"Goddammit, Itachi!"
Itachi leaned calmly against the counter. "I do not understand why you are so upset."
"You don't—understand why I'm upset?" Sasuke ran both of his hands over his head, frustration curling his fingers and jerking the movement. "You're being fucking absurd!"
Itachi merely stared at him patiently.
"God," Sasuke squeezed his eyes shut. "Why do you have to be this way?"
"I'm only looking out for you," Itachi replied.
"No, you're fucking not!" Sasuke shouted. "You aren't even listening to me!"
"You're being irrational."
Sasuke's jaw dropped a little. "Irrational? I'm fucking twenty one, and asking to be treated like an adult is irrational?"
Itachi pinched the bridge. "Can we please stop fighting about this now?"
"No! No we fucking cannot." Sasuke glared.
"Language—"
"Shut the fuck up, Itachi! For two minutes could you listen to me?!"
"I did listen to you. And I disagreed; there's no reason for all the anger."
Sasuke pressed his fists to his forehead. "Look—I know that you mean the best. Okay? I know that. But what you are doing right now is not the best."
Itachi rolled his eyes a little.
"Don't—don't roll your fucking eyes at me!"
"I do know what's best for you, Sasuke. I've taken care of you your whole life."
"This isn't the issue! The issue is you. What about you. You don't take care of yourself!"
"And that's my problem to deal with." Itachi crossed his arms.
"No, no it fucking isn't, because I'm your brother, and I'm the one who has to pick up the pieces when you fall apart!"
Itachi's eyes narrowed a little. "I never asked you to get involved with my problems."
Sasuke stared at him, wide-eyed. "Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?!"
Itachi let out a breath. "I still don't see how this has anything to do with—"
"It has everything to do with what we're talking about, stop trying to avoid it," Sasuke snapped. "You're being too controlling about this."
Itachi pressed his lips together. "I am your older brother, and you will respect my authority."
"Since when have I not?!" Sasuke exploded, throwing his arms out to the side. "Name one time I've been disrespectful."
"You're raising your voice a lot right now," Itachi replied evenly.
"Because I want to be treated like an adult."
"My name is on the lease, my name is on the checks I bring home, so I make the rules," Itachi all but snapped. "And that's that, so stop arguing with me."
Something in Sasuke seemed to click, then, and he calmed down a little, arms dropping to his sides. "You're right."
Itachi let out a quick sigh, turning around. "Good, I'm glad that's over. Now—"
"I'm moving out."
Itachi froze. "…what?"
"You're right, you're in control here. But you're also acting fucking insane, and I can't live with you anymore if this is how it's gonna be."
Itachi blinked down at the counter, unable to say anything because suddenly he couldn't breathe.
"If you want to be this way, fine. If you're just going to ignore me and my feelings and suck someone's dick for money, clearly I can't stop you. But you can do it alone, because I'm not going to sit around and watch you kill yourself over your stupid fucking ideologies."
Itachi still wasn't looking at him, stuck staring at the counter, muscles literally frozen as his blood seemed to turn cold. He could hear Sasuke's voice travel down the hallway, and then a door slammed.
The silence rang in his ears, loud enough to hurt, like a bad case of tinnitus. And his skin was crawling, and the walls seemed to be getting smaller. He managed to push himself away from the counter, grabbing the key off the counter.
Sasuke didn't hear the door click behind him.
Kisame put his dirty dishes in the washer and shut the faucet off. As he dried his hands off on white wash cloth, he heard his phone buzzing on the counter.
"Yeah?" He answered, pushing a chair in to the kitchen table.
"U-uh hey, Kisame."
"Suigetsu?" The skin of his forehead crinkled a little as his eyebrows rose up. "What a surprise. What's up?"
"Is Itachi at your place?"
Kisame paused. "No…he isn't. Why do you ask?"
"He's—uh. I don't know. Sasuke's freaking out."
"What do you mean. Suigetsu, tell me what happened." Every nerve ending in his body started buzzing, his whole body feeling like a live wire. "Is Itachi okay?"
"I don't know, I—yeah, I should probably get back to Sasuke, he's—he's freaking the fuck out."
"Suigetsu, tell me what happened."
"Shit, I don't know. Sasuke said they got into a fight. A really, really bad fight. Itachi up and left and hasn't been back home, for like, four hours?" He let out a breath. "I don't know, Sasuke is really upset. He keeps saying that it's his fault."
"Is there a place Itachi usually goes to when he's stressed?" Kisame asked, grabbing his truck keys off of the counter and making his way towards the garage.
"No, not that I know of at least. Sasuke doesn't either, he's been calling his cell but hasn't gotten anything. That's why I called you. I thought maybe you would know where he might go. I was hoping he went to your place."
Kisame hit the garage door button.
Suigetsu heard the noise over the phone. "Where are you going?"
"I'll go find him."
"Do you think he'll answer your calls?"
"Who knows; I have no idea what he's thinking right now. I'll try." He climbed into his truck, slamming the door loudly.
"And if he doesn't?"
Kisame twisted his key in the ignition, the familiar engine thrumming to life. He shut the radio off and turned the air to the lowest setting. "It'll be a scavenger hunt, then, won't it?"
"You're gonna drive aimlessly until you find him?"
"You got a better idea?"
"No. No, just—thank you, I guess."
"Anything. Anything for him," Kisame grunted. "I'm gonna call him now." He snapped his seatbelt into place.
"Let me know if you find him. I'll tell Sasuke you're looking for him."
Kisame quickly placed a call to Itachi as soon as Suigetsu hung up, twisting around to look out the back window as he backed out of his garage. The first call went unanswered. He hit redial as he headed down the street.
It took a couple more tries, but eventually, just as Kisame was about to start cursing, the phone clicked with a very quiet "hello."
"Itachi." Kisame's voice came out more relieved than he thought it would.
"Sasuke called you," Itachi inferred softly.
"Actually, no. Suigetsu did, he said that you skipped out on Sasuke and haven't been home in a while. Your brother's worried sick, Itachi."
"I didn't want that," Itachi nearly whispered.
Kisame softened a little at his tone. "I know, babe, it's okay. Tell me where you are."
"Why?"
"I'm on my way to come get you."
"Oh." He paused. "Sorry. I'm being troublesome."
"Just tell me where you are," Kisame repeated patiently, pulling over and turning his hazard lights on.
"…I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I didn't bring my wallet with me when I left. I used the money in my pocket and got on a random bus. When I used it all up I got off at whatever random stop we arrived at. I walked a little." He sighed. "I've never been here before."
Kisame pressed his lips together. "How were you planning on getting home?"
Itachi didn't answer.
Kisame tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. "Can you tell me what you see?"
"Uh—there's lots of trees, and the roads here are all dirt. I'm on a cliff, kind of. There's a ridge and I can see the city—"
"You're in Pointbluff," Kisame replied, turning his blinker on and merging back into traffic, "up by the mountain reserves."
"Oh."
"Stay there, okay? I'll be there in thirty minutes."
"Yeah," Itachi muttered. "Okay."
Kisame arrived at a red light and, after quickly scanning for cops, sent Suigetsu a text.
He finally answered. He's not hurt, but he is stupid as hell. I'm going to go get him and I'll bring him home, but tell Sasuke not to wait up. He got pretty far, it'll be close to two hours probably.
fuck, okay. we fuckin owe you for this one. tell him that sasuke loves him, no matter what. probably needs to hear that right now.
Kisame looked down at the text for a moment, wondering what could have transpired.
I'm sure he knows. I'll remind him, though.
that's the thing. with Itachi you never know. it's easier for him to deal with the pain of being unloved than accept the fact that people care for him.
Another text a few seconds later. be careful with what you say to him. ill take care of sasuke.
Kisame merged onto the freeway and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat; he wasn't that good at texting and driving.
He drove almost fifteen miles over the speed limit, mostly because the lanes were so empty. The only people who headed up to Pointbluff at night were horny teenagers who wanted to get it on in the secrecy of the trees and mountains.
The thought of Itachi accidently walking in on that situation made him snort.
