going in a circle, Itachi."
He pursed his lips. "Are you sure?"
"One hundred percent. Now—enough. Let's talk about something else."
Itachi looked over across the room, at the long table against the wall. It was mounted with picture frames of all different shapes, sizes, and colors. He got up from the couch, setting his mug of tea on top of a coaster on the table next to the couch, and walked over to it. There was a large, dark wooden frame in the middle; the photo was filled with people, the grinning faces of children at the bottom and some elderly people on the sides.
"My family," Kisame clarified from the couch.
Itachi raised his eyebrows. "There's a lot."
Kisame chuckled. "Yeah. Some of them aren't even blood relatives or marriage relatives, I don't think, but they're family all the same."
Itachi smiled. "It must take forever to get through all of the when you call home for Christmas," he joked.
There was a picture of Kisame and his parents in the forefront. They were both beautiful. He could tell that Kisame got his grin from his mother. Itachi's heart ached a little, so he set the frame down.
There were a couple of small photos of Kisame and his cousins. They really didn't look anything related side by side. There were some underwater photos—of sharks, or coral, or those majestic underwater canyons Kisame praised so highly. There was an accompanying picture of Kisame decked out in scuba gear, and another of him driving a giant boat. Sadly, there were no pictures of baby Kisame. That would have been cute.
Itachi ran his finger over a golden picture frame off to the side. It showcased Kisame, though he looked to be younger, with a tall, freckled girl with tan skin and dark blonde hair. He had an arm around her waist, and both of them held surfboards.
"Who's this?" Itachi asked, looking over his shoulder.
Kisame came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Itachi's shoulder. "Whom? Oh, that's Sandy."
"You look close here," Itachi noted.
Kisame chuckled. "Yeah? We should. I thought I was gonna marry her."
Itachi's eyebrows shot up.
Kisame shrugged around his shoulders. "It didn't work out, clearly."
"I'm sorry," Itachi murmured, "that must have been hard."
"Nah. I ended it."
"How come?"
Kisame was thoughtful for a moment. "Ya know, sometimes I really don't know why. We're kinda perfect for each other. My mom used to say that we were each other's counterparts." He smiled a little. "It was mostly just a gut feeling. Dating her was so…comfortable? That's not the right word. Habitual, maybe. We just kind of developed a pattern. She never pushed me as a person, and I know I didn't help her grow, either. I think that…it would have been one of those relationships where we stopped truly loving each other, but it would be too safe and easy and we would stay together out of convenience. I don't want someone like that. I want someone who keeps me on my toes, who surprises me."
Itachi looked at the picture for a few more seconds. "Do you keep in contact with her?"
"No. She was…pretty upset when I ended things. Everyone thought we were gonna marry. Her parents, my whole family—us. She didn't understand when I broke it off, she ended up taking things really hard. Did some things I hope she's not proud of."
Itachi smiled a bit. "Why do you keep this here, then?"
"First loves have a way of affecting you long after you've grown apart, don't they? I still care for her. I think of her kind of like a sister, now; I don't regret any of the time we spent together."
"But she does," Itachi inferred, setting the frame back down.
Kisame hummed. "I'm hoping not. It'd be cool to be friends again someday, after she forgives me." He loosened his hold so that Itachi could turn around in his arms. "What about you?"
"What about me."
"Any significant others?"
Itachi pressed his lips together. "There was one guy. I broke up with him two years ago, so it's been a while. I loved him while we dated, but it would have never worked out. I didn't by any means want to marry him, though. And I certainly don't want to be friends someday."
Kisame laughed. "Bad breakup?"
Bad everything. "I'm just very over him."
"Fair enough," Kisame conceded. He leaned down, kissing Itachi since he'd been dying to do it ever since Itachi showed up on his porch. "You're tea must be getting cold."
"You're right," Itachi hummed, slipping out of Kisame's grasp to return to the couch, settling down with one leg tucked under him.
"I like your hair like that," Kisame grunted, sitting down closely next to him.
"Yeah?" Itachi asked, running his hand down the braid. It was practically dry by now. "Look at this." He pulled the band off the end and began unraveling the plaits. Kisame looked disappointed at first, but his eyes lit up as he saw what Itachi was getting at. Itachi bent his head over, shaking his hair out, and then ran his hand through the now curly locks a couple of times.
"That's…fucking cute as hell, Itachi."
Itachi rolled his eyes with a little smirk. "Thought you might like it."
Kisame pushed his hands into his hair, fingers massaging at his scalp.
"Oh," Itachi murmured, fingers tightening around his mug of tea. "That feels good. Keep doing that."
Kisame grinned, pressing his thumbs behind Itachi's ears. They sat like that for a few minutes, listening to the music of the rain and the sipping of Itachi's tea.