He exited the freeway and navigated his way through backroads until he hit dirt paths that led up a long trail. He followed the curvature along the edge of the foothill. If Itachi could see the city lights, he was most likely at lookout ridge.
Itachi was indeed where Kisame predicted, sitting on a rock with his knees bent up against his chest, shivering.
"Didn't remember a jacket?" Kisame asked, getting out of his car and shutting the door behind him. The noise echoed off of the mountains.
Itachi shrugged around a shiver. "Wasn't thinking very much."
"Clearly," Kisame replied blandly. He moved around his car to grab the blanket he kept in the back. "Come here and sit on the hood; it'll warm you up."
Itachi stiffly unfolded, hopping onto the hood—which did feel very nice—and murmured out a thanks as Kisame wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. He took a seat next to him.
"Sasuke has a message for you," he started.
Itachi looked up at him. "A message?"
"He wants you to know that he isn't mad at you. I was asked to remind you of how much he loves you."
Itachi frowned a little. "You were asked."
"What?"
"'You were asked,' not 'Sasuke asked me.'"
Kisame chuckled. "Observant. I didn't talk to him, Suigetsu spoke to me for him. Sasuke was too upset to talk to me himself."
Itachi's eyes changed at that, and he looked away, towards the dusty ground illuminated by Kisame's headlights. "I love him, too."
Kisame grinned, leaning back. There was very little light pollution where they were, and the stars were bright, contrasted intensely against the black sky. "I know. Makes me wonder how this all happened."
"We fought." Itachi rested his chin on his knees.
"So I was told."
There was a moment of silence. The distant sound of traffic whisked up the mountain side, gently, as if it was being carried with the light breeze, and Kisame's engine clicked beneath them as it calmed down. Kisame could smell the stringy leaves of the pepper trees around them.
"What do you need from me, Itachi," Kisame eventually asked, letting his hand roll to the side, fingers brushing the denim fabric at Itachi's hip.
Itachi turned his head to look at him.
"I don't know how to help, but you know I'll do whatever you need."
Itachi opened his mouth fruitlessly.
"Tell me what happened."
"…I told Sasuke."
"About what?" He looped his finer through Itachi's belt strap.
Itachi tapped his toes in his shoe. "About last summer." He ran his hands over his head. "That I'm practically a whore."
"Hey," Kisame snapped, yanking Itachi's jeans, "don't fucking say that."
Itachi shrugged. "That's what Sasuke called me."
Kisame paused for a moment. "Really?"
"Really," Itachi replied dryly, crossing his arms.
Kisame sat up, putting a hand over Itachi's. "That must be why he's so upset. You know that he didn't mean it."
"Yes, he did."
"Itachi—"
"I know that he was angry, but anger in and of itself does not cause someone to say things they don't mean; it causes people to say things they would normally have the inhibitions not to."
"Itachi, look at me. Itachi." He waited until Itachi met his gaze. "Suigetsu told me how upset Sasuke was. He didn't mean it, he was probably just trying to hurt you.
"And that's supposed to be better?"
"Yes, because he didn't believe it. You know he didn't, Itachi."
Itachi just shrugged, looking away.
Kisame's fingertips caught the ends of Itachi's hair, tapping his thumb against it a few times. "Why did you end up telling him?" He asked.
Itachi bit his lips, staring at the dust swirl through the air, illuminated by the yellow light from Kisame's headlights. "Remember what I told you when I slept over?"
"About what?" Kisame promised, curling his fingers around Itachi's wrist.
Itachi let out a little breath. "I told you how Sasuke and I had a messy relationship, that we weren't healthy."
"Right," Kisame murmured. "That's why you told him?"
"I wanted to be honest," he whispered. "I've told you that I have a problem with lying. I lie to Sasuke a lot, because I don't want him to worry, or because he doesn't need to face how bad the truth is." He ran a hand over his hair. "But I know that's not good. I know I shouldn't, so I wanted to fix it…. I thought he would be understanding, but…he was just so angry."
Kisame squeezed Itachi's wrist. "Your brother's hot tempered," he justified.
"You don't get it, this wasn't just an outburst…he was honestly angry with me." Itachi pressed his forehead to his knees. "He's never acted that way towards me."
"I'm sorry," Kisame murmured. He thought in silence for a couple of seconds. "You said you fought, right? What about?"
Itachi shrugged a little. "He still wants to get a job, I told him no."
Kisame frowned. "Itachi…."
"He has to focus on school, Kisame."
"Itachi, shit, man, I know that you're sensitive about this but—I worked two jobs through college. Do you know how many students work alongside school? Like, almost all of them. You can get jobs at desks and shit so you can work and study at the same time."
Itachi stiffened. He didn't say anything.
Kisame sighed. "I know, you never went to school, and you want Sasuke to have everything that you didn't. I get it. But Sasuke is his own person, he deserves to make his own decisions."
"I know what's best for him," Itachi insisted. "He has the rest of his life to work, he doesn't need to do that now."
Kisame tapped his hand against the hood, trying to think of an angle. He knew he could call Itachi selfish or overbearing, and that would get to him, but that would also hurt him. He could be gentle, which would spare Itachi's fragile feelings, would probably never break through his stubborn wall of brotherly ideology.
"You said you wanted a healthy relationship with him, right?" He tried, tucking the blanket around his neck.
Itachi nodded just barely, turning his head a little to meet Kisame's eyes.
"Honesty is a good start, especially if you have a habbit of keeping things from him. But that's not the only thing, ya know?" He pushed black hair behind Itachi's ear. "At my place, you were saying that you trust me. You gotta trust him, too."
"I do," Itachi answered reflexively.
"You don't. You don't trust him enough to balance two things at once, you don't even trust him to know how to make his own decisions."
Itachi looked away.
"I mean, this isn't him asking to drop out of school to make a living off of street performance. This is him saying he just wants to get a job to help out."
"Yes, but he isn't pining to answer phone calls in some stuffy office lobby because it's his passion. He's doing it because he I couldn't provide for him." Itachi's eyes turned miserable. "Because I failed him, yet again."
"You haven't failed anyone, Itachi," Kisame chastised, snorting. "Enough of that. You work harder than anyone I've ever met. You gave up a college education for him. Shit, you nearly gave up your body for him. Besides, he's an adult. He has the responsibility of taking care of himself."
Itachi shrugged listlessly. "I should be able to do more."
Kisame tapped his fingers against the car for a second. "Maybe you can."
Itachi looked at him just barely.
"Maybe Sasuke would rather have you be his brother than his walking bank account."
Itachi shrugged a little. "It doesn't much matter now, I guess."
Kisame frowned. "Itachi, that's the type of attitude—"
"Sasuke is moving out."
Kisame blinked. "…What? You're kicking him out?"
Itachi snorted. "Of course not. This was his decision. I'm…insane." Before Kisame could protest, he said, "His words, again."
Kisame sat back, looking at the sky again. "Honestly, Itachi? I can see why he would say that with the way you've been treating him."
Itachi flinched. "I know. That's why I'm not going to stop him. I'm a horrible brother, I don't deserve to have him around me."
Kisame let out a gusty sigh. "See, Itachi, that's the shit that gets you in trouble. You're all extremes. You gotta learn how to make compromises with him."
"Compromises," Itachi repeated dubiously.
"Instead of calling yourself a horrible brother and giving up, figure out how you can fix what you've done wrong."
"If Sasuke wants to move out, I'm not going to stop him."
"Okay, okay. Just—think about it, yeah? It might not be too late."
"Sure," Itachi muttered, staring at the dusty ground.
Kisame stared at him for a moment before reaching out and squeezing his wrist. "Your brother loves you, Itachi. He always will. Don't forget that, yeah?"
Itachi didn't say anything.
Kisame sighed again, softer this time, and straightened. "Are you ready to go home?"
He shrugged, but hopped off the car, folding the blanket. He laid it across the bench of Kisame's back seat.
Kisame fiddled with the heater as he drove along the dirt road. Itachi folded his legs under him and pulled his phone out. Kisame glanced over at him every now and then, but Itachi didn't look up. The light of his phone reflected on his face in the dark of the night; he looked tired. The bags under his eyes seemed darker, his tear troughs prominent. His eyes were weary and his shoulders slumped.