"Can I ask you something?"
Itachi nodded, tilting his head.
"The other day, when we were on the phone…you mentioned a couple of things."
Itachi snorted delicately. "I did, didn't I?" He sighed. "Sorry. That wasn't how I meant to bring up that conversation."
"You don't need to apologize for anything, just…I was wondering about a few things."
"Yeah?" He leaned back, letting Kisame's hands regretfully leave his hair.
Kisame didn't say anything for a moment. "A prostitute?"
Itachi looked away. "Ah. That."
"That." Kisame shifted. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, I just—"
Itachi waved his hand. "It's okay, I brought it up. What do you want to know?"
Kisame furrowed his brow. "I guess, just…why?"
Itachi sighed. "Sasuke and I were going to get evicted. I was desperate. I knew a guy was did some shady dealings. He told me that if I gave him part of his profit he could get me as many clients as I needed."
"But you didn't go through with it," Kisame said, recalling Itachi's words from their phone call.
Itachi shook his head. "I backed out last minute."
"What stopped you?"
Itachi bit his lip. "I'd never felt so incredibly awful. I was in my room, getting ready, and in that moment all I could think was I would have honestly rather had all of my fingernails pulled off one by one than go to that man's house. I threw up for like…twenty minutes." He shrugged. "I couldn't go through with it. Probably for the better; Sasuke would have never forgiven me."
"Why not?"
Itachi looked at him for a moment. "He wouldn't want me to do that. He would know how it would fuck me up. Especially after—" He snapped his mouth shut.
Kisame looked concerned. "After…?"
"Nothing," he corrected. "I just—I'm touchy about sex. You can tell, I'm sure."
Kisame let it drop, thankfully.
"Besides, if I had gotten an STD or something…then it would all have been pointless; I can't take care of Sasuke if I'm dead, or dying."
"Does Sasuke know how bad it got now? Have you told him?"
"No. There's no way I could explain it to him without letting him know what my plans were. He would probably ignore me for weeks to punish me."
"Even though you didn't actually do it?" Kisame sounded confused.
"Sasuke doesn't…approve of me shouldering all the finances. I didn't let him take any loans out in his name for college, and I won't let him get a job…." He trailed off, looking at nothing in particular. "He doesn't seem to think that I take very good care of myself."
"This may be too personal, but…how come you don't get a better job? I mean, not that there's anything wrong with what you do but—couldn't you be a teacher at a high school, or something? I mean, you know everything, right?"
"Not even close," Itachi brushed off the compliment. "And no, I can barely get the in-home tutors I have now. I never went to college, so I don't have a degree in anything. I'm lucky for the jobs I have landed."
Kisame looked shocked. "Why didn't you finish college? It couldn't have been too hard for you."
Itachi looked him very calmly in the eye. "Sasuke and I cannot afford two college loans, Kisame. I chose not to go so that Sasuke could have the chance."
Kisame blinked. "That's…a really big sacrifice, Itachi."
He shrugged. "It was the obvious choice."
Kisame was silent for a moment. "Can I ask you another question?"
"You're full of them today," he teased, but his smile was soft. "Go ahead."
Kisame said gruffly, "how often do you skip meals?"
Itachi groaned, letting himself flop back against the couch armrest. "I don't starve myself."
"That wasn't my question."
"You're turning into my brother," Itachi grumbled. "I usually skip breakfast—don't give me that look, eating that early makes me sick, anyway, so I usually wait till lunch. Sometimes I don't eat lunch if I don't have time. I almost always eat dinner with Sasuke."
"Hm."
Itachi rolled his eyes. "I'm perfectly fine. Do I look starving to you?"
"No," Kisame conceded, grabbing Itachi's hands to pull him back up into a sitting position. "But I don't like the thought of you not taking care of yourself."
Itachi raised an eyebrow. "Keep this up and I'll start accidentally calling you Sasuke."
"Yeah? I can fix that." He reached out, cupping Itachi's face with both hands. "Come here; Sasuke doesn't do this, huh?" He pulled Itachi's face against his, sliding their lips together, softly at first. Itachi closed his eyes, pressing himself closer just slightly, and let his hand cup Kisame's infuriatingly attractive jawline. Kisame had one hand in his hair, the other on his waist, and began to move his lips more roughly.
Kisame just barely had his tongue past Itachi's lips when Itachi's phone rang.
Kisame sighed, leaning back. "I'm never gonna get to just make out with you, am I…."