"Itachi," Kisame eventually murmured.
"Hm?"
"You're gonna be okay. Everything is gonna be okay, you know that, right?"
Itachi brought his eyes up and stared at him for a long time. Eventually, he looked back down at his phone. "Yeah. That's part of it, right? Of being healthy? Even if Sasuke leaves me, if you leave me, I'm still supposed to be alright on my own."
"Hey," Kisame reached out, grabbing his hand. "Sasuke sure all hell isn't going to leave you. And I'm not planning on it anytime soon either. Alright?"
Itachi's fingers twitched once before the curled properly around his. "Yeah. Okay." He looked out the window as Kisame pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex. "Can you—stay? Can you talk to him with me?"
"Nope." Kisame shook his head, squeezing Itachi's hand more tightly. "This is between you two." He brought Itachi's hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles. "You can do this, babe. I know you can."
Itachi bit his lip. "What if I mess up again? What if I make Sasuke angrier?"
"Just be honest with him. Truly try, and let him know that you are. He'll understand, I promise."
Itachi let out a breath. "Alright."
He didn't make a move to exit the truck.
Kisame chuckled. "Now's the part where you go talk to him, Itachi."
Nervousness flickered across his face. "I really don't want him to move out. But I know I have no right to ask him to stay."
"Compromise," Kisame insisted. He leaned over, kissing him on the temple. "I have full faith in you. You call me tonight, before you go to sleep, yeah?"
Itachi nodded slowly, turning into the kiss. "Thanks, for getting me, for helping me."
Kisame pressed his forehead against Itachi's hair, closing his eyes. "Anything for you, Itachi."
Itachi didn't really know how to respond to that, so he didn't, opting instead to open the heavy metal door and hop lithely out of the truck. The air was cold, and the contact immediately made him shiver. He walked slowly up the metal staircase, teeth pinching at the inside of his bottom lip, running through his head a million times what he would say. What he could possibly say to make up for years of upsetting Sasuke. He heard the truck tires crunch on the gravelly black top as it pulled away, and he paused at his door to wave Kisame goodbye. He couldn't see into the windows to know if Kisame responded, but he knew he was looking at him.
He had just inserted the key into the lock and started to turn the knob when the door was yanked open.
Itachi almost yipped as Sasuke grabbed him by the front of the shirt and crushed him against his chest.
"Don't you ever do that again!" He shouted, and at first Itachi thought that he was angry with him again. But, then, he felt the trembling of his fingers against his back, and of course the slighty-too-tight hug, and his worries dwindled.
"I'm so sorry, Sasuke," he murmured. Sorry for so many different things. His arms came up to wrap around his brother, a little more gently than Sasuke was squeezing.
"Where were you?" He demanded, pushing Itachi back to look him in the eyes.
"A few cities over, in the mountain reserves."
"What? Why were you there?"
"I just needed to think. And I did, for a while. Can we talk, now?"
Sasuke nodded, brows furrowed. "Of course." He hesitated a little. "Are you angry with me?"
Itachi shook his head as he sat down on the couch. "Not at all."
"You know I didn't mean any of it, right?" Sasuke popped the knuckles in his thumbs nervously. "I was just angry, I—"
Itachi gently placed a hand over his mouth, lips pulling down at the corners. "Can I go first? I…know that I started all of this—"
Sasuke tried to protest, but Itachi kept his hand firm.
"—so just let me say what I need to, and then you can tell me whatever you want."
Sasuke nodded eventually, tossing his head so that Itachi would remove his hand.
"I…know I've been unfair with you. I shouldn't have lied to you about—anything, especially not last summer. But the eviction notice came right when you were in dead week, and I was scared that if I dropped the news on you then it would disrupt your studies and you falter on you finals."
Sasuke glared, but didn't say anything.
"I don't want you to be involved in this because I don't want you to end up like me. Everywhere I am, no matter what I'm doing, I'm constantly thinking about—how am I going to pay for rent this month, how am going to pay for dinner, or for the next loan payment due." He ran a hand over his hair. "It's this never ending pit in the bottom of my stomach, and sometimes I can't eat, or sleep, or think about anything but how broke we are and how I'll likely be in debt for the rest of my life." He looked up. "And for you, Sasuke, for you it's worth it. But why should both of us have to be stuck in that cycle?"
Sasuke opened his mouth, but Itachi knew what he was going to say, and interrupted him before the words could form.
"No offense, Sasuke, but the wages you'd make flipping burgers or refilling water glasses isn't going to pay off your education. Sure, it would help some, but I can't convince myself that it would be worth it instead of letting you…just, be a little carefree while you can."
Sasuke stared at him for a moment. "Are you done?" He asked. His tone wasn't impolite, or impatient; just questioning.
Itachi nodded, a little hesitant to hear what Sasuke was going to say.
"First of all, I'm not going to be carefree if you're running yourself raw working, alright? Second of all, literally all of my friends except Suigestu have jobs, and that's only because he'd rather leach off of everyone else. And lastly—" Sasuke paused, then, huffing a little. He looked up into the corner of the ceiling; his foot tapped on the ground. "I know…Nii-san, I know that you want the best for me. But—what if you were me? What if you had to watch me take on everything wrong with our lives and destroy myself in the process." He waited for Itachi to say something, pushing on when he didn't. "I can't live in this house just to watch you tear yourself to pieces."
Itachi flinched a little at his words. He cleared his throat. "Right—about that—" He dug his phone out of his pocket. "I was looking through some apartments that are close to your college—"
"Nii-san," Sasuke stressed, pushing the phone down into Itachi's lap. "Listen to me."
Itachi looked up, a little confused.
"I don't want to move out. I only said I would move out if you don't take better care of yourself. So…?" He hinted.
Itachi blinked.
Sasuke nearly smiled. "You really don't know how to do this, huh? Instead of being rash, what if we just—"
"Compromised," Itachi murmured, eyes dropping back down to the phone in his lap.
"Exactly. I was thinking…I could find a job, one that wouldn't interfere with school. And as long as my grades didn't slip, I would work. I could take care of groceries and of shopping and—"
"I'll still do that." That was a soft spot. That was food. If Itachi couldn't even keep his brother alive, what could he do?
"Okay," Sasuke said slowly. "Then, I'll just give you part of what I make, yeah? And you can manage it. Does that sound fair?"
Itachi nodded, fingers twitching around his phone. "Yeah. We can do that." His back slumped a little. "Thanks for forgiving me for…acting so crazy."
Sasuke knew it was pointless to argue with Itachi's words anymore, so he let it go. "Always. On a different note, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"Why…why prostitution?"
Itachi blinked. "Because I would make a lot of money without much expenditure of time of effort on my part."
Sasuke's face screwed up a little at how blasé Itachi sounded. "How did you even…I mean, were you just going to stand on street corners in fishnets and hope the feds didn't catch you?"
Itachi rolled his eyes. "No. I found someone who would get me clients."
"And you trusted them? What if it was, shit, some sex trafficking thing? You can't just dive head first into selling your body, someone might try to kill you, or something."
"That's always a possibility," Itachi replied with a shrug. "But yes, you're correct, I did trust them, so I wasn't worried."
"Who was it?" Sasuke demanded.
"Do you remember, when we lived on the other side of town, the man next door?"
Sasuke's eyes slowly widened as the gears in his head moved. "Yahiko's a pimp?" He nearly shouted.
Itachi waved a hand. "Keep your voice down. And yes, he is. Undercover, obviously, so don't spread that around."
Sasuke's hands laid limp in his lap. "How did you, I don't know, even get a hold of him?"
Itachi sighed. "I was at the grocery store, and something I was buying was mispriced, so I was short by like five dollars at the register. He was in the line next to me and offered to cap off what I was missing."
"That's…nice."
"It was nice. I told him to follow me home so I could repay him, and he suggested something else."
"He didn't try to fuck you, did he?" Sasuke growled.
Itachi glared dully. "No, little brother. He suggested to me that, if I was running low on cash, he could offer me a job."
"Oh, hey, I see you were short a few bucks, how about you get people to shove stuff up your ass for money!" He mocked.
Itachi waited patiently.
Sasuke grit his teeth. "I'm sorry, but it's weird."
"Is there an expected way you make an offer like that to someone?"
He only grumbled.
"Anyways. He told me to meet him another time and we could talk about it."
"And you didn't think that was sketchy?"
Itachi's forehead wrinkled. "Of course I did. But we were already a month's late on rent, and we only had grace because I pleaded my case to the landlord and he felt pity for us. I was already doing honest work; if I had to dip below the radar to keep you sheltered and fed, I wasn't going to hesitate."
Sasuke only barely held back a gripe.
"I met him for lunch, where he explained the reality of the job. He told me that there was certainly a clientele for someone like me. There weren't a lot of male prostitutes with my 'look,' so he assured me I would never run out of work." Itachi folded one leg underneath himself. "I didn't accept, but he gave me his card in case I changed my mind. I threw it out as soon as I got home."
"And that was the end of it?"
"No. Two days later I got the eviction notice in the mail. So I dug through the trash, and he had me come over to his 'studio.' He took my picture and put it in a book. I got a text for my first client the next day. I ended up cancelling, however, and forced Yahiko to return to me the picture he took."
Sasuke scratched the back of his head in a jerky movement, almost fidgety as he glared at the floor. "And what if someone that…hired you was a woman?"
"Then I would have sex with a woman."
"But you're gay!"
Calmly. "I am aware."
"Fuck, Nii-san—was this really a better option than letting me take a fucking shift at Taco Bell?"
Itachi sighed, shoulders slumping. "We've already gone over this."
"Right, right. Sorry, I just—promise me that if things get that bad again, you'll tell me? You'll let me help?"
Itachi swallowed a little, nodding. His arm drew into his side, and he wouldn't meet Sasuke's eyes.
"What's wrong?" Sasuke asked hesitantly.
"Nothing."
"Liar."
Itachi's eyes flashed up at him. "Don't worry, I'm fine." He moved to get up off the couch—
But Sasuke wasn't having any of it.
"This is the type of shit I'm talking about, Itachi." He grabbed Itachi's hands, pulling him forward. "Just tell me. Stop pushing me away and just be yourself around me." He almost sounded desperate.
Itachi stared at him. "I just—I—wish that I could do it."
"Do what?"
Itachi looked a little lost. "Everything."
"That's it, that's—" Sasuke shifted on the couch, pushing one knee into the cushions so he could lean forward, towards his brother. "That's it, Itachi, that's the core of it. You know that you can't do everything, right?"
"But I have to," Itachi replied, honesty ringing in his voice. "Everything needs to be done, so I have to do it."
"You don't have to do everything alone," Sasuke tried to convince, lifting up his hands so they could fist themselves into the material of Itachi's shirt. "You don't need to do everything yourself. There's nothing wrong with asking for help."
Itachi looked off to the side. He cleared the throat a little. "You know I'm not good at that."
"Yeah, no shit." Sasuke reached out, tugging on the end of Itachi's ponytail where it flopped over his shoulder. "Will you try, though?"
"Believe it or not, I already am."
Sasuke laughed. "Then try harder."
Itachi managed an easy smile, exhaustion pushing him forward and into Sasuke's shoulder. "I will." His eyes slipped closed when he felt Sasuke's arms wind around him. "You know how much I love you, right?" He whispered. "More than everything else in the world combined."
"Yeah, I know." Sasuke pressed a cheek to the top of his head. "I don't think that's a good thing, always."
"It's not," Itachi assented. "But it's too late, now. And I wouldn't change it if I could."
Sasuke snorted. After a beat, "I love you, too, Nii-san." He shifted a little, so that they were more horizontal, so that Itachi's back wouldn't have to curve.
Itachi was content to stay like that, fitted against his brother's side as if they were kids again. He felt like a kid again, wished in his heart of hearts that, just for a few moments, he could be a kid again, when life wasn't so tolling. His mind was drowsy, emotional and physical exhaustion catching up with him and draining his already limited energy. When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear his mother's humming as she prepared sleep remedy tea in the kitchen, could almost hear the splash of water against the stainless steel sink as she finished the dishes; if he tried hard enough, he could taste the remnants of their dinner—fish and rice, with cabbage and pickled radishes. He could almost feel the soft fur of their childhood dog pressed against his leg where it used to nap on the couch. At this time, his father would probably be reclined on a chair reading a historical book—in kanji, of course. Itachi should be doing his homework, since he already put it off to play with Sasuke before dinner, but the lessons weren't that difficult, and he could cram it done in the morning.
He fell asleep remembering the comforting feeling of his father carrying his sleeping body to his room and tucking him into bed.
Itachi woke just passed five in the morning. It was a jolted awakening, the type where one flies up, eyes open and heart pumping blood quickly enough to heighten all senses to almost perfect awareness. He was only startled by the subconscious sensation of being in a foreign place.
Itachi blinked around the bright sitting room for a moment, scrounging up his bearings. Sasuke was sprawled out on the couch, shirt mussed where Itachi's head had been resting. His head was tucked a little awkwardly against the crease of the cushions and the armrest. Itachi shifted into a sitting position, feeling the red marks imprinted on the skin about his hips where his jeans dug in all night. He stood quietly, pulling the blanket off of the back of the couch and silently, carefully placing it over Sasuke's legs and waist. He quietly flicked off the lights as he made his way towards the hall, so that hopefully Sasuke could continue sleeping.
Itachi pulled his phone out to check the time as he opened the door of his room. He closed it behind him with a soft thud of the wood and click of the handle.
Hey, did everything go alright? You guys good?
Itachi frowned at the text, remembering that he had promised to call Kisame after he talked things through with Sasuke.
Babe?
It was still too early, Itachi thought, so instead of calling, he sent a text that said, I fell asleep last night before I had the chance to call you. Everything is fine. Call me when you have a chance and I can tell you.
It was only half an hour later, when Itachi was towel drying his freshly washed hair in the bedroom that his phone started buzzing.
"Hello," he picked up, voice especially quiet in the stillness of his room.
"Itachi, hey. Everything's good?"
"Yeah." Itachi moved to sit on the edge of his bed, setting the damp towel down next to him. "I talked with Sasuke, and we came to a…compromise." He couldn't stop the quirk of his lips as he said the word.
Kisame chuckled. "Is that so?"
Itachi tucked a slowly dripping lock of hair behind his ear. "Thank you, Kisame. I really…needed what you did for me last night."
"Anything you need, Itachi," Kisame replied. His voice was so assured, so almost—casual about it, as he pledged his loyalties.
His door opened, then. Sasuke's head poked into the room, sleep mussed hair sticking to his face and spiking out in a couple directions. One side of his face was crinkled up in a grimace, his other eye cracked half open. "Nii-san?"
"Good morning, Sasuke," Itach I replied warmly, tilting the phone's speaker away from his mouth. "Did I wake you?"
Sasuke shook his head, wrinkling his nose a couple times as he woke fully. "Who are you talking to?"
"Kisame."
"Oh." Sasuke paused. "Okay well—I'll let you finish." He ducked back out of the room.
Itachi smiled. "Sasuke says thank you."
"Does he now?"
"Yeah." Itachi flopped down against the mattress. "He may not say it verbatim, but I know he means it in his heart of hearts."
Kisame chuckled. "I'll just have to take your word for it."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Itachi staring at his ceiling, Kisame wishing that he could be staring at Itachi. They didn't need to speak, there wasn't anything to say, but neither of them wanted to hang up.
"What are you doing later this week?" Kisame murmured.
"Why?" This had become Itachi's natural response. Of course he knew why; regardless, he never got tired of hearing Kisame say it.
"Because I want to spend time with you." Kisame sounded amused. He was such a good sport.
"Well, unfortunately for both of us, I'm pretty busy all week. We can meet for lunch the day after next?"
"I'll take it," Kisame answered, a grin apparent in his voice.
"Alright. Well, I should get going."
Kisame sighed. "I'll talk to you tonight."
Itachi nodded to himself. "Bye."