Itachi gave him a smile and rolled his eyes, answering his cell. "Sasuke." He paused. "No, the bus had to take a detour and I ended up stopping by Kisame's house. He said he'll take me to work." Another pause. "Thanks for offering, but I think he's pretty insistent about it." Itachi pushed some wavy hair behind his ear. "What am I doing now? Well, right before you called Kisame was trying to get his tongue on the roof of my mouth. Why do you ask?" He laughed. "His hands are very appropriately on his lap. Do you want to talk to him?" Kisame could just barely hear the buzzing from the speaker. "I'll tell him. Work hard, I'll be home for dinner."
"He said that if you put your hands anywhere but my shoulders he'll cut them off," Itachi announced pleasantly, ending the call and turning to face Kisame again.
"Oh, yeah?" Kisame muttered, immediately sliding his hands down Itachi's waist and to his hips. Itachi almost giggled. "C'mere, let me kiss you."
"And let you face my brother's wrath?" Itachi teased, scooting closer. "I'm protecting you, really."
"Can you make out with me for, like, ten minutes?" Kisame demanded, almost pouting.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Itachi drawled, rolling his eyes. But, he did relent, mercifully for Kisame's sake. It was much passed ten minutes by the time Kisame did get his tongue to the roof of Itachi's mouth—if only just to prove that he could do it. Itachi bit down on Kisame's lower lip, and Kisame pulled him into his lap, gripping his hips firmly.
"If I bruise," Itachi mumbled against Kisame's lips, letting his tongue roll over them, "no matter the reason, Sasuke will kill you."
"How is Sasuke gonna know if you have bruises on your hips, huh?" Kisame asked around kisses.
"He just knows."
Kisame pressed his thumb to Itachi's jaw, coaxing his mouth open to he could slide his tongue inside and against Itachi's. Itachi made a little sound in the back of his throat, both hands gripping onto Kisame's face. Kisame ran his hands down his back, across to his hips, and then back up to his shoulders. Itachi tentatively let the tip of his tongue brush against the top of Kisame's, and he groaned in encouragement.
Itachi broke apart to breathe, his lips glistening, and Kisame pressed kisses up and down his neck, rough hands squeezing him along his ribcage.
"Maybe we should stop," Itachi breathed.
"Why would we do that?" Kisame murmured, tilting Itachi's chin up so he had access to that perfect jawline.
"You know why."
Kisame chuckled, giving Itachi one last, deep kiss before he pulled away. "Yeah, okay."
Itachi caught his breath for a moment. "I should be upfront with you," he said around a clear of his throat.
"'Bout what?" Kisame grunted, putting one arm behind him on the back rest of the couch.
"If you're…if you anticipating sex, or—"
"Didn't we already clarify that—"
"Just listen to me," Itachi persisted, covering Kisame's mouth with his hand. "I trust that you aren't trying to take advantage of me, but I'm just saying…if you're looking forward to sex, or whatever, just…don't count on it."
Kisame raised an eyebrow, gesturing pointedly to the hand over his face. "Is that all?" He asked when Itachi removed it.
Itachi glared. "I'm trying to be serious. Could you at least pretend to care about what I'm saying?"
"Who says I don't care?" Kisame defended. "I'm just not sure why you keep bringing this up."
"Keep bringing this up? Isn't it important to talk about this? I don't want you entering into a relationship expecting sex when you aren't going to get any."
Kisame clicked his tongue. "You know, Itachi, if I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to break up right now."
Itachi recoiled. "No," he whispered, shaking his head, "I'm not trying to—"
"I said if I didn't know any better." He hummed. "You just push people away as a reflex instead of accepting them, I understand that. I mean, I don't get it myself, but that's how you are."
Itachi let his eyes close as Kisame's thumb rubbed against his temple. "I just don't want to lead you on. I don't want to hurt you."
Kisame smiled just a little. "Thank you. But I can take care of myself." He winked. "In multiple ways."
There was silence for a moment.
"God dammit," Itachi muttered, looking down.
"What's wrong?"
"I always do this, I always pick fights. I keep fucking up everything." His hair obscured part of his face.
Kisame laughed. "What are you talking about?" He pushed the hair behind Itachi's ear. "You haven't done anything wrong. I'm glad that you want to talk things out." He pulled Itachi forward.
Itachi let Kisame pull him in, nudging himself a little closer. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
"Mind what?"
Itachi shrugged a little lifelessly. "That I'm such a bad boyfriend."
Kisame rolled his eyes. "You aren't a bad boyfriend, geez. You can do whatever you want with your body, okay? Besides, you aren't saying no sex ever. Just until you can trust me well enough. That's completely reasonable." He grinned, leaning in. "Besides, I'm very confident in my ability to win you over."
Itachi stayed staring at his shoulder.
"That was a joke, you know."
"I know."
"Then could you smile?"