He stayed on his bed for a few minutes, just to think. To think about how much Kisame did for him—he wanted to have some way to repay him. He knew, of course, that Kisame didn't expect anything out of it. But that's what made it so special to Itachi.
Kisame's so good for me.
More and more the thought would slip into his head and—it was so true.
He hoped that he was good for Kisame, too.
"Oh, so now you answer my calls?" Sasuke snorted, eyes critically scanning his essay.
"You damn well know I don't answer my phone before ten when I don't have morning classes." Naruto yawned. "How'd everything turn out last night? Is Itachi okay?"
Sasuke glared down at the desk. "Yeah. I think everything's gonna be fine."
"Still can't believe you guys fought so hard." Sasuke heard rustling on the other end of the line. "It's not like Itachi to get in an argument."
Sasuke bounced a pen on the desk. "We had it a long time coming." He let his head tilt back, looking at the ceiling. "The good news is I'm on the hunt for a job. Does Ino still know if The Atlas has an opening?"
"Oh, yeah, let me text her!" Naruto said brightly. "Last I heard they had gotten some applicants, but I'm sure that she can pull some strings."
Sasuke grunted. "See that she does."
"Well, if you're gonna be a dick about it," Naruto grumbled. "Oh, I forgot to tell you! I ran into Kisame yesterday. He's doing well."
"Is he?" Sasuke replied absently, editing the diction of a paragraph to improve the flow.
"Yeah." Naruto sounded satisfied. "He seems happier than he used to be. Not that he ever seemed unhappy. You can just tell, ya know? And he seems happy."
"I wonder why," Sasuke murmured, eyes unfocusing on his laptop screen for a moment before snapping back in focus.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Itachi." Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Idiot."
"Bastard! Excuse me for not knowing the innermost details of their relationship. It's not like you tell me!"
"It's not like Itachi tells me, either."
Naruto hummed. "Yeah? Then how do you know that's why he's so happy, huh?"
"Because, it's Itachi. Who wouldn't be happy dating Itachi? Kisame's probably just excited because he managed to convince someone so far out of his league to date him."
Naruto laughed a little. "The way you talk about Itachi, man. You're not gonna leave me for him, are you?"
"I might," Sasuke sniffed.
Naruto laughed even more loudly. "I am surprised, though. I thought you were going to chase Kisame off weeks ago. How long have they been dating, now?"
"Over four months." Sasuke leaned back in his chair, crossing his free arm over his stomach. "You know that I trust Kisame, if only because Suigetsu put in a good word. And…Itachi's happy. Itachi's happy. Glowing, almost. It's intolerable."
"What?! Intolerable? You should be happy! Your brother's happy!"
"'In-love' Itachi acts recklessly and stupidly," Sasuke justified. "But I am," he added, a little more quietly. "I am."
"Ooh," Naruto sing-songed. "So you approve of Itachi's boyfriend. I never thought I'd see the day," he sighed dramatically.
Sasuke glowered. "I do not approve."
"You absolutely do, you prickly bitch. You won't admit it because you won't know what to do with yourself when you can't complain about Itachi being at the disposal of the world anymore."
Sasuke growled. "Kisame's gotta have to be a fucking magician to keep Itachi from fucking himself over. That's a fulltime job."
"Yeah, but—for Itachi to let you get a job? For him to work with you and compromise with you? C'mon, Sas, you know that's big for him. You think he did that all on his own?"
"Itachi's been trying to work on himself for a while," Sasuke defended.
"I know. But you think that Kisame hasn't helped?" Naruto whistled. "It's hard to remedy parts of yourself without help. I mean, just look at you! If it wasn't for me, you still wouldn't touch cup ramen!"
"That was never a part of myself I wanted to fix, moron."
Naruto groaned. "I know! Imagine if you had never found me!"
Sasuke's lips twitched despite himself. "You're obnoxious."
"You adore me," Naruto countered, clearly smiling.
After a long pause, "yeah."
"Wah, what was that?" Naruto cried dramatically. "Say it again, Sasuke!"
Sasuke smirked. "No."
"You adore me!" Naruto cooed, teasing.
"I'm hanging up, now."
"Jeez, fine. You're so cold," he sniffed.
"I really do need to go; this essay is due by Sunday."
"Ah, yeah! How's that going?"
Sasuke grumbled a little darkly. "Well." It had to go well. He was going to win that damn scholarship money, and then use their normal savings to send Itachi on a vacation. He was going to pay his brother back for all the sacrifices he made. And then he was going to graduate, get a decent job, and be the one to put Itachi through university. Because he deserved it. Because Itachi deserved that, and the whole world, and a little extra after that. You couldn't convince Sasuke otherwise.
"Do you think you're gonna win?"
"I don't want to jinx it." Sasuke stared dully at the keyboard. "We need it so bad, though, Naruto. I'm sure everyone else entering this competition does, too, but—Naruto, we need it so bad."
"I know," Naruto murmured quietly. Brightly, he suggested, "Before you submit it, send it to Shikamaru, I'll force him to read over it for you. And Hinata's an English major, I can give it to her, too!"
Sasuke grunted his approval. "The good news is, I'm sure I have tragedy on my side. Unless the other applicants are talking about their parents being murdered and their brother going to prison, too."
Naruto laughed, just barely. "I'm sure you're the only one."
Sasuke let out a gusty sigh. "Okay, I really have to focus. I'll talk to you later."
"Alright. Don't adore me too much while you're working. I wouldn't want to distract you."
Sasuke chuckled. "Shut up." He hung up and tossed his phone on to the other side of the desk, pulling his laptop closer to the edge.
He was revising the second page when he thought that, maybe, if Kisame would pay his own way, of course, Sasuke would send him on the vacation with Itachi, too.
Itachi rolled over in bed, squinting his eyes into the darkness.
He heard buzzing. Loud, disruptive buzzing.
Please, please don't let that be his alarm clock. Don't let it be time to wake up. He was still so tired.
A blurry, sleep glazed glance at the clock showed that it was still quite early—far too early to be waking up. And he sank back into bed, but—his nightstand was still buzzing.
He sloppily grabbed the phone off of the table, eyes stabbed by the bright light emitted from the screen. He propped himself up on his elbows, the comforter slipping off of his shoulders.
"Hello?" He answered, voice groggy.
"Hey." The voice on the other line was heavy.
"Kisame," Itachi murmured, his instant reaction to be happiness at the sound of his boyfriend's voice, no matter what the hour was. "Why are you calling me so early?"
"Sorry. Sorry, I just—"
"Are you alright?" Itachi interrupted, trying to squeeze the sleep out of his eyes. "You don't sound well."
Kisame let out a little breath. "Fuck, I know your sleeping. I just—can't. I…I wanted to hear you voice so bad right now."
Itachi felt his lips tip a little, his arms giving as he collapsed back into the soft pillow. "Mm," he hummed. "Well, I'm here now. This is my voice. I am Itachi, hear me roar." He snorted to himself.
Kisame made a little noise on the other end, a breathy sound. It might have been a laugh, but Itachi wasn't sure.
"Kisa," he said, words mashing against his lips. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing. Nothing, I just can't sleep."
"Then cm'over 'ere." He shifted deeper into the comforter. "Come sleep with me. It's all warm and soft. I bet I could make you sleep."
"I don't doubt it," he whispered.
Itachi slowly opened his eyes again, staring into the dark room. "You really don't sound well."
Kisame didn't say anything.
"What can I do?"
"…do you want to go get breakfast?"
"Right now? Who serves breakfast at…3:42 in the morning?"
"Ihop is open."
Itachi blinked a few times. After a short moment of thinking, he said, "Sure. Why not."
"Okay, great—you're sure, though? I Know you have work and—"
"Shh," Itachi shushed. "I'm sure. It sounds fun." In complete honesty, what sounded the most fun was staying in his warm, cozy bed and sleeping for many more hours. But there really was something up with Kisame's voice, and Itachi was worried. "You'll have to give me a ride, though," he added as an afterthought.
"Yeah, yeah, of course. I'll come get you, in, like, a few minutes, okay?"