Itachi looked up. "I'd laugh at your jokes if they were actually funny."
"Oh, so that's how it is, huh?"
Itachi's lips twitched.
Kisame picked up both of his hands, holding them tightly between his. "I don't want you to feel stressed out around me—wow, your hands are really fucking dry," he commented, feeling how rough the skin was along the tops of his knuckles.
"It's from the bleach," Itachi answered quietly, pushing his fingers in between Kisame's so he could hold his hand properly.
"Bleach?"
"From the restaurant. You have to rinse the dishes off in water, wash them with soap, bleach them, use soap again, rinse, and then dry." He shrugged. "The waiters all are expected to wash dishes, and I usually get stuck back there the most."
"There aren't gloves?"
"There are," Itachi replied, "but you know how it is."
Kisame smiled a little, squeezing Itachi's hands. "Use lotion."
Itachi wrinkled his nose. "I can't stand lotion. I'd rather have crackling hands."
Kisame snorted. "You're one of a kind, Itachi. C'mere," he ordered gently, leaning back into the armrest of the couch. Itachi crawled over him, settling in between his legs and laying his head on Kisame's chest. Kisame wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly. "Feeling better?" he asked, watching the way Itachi's hair bent from the crease of the braid as it cascaded around him.
"I feel fine."
Kisame tsk'd. "You were upset."
"Because I'm a mess. You don't need to worry yourself about that."
Kisame shook his head. He kissed the top of his head.
Itachi pressed his lips together. "This is good," he said quietly.
"Hm?"
"This makes me feel better. I like this."
Kisame grinned. "Well, that makes my job easier, doesn't it?"
Itachi smiled against his chest.
Kisame listened to Itachi breathe for a few minutes, a sound he was becoming attached to surprisingly quickly. The rain still beat away at his roof. He eventually stretched one arm back to dig into the drawer of the side table behind him, rummaging for the stereo remote.
Soft music floated from the speakers, and Itachi shifted in his arms. "Who is this?" he asked sleepily.
"Sade. Have you heard of her?"
Itachi shook his head, lifting up his head. He propped himself up by his forearms leaning on Kisame's chest. It brought them nose to nose. "She has a nice voice," he murmured.
Kisame nodded. "I used to listen to this as I went to bed."
"You're trying to get me to fall asleep?" Itachi accused.
Kisame chuckled out a throaty sound, the noise coming from deep in his chest. He leaned forward, letting his nose press against Itachi's wavy hair. "Mm. I like that."
"Like what?"
"You used my soap. And now you smell like me."
Itachi snorted. "You're weird."
The two of them stayed like that for a while longer, talking and joking—and kissing a little, of course, although those kisses weren't like the teasing, wet kisses from before. They were softer, and sweeter and Kisame held Itachi's face the whole time.
Eventually the time for Itachi to head to work swung around. Kisame moaned and groaned about it, trapping Itachi against his chest and embracing him tightly, kissing his hair and his face and the back of his neck.
Itachi wiggled in his arms, unsure how to deal with the affections, but enjoying it nonetheless.
"Kisame," he laughed as his boyfriend pressed rough lips to his eyelids, "I can't be late! We have to go; you're the one that insisted on driving me there in the first place."
Kisame let out a big sigh. "Fine. I'll get the car keys." He kissed Itachi one more time, got up from the couch, and made his way back into the kitchen, stretching his arms behind his head.
Itachi stayed sitting on the couch, smiling after him, until he realized what he was doing and brought a hand up to cover his face. He quickly went upstairs and took his borrowed clothes off, fetching his own from off the top of the shower and redressing. They were still damp, but the ride was short, Itachi had a spare set of work clothes in his work locker. Before he left Kisame's bedroom, he darted to the closet, pawing through his clothes until he reached his sweatshirts. Biting his smiling lower lip between his teeth, he slipped a dark blue one off of the hanger, wadding it up in his arms.
"What's that?" Kisame asked with a raised eyebrow as Itachi stepped off the staircase.
Itachi gave him a cheeky smile and brushed passed him.
"…so fucking cute, too fucking cute…." Itachi heard him mutter as Kisame opened the garage door.
Kisame had never been to the restaurant before, but Itachi was aware enough of his surroundings to give him adequate directions.
"I'll give you your other sweatshirt next time I see you," Itachi said, unbuckling his belt as Kisame pulled into a parking space.
"And that will be….?"
Itachi sighed, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "As soon as possible," he promised, opening the car door.
"What—that's it? Just a kiss on the cheek?" Kisame teased, grinning.
Itachi paused, snorted, and leaned back. Kisame held Itachi's face in place, connecting their lips just long enough that Itachi's stomach started to wiggle.
"Take care, beautiful," Kisame murmured when he released him.
Itachi blinked. "Yeah, you too." He hopped out of the truck, sending his boyfriend a quick wave as he made his way to the door.
He snagged his work clothes, exchanging them for the sweatshirt. He dressed quickly, happy to get the damp clothes off of him. He went to the kitchen to start on dishwashing, tying his long hair up into a bun, since there weren't any new customers to seat.
A crusty layer at the bottom of a black pan was trying his patience when one of the cooks spoke up.
"You're in a good mood," Adam, the cook, commented.
Itachi looked up from his work, blowing a string of black hair off the side. "Pardon?"
Adam shrugged. "You seem like you're in a much better mood than usual."
Itachi tilted his head. "And why would you say that?" He wasn't acting any different than how he usually was.
"I don't know. It just seems that way. You must have had a good day, or something."
Itachi looked back down into the water so he didn't have to meet his eyes.
"Must have."
"Tadaima."
Itachi blinked up from the desk chair he was fixing, pressing a thumb to his glasses so they wouldn't slide off of his nose. "Hey, there you are. I was wondering when you'd be coming home."
Sasuke tossed his school bag onto the couch, sitting next to Itachi on the floor. "I was out with friends. What are you doing?"
"The screw in my chair snapped. Or something. I guess." Itachi shrugged. He tilted the seat of the chair up, trying to identify the problem. "So, I'm attempting to fix it."
Sasuke watched him fiddle with the screw driver for a few seconds. "…you have no idea what you're doing, do you."
"Not a clue," Itachi agreed, dropping his arm and leaning back against the couch.
"Have you tried looking up a youtube video on it?" Sasuke asked with a chuckle, ducking his head to try to locate the issue.
"Yeah, but none of them helped. Maybe I'll ask Kisame to fix it," he said, wrinkling his nose. With a sighed, he tossed the screwdriver back into the case he got it from. "How was your day?"
Sasuke shrugged. "As usual."
"Who were you hanging out with?"
"Suigetsu, Karin, this guy in my statistics class name Shino, Naruto—"
"Naruto?" Itachi asked. "So you two are on speaking terms, again?"
"Oh, uh, yeah."
"Otouto," Itachi whined. "You never tell me anything anymore." He nudged Sasuke's shoulder. "C'mon, talk to me."
"There's nothing really to tell."
Itachi straightened his back, waiting patiently.
Sasuke sighed. "Geez, you're nosy. Well, uh—we…decided to try."
"Try what?"
Sasuke glared. "What do you think?"
Itachi smiled harmlessly. "So you're dating now?"
Sasuke shrugged one shoulder. "I guess."
"And is that what you want?"
"I don't know, that's why we're just trying. We don't know what's gonna happen." Sasuke crossed his arms. "Who knows what I'm expecting, Naruto's such an idiot, anyway."
Itachi leaned his head on Sasuke's shoulder. "An idiot that makes your heart feel all warm inside."
"Naruto does not give me heartburn."
Itachi laughed a little.
Sasuke shifted. "Is that what Kisame does? Make you feel like that?"
Itachi stared at the ground. "Yeah. He does."
"So you two…are doing well?"
Itachi lifted his head up to send Sasuke a playful glare. "Heaven's sake, Sasuke, could you sound anymore awkward?"
Sasuke stiffened defensively, and Itachi could only imagine a cat's hair spiking up. "I do not sound awkward. I just don't know what to ask."
"Because you want to make sure I'm still pure." Itachi snickered. "You'll be happy to know that our relationship is still very unconsummated."
Sasuke glared at him, but his shoulders relaxed infinitesimally. "But he's—you like him?"
Itachi nodded.
Sasuke pursed his lips. "And he hasn't, like, shown any red flags?"
Itachi shook his head. "Nope. And I've been looking. I told him, too, about my hesitations when it comes to sex, and he was nothing but understanding."
"They all say that," he muttered.
"Sasuke," Itachi murmured, a gentle reprimand.
"I just mean—yeah, okay, sorry. I'm supposed to be less cynical. I'm supposed to be supportive."
"I appreciate the effort," Itachi said dryly, but he leaned forward to kiss Sasuke's forehead before getting up off the floor and heading into the kitchen. "You already eat?"
"Yeah," Sasuke replied. "Are you going over to his place again soon?"
Itachi took out a container of strawberry yogurt from the fridge. "I don't know," he replied, peeling off the foil cover. It had been over a week since they had last met in person. "Hopefully soon."
"You are eating more than just a small thing of yogurt, Itachi," Sasuke scolded.
Itachi shrugged, spooning up a pink, jiggly glob. "I need to go shopping." The people at the restaurant had been stingy with their tips, and there was another college loan payment due in a week.