Itachi nodded, and then realized that Kisame wouldn't be able to see it. "Okay. Drive carefully. There's a lot of unpredictable drivers. Drunk drivers. You better get here in one piece."
"I'll be careful, I promise. Give me just a couple minutes and I'll be there."
"I'll be waiting," Itachi hummed. He lazed in bed for a couple more minutes. Sleep started to tug on his eyelids, though, and he knew he had to get out of bed soon before he was sucked back under entirely. He pushed his legs over the sides, flexing his toes—his feet always ached when he woke up, he wasn't sure why. He immediately shivered in the silent room, cold air wrapping around him.
He managed to get into an upright position, immediately heading to his drawer to change. He traded his sweats for a pair of comfortable jeans. He was already wearing Kisame's hoodie—well, one of them, he was building a collection—and he decide to keep it on.
It even had the off chance of cheering Kisame up.
Itachi quietly left his room, moving silently down the hall to the kitchen. He didn't know what time he would be back, so he peeled a sticky note off the pink stack by the answering machine, uncapping a pen with his teeth.
Sasuke
I stepped out early this morning to help Kisame with something. I can explain to you when I get back. If I'm not home by the time you wake up, you can reach me on my cellphone.
Love you.
Itachi
He stuck it to the fridge, where its bright color would contrast against the white door.
He slipped his feet into his shoes, if for no reason than because his feet were getting cold against the hardwood floor. He sat cross legged on the couch, blanked wrapped around his shoulders because he was still so sleepy. His phone and his keys were in the front pocket of the hoodie, and he fiddled with them as he waited.
It wasn't too much longer before he got a text.
I'm like halfway up the stairs. I don't know which room is yours.
Itachi hopped up immediately and headed to the door. The cold that greeted him when he opened it was less than pleasant; he locked the door quickly and headed down the stairs to meet Kisame.
Kisame was standing on a random step, looking unsure.
Itachi thought that, despite his notable height and muscle mass, he seemed…small.
It made him frown.
"Good morning," he said quietly as he approached him. He leaned up on his toes for a kiss which Kisame didn't really reciprocate.
That deepened his frown.
He was just about to say something when Kisame caught him up in his big arms, pulling him against his chest. It was a little startling, both in suddenness and intensity. Itachi felt Kisame's face press itself into his hair, shaky breaths reaching his scalp. His hands squeezed fistfuls of Kisame's sweatshirt.
"Kisame?" He asked quietly.
Kisame released him, then, just as abruptly before, and it left Itachi blinking at him in confusion. He looked at him for a few moments. "Nice outfit," he said, voice gruff, as he looked at the hoodie.
Itachi knew it was supposed to be a joke, but his voice held no humor, and his lips didn't smile.
Where was that grin? The grin that was so hard to get out of his thoughts, his dreams?
Itachi didn't know what had put a damper on it, but he knew already that he didn't much like it.
"Thanks," he responded lightly, trying to joke himself. "I saw this really attractive guy wearing it, and I thought I could try to pull it off, too."
Kisame didn't react at all, though. Where normally he would grin, where normally his eyes would light up and crinkle along the edges, his brows were set down, and his mouth was a hard line.
Itachi didn't know what to say after that.
"Well, no point standing out here talking. Ready to go?"
"Yeah," he replied simply, looking up under his lashes a few times. Kisame was acting odd, incredibly odd. He was worried.
The car ride was silent. The roads were empty, almost, a car appearing only every street or so until they hit the freeway. All the shops were dark, no one was walking along the sidewalks. Even the traffic lights seemed to change quietly. Itachi could hear every noise in the car—the clunk of Kisame pressing against the gas pedal, the seemingly loud clicking of the blinker. The gentle whir of the heater practically filled his head.
Kisame was usually the one to prompt the conversation. He figured out what to say when Itachi's rickety social skills failed him. He could string together thoughts when Itachi didn't know how to contribute, and bridge topics when he was content to only listen and hum.
So when this happened, when Itachi could feel that something was wrong, and Kisame wasn't offering it up he—he didn't know what to do. This wasn't a skill among his diversified collection.
But Kisame needed something. Kisame's hands kept tightening and fidgeting on the leather steering wheel, making a soft noise sometimes that snapped Itachi's eyes over. Itachi knew that Kisame needed him to be there for him, and he was suddenly overwhelmed because—he didn't know how. He wasn't good at this.
But dammit if he wasn't going to try.
"One of my students is studying ancient Greek tragedies," Itachi blurted into the dark car as they sped down the freeway. "Have you ever read Sophocles?"
Kisame shook his head, eyes trained on the road in front of him.
"Oh. Well. He was a big deal back in his time. He wrote over 240 plays, but only 7 of them were ever discovered. Anyways, his most famous, and kind of the pillar of all great Greek tragedies, was a long, complicated trilogy about a man named Oedipus. Have you heard of it?"
Kisame shook his head again.
Itachi cleared his throat a little. "Oedipus Rex, which means Oedipus the King, is actually my favorite Greek play. It starts in the ancient city of Thebes, which is currently being cursed with disease. The people gather at their king's feet and beg him to somehow free them of the plague by appeasing Apollo. Oedipus loves his people, so he agrees. Their old king, Laius, was murdered while he was traveling to another city, and the murderer is currently living in Thebes. Apollo is cursing the city, and won't forgive them until they cast out the culprit. So, Oedipus calls forward Tiresias, an oracle, and asks him to reveal the murderer's identity. Tiresias refuses to tell him and instead tries to convince him to stop searching, or else he'll end up in pain. Oedipus demands to know who is the cause of the plague once more, and Tiresias confesses that it is Oedipus himself. He's angrily dismissed." Itachi looked over from the corner of his eye; Kisame hadn't changed much, but his hands were more relaxed, and he seemed to be listening.
"Later, a servant comes with the news that Oedipus' father, Polybus, has died. Opedipus is relieved, however, instead of sad. The servant asks why, and it is revealed that a prophecy was given to Oedipus when he was born that someday he would murder his father and marry his mother. Now that his father has died, Oedipus is convinced he evaded the prophecy. Then the servant tells him that he was adopted, and Polybus isn't his true father. He was, instead, found as a baby on mount Cithaeron, and he was given to the King and Queen of Corinth."
Kisame gave him a look as he exited the freeway, merging onto an empty street.
"Oedipus reports this to his wife, who was married to Laius as queen before Oedipus took over the city, and she becomes overwhelmed and begs him to stop seeking the truth. Oedipus is determined, though, and disregards her. As he looks into the murder or Laius, he recalls that he killed a man in the same area on his way to Thebes. Now he's worried, because things are starting to add up. Then Jocasta tells him that she too received a bad prophecy for her newborn and had a servant kill him. Oedipus summons the servant, who confesses that he couldn't kill the baby, so he left it in the mountains, where a shepherd rescued it. Then, they call in the servant who was with Laius when he died."
"Why didn't they do that first?" Kisame grunted.
Itachi smiled a little. "Because, then where would the drama come from? Anyways, the guy recognizes Oedipus as the murderer, and it turns out that he did indeed fulfill the prophecy. Jocasta realizes that she had children with her own son and hangs herself in her room. Oedipus finds her and is horribly upset. So that he won't have to look at his parents in the underworld, he pulls the golden pins out of her dress and turns his eyes into cottage cheese."
Kisame raised an eyebrow as he pulled into a space in the IHOP parking lot.
"Then he's exiled."
Kisame he chuckled a little, shaking his head as he cranked the emergency brake back. "Should I be worried that this is your favorite play?"
"Not favorite play," Itachi corrected, all but beaming at Kisame's smile, "favorite Greek Tragedy."
Kisame looked over at him, softening visibly. His eyes filled in a little, looked a little less hollow, and he reached a hand out to brush Itachi's cheek. "Of course, how could I make such a mistake. Geez, I'm dating the biggest dork I've ever met."
Itachi let his head rest against Kisame's palm. "Correct. I hope you know, I don't take that as an insult."
"And I didn't mean it as one."
There weren't a whole lot of people in the restaurant, for obvious reasons. He supposed it was fortunate, since Kisame wasn't in the most social mood, and Itachi wanted to be able to have alone time to try to pry him open.