Sasuke glared, getting up so he could rummage through the freezer. "Here," he said, producing a pack of frozen chicken. "I'll fry this up, get the breadcrumbs."
Itachi hummed. "I'm fine, Sasuke, we can save that for later."
Sasuke whirled around, pointing a very demanding finger in Itachi's face. "You're gonna get the damn breadcrumbs so I can make this for you, or I'm gonna shove it down your throat frozen."
Itachi rolled his eyes, setting the yogurt down and moving to the pantry.
"Fucking child," he heard Sasuke mutter from the stove.
"Language."
Itachi loaded his arms up with two large bowls and a few plates, empty and half empty cups stacked and tucked under his arm. He was rushing them to the kitchen when he heard the restaurant door open. "Welcome," he called out, blowing a wayward clump of hair off of his face. He dumped the dishes into the sink and spun around, grabbing a menu and turning towards the door—
And there, in all of his grinning glory—
"Welcome to Oh Mai Pho!" Itachi didn't even miss a beat. "Table for one?"
Kisame grinned. "Yeah; I was gonna go out to lunch with my super hot boyfriend, but I think he's working right now."
Itachi refrained from rolling his eyes. "Right this way, Sir," he responded politely, leading Kisame to an empty two person table by the window.
"Sir?" Kisame chuckled from behind him. "Can't say I mind that at all."
Itachi slapped the menu down on the table. "I'll be right back to get your drink order," he said as politely as possible while still gritting the words out between his teeth.
After checking in with two of his tables and bringing an extra side of pho toppings for a woman, he returned to Kisame.
"You're looking a little frazzled," Kisame commented gruffly.
"We're understaffed; someone who was supposed to have shift now called in sick," Itachi sighed. "What can I get you to drink?"
"Water is fine," Kisame replied, head resting on his folded hands, grinning.
Itachi raised an eyebrow. "Typically people look at the menu to decide what to order,"
Kisame grinned. "I'm looking at what I want to eat right now."
Itachi rolled his eyes. "It's lunch rush, so I can't waste any time with you. I'll be back in a few to take your order."
A couple walked in and he quickly seated them at a table and took their drink order. He could feel Kisame's eyes on him as he moved about the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant.
When he returned to his boyfriend's table with a glass of water, Kisame said, "You look good with your hair up in a bun."
Itachi ignored him. "Have you decided what you want to order?"
"Surprise me."
Itachi rolled his head back. "Kisame," he groaned.
Kisame's eyes roved up and down him. "Careful; that sends me a lot of implications."
"Why are you even here?" Itachi asked, pushing wayward hair out of his face—his bun was falling apart, and all sorts of black strands were slipping out and around his head.
"Can't I have lunch at the best Vietnamese place on the block?" He asked, trying to be innocent. "But, I mean, you might have something to do it."
"Hm, might."
Kisame smiled, folding his arms across his chest. "Is it a crime to see my boyfriend at work?"
Itachi sighed. "Let me take your order."
"I told you, I want a surprise."
"I can't do that; it's against restaurant policy."
"Fine." Kisame flicked through the menu. "Number…37."
"Anything else you'd like?"
"You, naked, and in my bed?" Kisame suggested.
Itachi rolled his eyes and turned on his heel. He put Kisame's order into the kitchen and returned to the tables to clear dishes and attend to customers. The kitchen was a bit bogged down, so it took longer than normal to get Kisame's food prepared.
"Brisket and rare beef pho," Itachi announced, carefully setting the steaming white bowl in front of Kisame. He placed the toppings next to it. "Anything else you need?"
Kisame shook his head.
Itachi paused before he left. "How did you even know I was working now? I've never told you that I double shift on Thursdays."
Kisame grinned. "You know Rhea, my coworker with the cat? Turns out her boyfriend is one of the cooks that works the weekends!" He broke a pair of chopsticks apart. "I had dinner with them the other night to celebrate a finished blueprint the two of us collaborated on, and he was gracious enough to mention that you work the lunch shift on Thursdays."
Itachi gave him a dead stare.
"I'm telling you, Itachi," Kisame slurped up some noodles, "this world keeps getting smaller and smaller."
"I'm gonna kill Adam," Itachi muttered as he left to go clear a table. The party left a generous tip, which put a little bounce in his step and he moved about the room for the next few minutes.
A few minutes later, after returning a bill to a table, he made his rounds to all of his customers and checked back in on Kisame. "How is everything?"
"This may be the second most delicious thing in the room," Kisame noted.
Itachi didn't manage to stop the smile that twitched at the corners of his lips. "You're annoying."
"And yet you keep coming back for more," Kisame said teasingly.
"Don't push it."
Kisame made a show of stuffing his mouth with noodles.
The lunch crowd began to dwindle, and both Itachi and the other waitress, a sweet, shy girl named Naomi, breathed a sigh of relief. They were resting their tired feet in the back room for a few minutes while they had the chance.
"Hey," Naomi spoke up softly. The two talked often, as they had bonded over that hectic lunch shifts they shared. "You know that guy by the window you're waiting on?"
Itachi put his hair tie in his mouth as he redid his bun. "Yeah, what about him?"
Naomi looked down, hands clenched on her apron. "Do—do you think it would be inappropriate to ask for his number? Since I'm on the clock?"
Itachi blinked, hair band snapping against his finger as it slipped. "Uh, well—"
"I usually don't do that type of thing, especially not at work, but I was just thinking that maybe…." She bit her lip. "He's just so attractive. I'm thinking I should be the one to initiate for once."
Itachi cleared his throat. "Any other person and I would encourage you to go for it."
"Why not him?" Naomi asked with a frown.
"He's kinda—taken," Itachi clarified, pushing his bangs back with a bobby pin.
"By whom?"
Itachi give a little smile. "Me?"
"Oh," Naomi blinked, sitting back. "You're gay."
Itachi tilted his head.
"That would explain why you didn't at all pick up that I was flirting with you the first couple weeks you took the Thursday shift," she said with a deflated sigh.
Itachi laughed. "You were hitting on me back then?"
Her brow crumpled. "I'm not good at this type of thing!"
Itachi shook his head, smiling, and standing up from the bench. "Any other guy you see, I'll help you out—deal?"
"Yeah," Naomi sighed, offering Itachi a smile. "I guess I should have known you guys were dating, what with the way he looks at you."
Itachi paused. "How does he look at me?"
Naomi shrugged simply. "Like you're the sun."
Itachi was stuck for a second, unmoving. He recovered almost unnoticeably and returned to waiting tables. He got the check for Kisame's meal.
"You know," he mentioned as he slid it in front of him, gathering the used dishes in his arms, "my coworker thinks you're hot."
Kisame looked around Itachi, spotting Naomi talking to an animated customer about boba choices. "She's cute; not quite my type though."
"What is your type?"
"You." Kisame grinned. "Did you tell her I regularly stick my tongue in your mouth?"
"In fewer words," Itachi answered vaguely. He drummed his fingers against his leg. "She—she said that you look at me…like I'm the sun."
Kisame shrugged. "You are." He pulled his wallet out and offered Itachi his credit card.
Itachi took it silently, producing the staff iPod from his apron and sliding the credit card into the adapter. He gave handed it over to Kisame to sign. Kisame took a ten dollar bill out of his wallet as he stood up.
"What is this?" Itachi asked as Kisame pressed it into his chest.
"It's a tip."
"That's too much," Itachi protested, trying to force it back.
"The food was marvelous, I was waited on perfectly," he winked, "and the staff is beyond gorgeous." Donning a more serious expression, he said, "I'm serious, babe, take it. You've been working your ass off; go treat yourself."
Itachi fisted the bill in his hand, looking at the ground.
"You wouldn't reject it from anyone else; just because I'm your boyfriend, I can't be generous? Isn't it usually the opposite?" Kisame leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you around." As he turned to leave, Itachi grabbed his arm firmly and pulled him back around abruptly. He leaned up and—seeing that there were only a couple people in the restaurant now and none of them were looking towards the two—gave Kisame a real kiss, albeit a short one. Kisame immediately pushed his fingers into Itachi's hair.
"I'm sorry I've been so busy," he murmured, leaning forward into Kisame's chest. "I know we don't get to see each other all that often."
"It's alright, Itachi," Kisame chuckled.
"I should still make time for you," he muttered, pressing his face into Kisame's neck for a moment. "I'll call you tonight?" He looked up into Kisame's eyes.
He wondered when he would get used to how damn intense they were.
Kisame smiled and kissed his forehead. "Yeah, that sounds good. I look forward to it. Don't overwork yourself," he ordered as he departed.
Itachi watched him leave, wishing that he could follow him. He was starting to miss him more and more when they weren't together.
"You have the same look," Naomi said, appearing out of nowhere.
Itachi started a bit, head whipping around. "Pardon?"
"You look at him the same way," she replied, a stack of plates at her hip. "You know, like he's the sun."
"I'm still mad at you for showing up at my work." Itachi had his phone cradled between his head and his shoulder, stirring a pot of boiling spaghetti. He had gotten home just in time to prepare dinner for Sasuke and his friends, who were coming over in just a few minutes.
"Aw come one, how come?"