There were two teenagers sitting off to the side. One had been crying, eyes puffy, freckled cheeks streaked with the barest hints of mascara. Her hair was up in a bun, messy and straggling from sleep. The girl in front of her hand one hand stretched to grip onto her arm, speaking fierce assurances. On the flip side, there was a group of four teenage boys huddled around a secluded table by the window. Their eyes were tinged red for a completely different reason.
They were stoned out of their minds, that is.
At another table there was an exhausted woman in hospital scrubs, a scruffy looking man nursing a single coffee at the bar.
Itachi wondered how the two of them added to the picture as he tentatively reached out to grab on to Kisame's thick forearm.
The young man who greeted them didn't say a word, looking up from behind the cash register. He grabbed two menus off the counter and led them into the restaurant. He put them at a booth at the empty side of the room—Itachi guessed that he worked the night shift enough to know that any costumer who showed up just shy of four in the morning wasn't there to make friends.
"What do you want to eat?" Itachi asked, scooting over on the booth.
"Uh." Kisame blinked down at the laminated picture of a pancake. "I don't know. Whatever you want."
"You were the one that called me out here."
The muscles bound across Kisame's arms tensed, and he suddenly wouldn't meet Itachi's eyes. "Right. You can leave, if you need."
"No, no that's not—" Itachi pressed his lips together, looking down at the table. Okay, okay. He could do this. He opened the menu, looking over it silently until the waiter reappeared.
"What can I get you?" He asked tiredly, not even bothering to pull the pen and pad out of his apron. He truly looked miserable.
Itachi sympathized.
"We'll take a stack of buttermilk pancakes, six strips of bacon, a plate of hash-browns, and two eggs."
"Anything else?"
Itachi shook his head. "Some water would be nice."
As the waiter disappeared into the kitchen, Kisame asked, "Are you planning on eating all of that?"
"Of course not. You'll be eating most of it."
"Is that so?" Kisame's voice was a little dry.
Itachi rested his chin on his palm. "Tell me, did you eat dinner last night? What about lunch?"
Kisame stared at him expressionlessly.
"I'd bet my next paycheck you haven't eaten in over twenty four hours. That's not good for you, Kisame."
He gave, shoulders slumping, a sigh leaving his lips. "I know. I haven't been hungry."
Itachi stared at him, trying to will Kisame too look up, but his eyes stayed locked on the dull white table.
Itachi cleared his throat, flashing the waiter a small smile as he slid two plastic cups of water in front of them. "So, would you like to hear about Antigone or Hamlet next?" He asked.
Kisame snorted a little, one corner of his lip twitching. "Hamlet, now that sounds familiar. I think I read it in high school."
"Oh?" Itachi inquired playfully, leaning forward. "Think you can keep up with me?"
Kisame's smile widened into what could almost pass as the beginnings to a grin. "Not a chance. I didn't major in Greek literature, like you did, evidently."
"Clearly not; Hamlet is Shakespeare."
"Ah, shit. I should have known. Did I offend you?"
"Only horribly." Itachi spun his water cup.
Kisame cracked another smile, but his eyes were unfocused on the table. He tapped his finger a couple of times, and then in a voice that was part coarse and part shaky, said, "Thank you."
Itachi's face was open and honest. "For what?"
Kisame still wouldn't meet his eyes. "For…everything. For coming out here in the middle of the night. For trying to distract me. For keeping me company. For going to that damn bar so that I could meet you—" He broke off, running a rough hand over his hair and then dragging it down his face.
"Kisame," Itachi murmured, pushing a hand across the table.
"You—Itachi, you—" he tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling. He didn't know what to say, wasn't used to spilling his guts all out in the open. "Every night, when I fall asleep, I'm thinking of you. And when I wake up, my first thought is that I want to talk to you."
Itachi didn't know what to say, staring at him with wide eyes.
"You're important to me," Kisame all but blurted. "I want you in my life right now."
Itachi's eyebrows drew in. "You're important to me too, Kisame." He pushed his hand forward just a little, but Kisame didn't meet it.
The waiter had spectacular timing, appearing at the edge of their table and setting the white plates down in front of them. The pad of butter melted softly over the fluffy pancakes and the bacon glistened with leftover grease.
"Is that all?"
"Yes, thank you," Itachi replied, eyes not leaving Kisame's face. He stared at him for a few more seconds before pulling his hand back. After pressing his lips together in thought, he grabbed a strip of bacon, warm to the touch, and held it out towards Kisame. "Open," he commanded.
Kisame raised his eyebrows.
"Open."
With a little quirk of his lip, Kisame leaned forward to take a bite.
Itachi wrinkled his nose and laughed when Kisame licked the grease off of his thumb. He used his fork and knife to cut a piece off of the pancake stack, drizzling some old fashioned syrup onto it. When he looked up to offer it to Kisame, however, he was greeted with heavy eyes.
"Two mornings ago," Kisame started, "my aunt backed out of her driveway to go to work. And she didn't know it, but her two year old daughter was behind her in the drive way and—" He didn't finish, tapping his finger against the condensation sticking to his cup.
"Oh," Itachi said, quietly. "Kisame—"
"And then, last night, she swallowed, like, two bottles of pills. Couldn't live with herself if she killed her own kid, I guess. She's in critical condition in the hospital. She didn't die, but her organs started failing. If she makes it through tonight the doctors said she would be okay. But they don't know if she will."
Itachi sat against the back of the seat, a little shocked. He didn't know what to say, there wasn't anything you could say, really.
"I know that everyone thinks that their little cousin is the cutest but—god, Talia was such a sweet little thing. I'd get sent pictures and video of her, and I'd Skype her on holidays and—I kept telling myself, swearing to myself that I'd get home and see her. I have—I have gifts for her in my home, that I was going to give to her. For two years I put it off, and now…that's it, I mean, she's dead. And my aunt might be dead." He sighed. "My family's freaking out. Obviously, I guess." His eyes darted up to meet Itachi's. "My aunt almost killed herself. My uncle almost lost his baby and his wife in less than forty eight hours. How…how does anyone recover from that?" He shook his head, leaning back against the seat. "How did you do it, when you lost your parents? Or your cousin? Fuck, how did you survive that?"
Itachi's eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. "It's different for everyone, of course. I just clung to what I still had, which was Sasuke." Itachi didn't want to delve into the gory details that were his parents' murders, because he didn't want to make this about him. "When my parents passed away, I just thought about what I could do to make them proud. Father would always tell me to take care of Sasuke when he and my mom left on business trips or vacations, so I threw myself into that tenfold." He let out a little sigh, pulling one leg up to fold on the bench next to him. "Shisui and I wrote each other a lot. I sent him a letter, once, and just…never got a response. It was a couple of weeks where I just assumed he was busy, until I decided to drop some extra change to call him. He didn't pick up for days and…." Itachi cleared his throat. "I stalked a relative's Facebook and found a picture of a funeral. I didn't know what to do, so I just…kept writing him letters. I never sent them; they're sitting in a shoebox in my closet. I still think about him, a lot—about the jokes I know he would make, about his disposition on life. He gave me so much encouragement, so much…." He glanced up at Kisame. "I regret not seeing him, too. Neither of us could afford such long distance plane tickets at the time, but now, thinking about it, I wish I had."
Kisame lifted his hand up, finally, sliding it against the table. Itachi's fingers met his halfway, pushing in between.
"It sucks," Kisame said, gravel in his voice. His head knocked back against the top of the booth.
"Yeah," Itachi replied quietly. "That sums it up."
"I don't know what to do," Kisame continued, brows scrunching together.
"You don't need to right away. Just take things a step at a time and you'll start to learn how to cope." There was a soft moment of silence as Kisame stared at the ceiling. "It's good to stay close to people, though. The rest of your family, and Mangetsu and Suigetsu. And…I'm here, too, if you need me."
Kisame's fingers twitched in between his.
"Is there something else?" Itachi asked softly.
"I might go home. To Upolu."
"Oh." Itachi's eyebrows raised up a bit in surprise. "I see. For how long?"