"You're either going to make fun of me over it or make sex jokes over it for weeks to come."
"What? Me? Itachi, what makes you think I would ever do something like that."
Itachi laughed a little. "I wonder." He used a pair of chopsticks to catch one of the strings of spaghetti, blowing the curling, translucent smoke away to cool it off.
"I promise I'll be good." Kisame didn't sound the least bit sincere.
Itachi snorted. "Since when have you ever been good?"
Kisame chuckled. "Oh, Itachi what a naïve thing to say. Do you know how I would be acting if I was being bad?"
"Enlighten me," Itachi replied coyly.
"You sure you're ready for that conversation?"
Itachi bit into the noodle, measuring the texture in his mouth. "See? You can't even talk about these things rationally."
Kisame laughed. "Fine, I'll prove it, if that's what you need."
Itachi hummed. He could hear Kisame sigh on the other end of the line.
"Damn, Itachi, you know how much I love talking to you, but it sometimes kind of makes me sad."
"Sad?"
"Yeah. Because I want you with me."
Itachi smiled to himself as he felt his heart warm up. "Such a romantic, that's what you are."
"I'm serious. I wish you were here right now. I wish I could hold you and kiss you and run my hands through your hair."
"I know. I'm sorry, 'Same." He picked up the pot of noodles and carefully drained it over the strainer. "Can you take lunch off tomorrow? We can meet somewhere. And I always have Saturday evenings free if you want to hang out." He tossed the spilt pasta from the strainer back into the pot and moved to check on the sauce.
"Mm, I don't think I can do tomorrow; this contracting deal just got real tight and we've been working our asses off to meet the demands. But Saturday is for sure." He heard shuffling over the phone. "Come to my place?"
"Yeah," Itachi agreed, adding more basil to the sauce. He heard more shuffling. "What are you doing?"
"Taking my clothes off," Kisame replied.
Itachi snorted. "I thought you said you would be good?"
"I'm being plenty good," Kisame protested. "Did you want me to sleep in my jeans?"
"It's far too early to go to bed." Itachi picked up the heavy pan and began to pour the thick red sauce over the noodles.
"I didn't say I was going to sleep yet."
"Be good."
"I was talking about television, but now I know where your mind is at. I won't protest if you want to help me out. I can send you pictures."
"You're growing way too comfortable with the sex talk," Itachi laughed, stirring the spaghetti with a wooden spoon to spread out the sauce.
"Am I? It's all because of that damn bun, I bet."
Itachi laughed a little. "Yeah? You like my hair that much?" Itachi squatted by a cabinet, looking for the large pasta bowl.
"Oh, Itachi. Do I like your hair?"
Itachi snorted. "I don't get it."
"Don't get what?"
"Why you like my hair so much. It's just hair. I don't even take that good care of it."
"Yeah? Well, why do you like my tattoos so much? It's just ink."
Itachi grinned. "Fine. You got me."
There was a knock on the door, then, and Sasuke went bounding down the hall to answer it. Naruto burst inside happily, Karin hanging onto him. Juugo and Suigetstu followed.
"Onii-chan!" Naruto exclaimed, affectionately using the Japanese term he had adopted ever since he bullied Sasuke into teaching it to him.
"Be quiet," Sasuke said in a sing song voice, "Nii-san is on the phone with his boyfriend."
Over Suigetsu's laughter, Itachi said, "I should probably go now; Sasuke's friends are here."
"Damn," Kisame said. "Text me before you go to bed."
"I will," Itachi promised, pouring the pasta into a large bowl and moving to set it on the table in the middle of the kitchen. "I'll see you Saturday."
"Bye, babe."
The five of them all took their seats at the table—each chair mismatched as they had to gather them from random places in the apartment—as Itachi took the garlic bread out of the oven and placed it on a plate next to the pasta and salad.
"Nii-san always cooks pasta when you guys come over because he's a shit cook and boiling water is pretty much the most he can manage," Sasuke commented cheekily.
"I wouldn't be so rude to the one who puts food on the table," Itachi murmured playfully in response, taking a seat.
"I, for one, love spaghetti very much," Karin announced, placing a heaping scoop onto her plate.
"Thank you, Karin," Itachi replied sweetly, covering up Suigetsu's comment of 'don't eat so much, you fat cow.' Or something like that.
The five of them immediately devolved into joking and light banter, each of them taking turns between ribbing and defending Itachi.
Itachi's eyes moved between all of them, a fond smile on his lips. It was a lovely little family Sasuke had made. He was glad that Sasuke found a family after being without one for so long.
As Itachi nudged the pasta around his plate, he couldn't help but think that Kisame might just complete the picture sitting in the empty chair next to him.