"Shit, I don't know. I don't know anything. I might not. I just—don't know."
"That's okay." He squeezed his fingers. "Do whatever is best for you and your family."
"Okay. Yeah, yeah." Itachi could hear his leg tapping against the floor. "I don't know if I'm going to go for a little while, or a long time."
"Okay," Itachi said slowly, trying not to show his confusion.
"But, if I leave for a long time, I don't know what you'll think of that."
Itachi tilted his head in surprise. "What I would think of that?"
"Yeah. I know what long-distance relationships usually aren't the smoothest, and I don't want to—"
"Kisame," Itachi interrupted. "You're worried that I'll break up with you?"
Kisame just shrugged.
"Kisame, I'm not—of course I wouldn't do that. Kisame," he leaned forwards a little bit. "You shouldn't be worrying about something like that, not during such a time as this."
"What if I'm gone for—a year? Then what?"
Itachi's gaze didn't falter. "Then I would miss you a lot. If it comes to a situation that drastic, we would just deal with it then." He grabbed the fork off the plate, sliver of pancake still stuck at the end. "Now—eat," he demanded, holding the fork out for him. "I'm not letting all this food go to waist."
Kisame stared at him for a few seconds before he seemed to relax all the way, accepting the pancake.
They ate in silence for ten or so minutes. Itachi kept scooting food towards Kisame, trying to get him to eat more. Kisame was in a visibly brighter mood by the time Itachi convinced him to take the last strip of bacon. He was smiling again, laughing at Itachi's lame excuses for jokes. He looked exhausted, though, which made sense if he hadn't slept since the night before.
Kisame insisted on paying the bill; Itachi stubbornly slapped down a few bills for the tip money. Kisame took his hand as they exited the building, squeezing tightly. It was just passed 4:30; the sky was still dark, though the barest hints of dawn seemed to loom on the horizon, a faint, ghost like glow that was almost imperceptible.
"Hold on," Itachi said, an idea popping into his mind as Kisame unlocked his truck. He opened the backseat, retrieving the blanket. He moved around to the back, jumping up into the bed of the truck and spreading the blanket out. He sat down on one edge and patted the spot next to him.
Kisame raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow."
"Come sit; it's a beautiful night, and while we're up we might as well watch the stars."
Kisame conceded easily enough. He settled down next to Itachi, who nudged himself under Kisame's arm, pillowing his head against his broad chest. Kisame blinked up at the stars as they lay there, relishing in the feeling of Itachi's fingers tapping against his chest.
"You tap your fingers a lot," he commented. "In patterns, in rhythms."
A ghost of a smile crossed Itachi's lips. "I attended piano lessons for many years when I was a child," he explained. "I still remember a lot of the more basic ones." He pressed a new sequence against Kisame' shirt. "Sonatina."
Kisame tilted his head. "You're like a treasure chest," he grunted. "Everyday there's something else I discover about you that's amazing."
"Basic piano skills from years ago are hardly amazing."
Kisame shook his head.
"Okay, well—you're like." He thought for a moment. "You're like a good book."
Kisame raised an eyebrow, looking over at his partner. "A book? How boring."
"Watch your mouth, or I'll make you clean it out with soap," Itachi teased. He brought one hand up to trace the gill-like tattoos on Kisame's cheeks. "You're like a book because, though you may come across one way, you aren't so blatant. Even if you pretend to wear your heart on your sleeve, you don't, really. There's a hundred different ways to analyze you, each more interesting than the last."
Kisame blinked. "Oh."
Itachi seemed pleased with himself.
"I guess it was a bad idea to start psychoanalyzing with you, huh?"
"I'm hardly doing such thing."
Kisame rolled over on his side so he could look at Itachi's face. "Will you tell me one?" he asked, his voice quiet in the dark night.
"One what?"
"One of the hundred ways to analyze me."
Itachi hummed. "You wear false confidence."
"What?"
"You like to act confident and sure of yourself. You aren't unconfident, and you certainly aren't self-conscious, but you like people to think that you're a lot more self-assured than you really are."
There was silence for a bit.
"How did you know that?" Kisame whispered, eyes unreadable.
"If you were as confident as you say you are, you wouldn't have been nervous tonight. You were scared that I would break up with you if you left of Upolu; someone with a lot of confidence would be sure of my answer already."
Kisame reached forward, sliding his hand against Itachi's cheek, and then wrapping it around the back of his head. His long fingers buried in Itachi's silky black hair as he tilted his head to kiss him.
"So, am I correct?" Itachi asked when Kisame pulled away.
Kisame didn't answer right away. "I learned how to act confident a while ago. Kids in my high school class were fuckers—made fun of my height, my tattoos, my mixed blood. Girls called me ugly—"
Itachi's eyebrows climbed his forehead when he heard that because—come on, that was just ridiculous.
"—and at one point, some jack off started the nickname Quasimodo."
Itachi frowned. "It sounds like you had terrible classmates."
Kisame shrugged. "Could be worse. I figured out though, that when you act confident? People start thinking that you are. It doesn't make sense, I don't think, but it worked." He chuckled. "Act like you're proud of how you look? People agree with you all the sudden." He studied Itachi's face with a sly little grin. "Act like you're hot stuff? The cute guy at the bar might just come home with you."
"That's not exactly how it happened." Itachi rolled his eyes.
Kisame winked.
Itachi sat up a little, pushing Kisame on his back so he could lay part way across his chest, hands settling on his shoulders. He kissed him again.
"What about you?" Kisame asked, one hand fitting itself against the curve of Itachi's waist.
"What about me?"
"Did people make fun of you in high school?"
"I was homeschooled," Itachi answered immediately. Kisame was about to respond, but then Itachi's face screwed up a little, eyes closing. "No, I wasn't. That was a lie." He looked a little sheepish as he met Kisame's eyes. "Sorry, that's just the excuse that I tell everyone."
Kisame's face was neutral. "It's alright. It must have been really bad for you, then, huh?"
"Kind of, if you want to look at it like that. It's just—complicated, and I don't really want to get into it right now."
Kisame waved a hand. "That's fine, that's fine."
Itachi settled his head back down on his chest. "Are you feeling better?"
Kisame squeezed him. "Yeah, I am. Thanks."
"I know that I'm not the most stable person, but you know that I'm here for you, right?" Itachi's hand curled against Kisame's shirt. "You do so much for me; I want to help you, too, okay?"
Kisame nodded. "You do, Itachi. Even if you don't see it, I promise you do."
Itachi sighed contentedly. Kisame's hand began rubbing Itachi's back steadily, relaxing the muscles there with each gentle push. There was a little bit of white noise from the freeway down a couple street, more people entering the roads as it got closer to early morning commute times.
"Can I tell you something, Itachi?"
"Of course."
Kisame stilled his hand. "I don't have a lot of close friends. I have coworkers, and casual friends, but—I don't know, I don't see the point in getting close to someone if it isn't going to work out in the long run. Most friendships die, so why put in all the effort when it just ends up being pointless?"
Itachi stared at the blanket peeking out from underneath Kisame's back.
"You know what's funny, though?" His voice was uncharacteristically soft. "I've never thought about it that way with you. Not with you. I have no idea what's going to become of this, but…it doesn't bother me. I still want to be with you every second of the fucking day."
Itachi buried his face into Kisame's chest.
"Maybe that's how it's supposed to be. Maybe it's just about the time you can enjoy with someone, regardless of how long."
"I think so," Itachi agreed quietly.
"Hm." Kisame wrapped his other arm around Itachi's waste.
Itachi was content to lay there for a while longer. He was conflicted, in his heart. Part of it ached for Kisame's loss, but at the same time, he felt all warm inside. They were even closer, and he's finally done something for Kisame. They felt more even.
"You're going to fall asleep," Kisame grunted.
"Hmm?"
He chuckled. "Alright. Get up, let me get you home."
"It's fine here," he said with a little yawn, fingers trying to grip Kisame's arm. Let's just stay here."
"In the back of my truck at the crack of dawn?"
Itachi shrugged sleepily.
Kisame shifted a little, and then scooped Itachi—who made only the barest noise of surprise—up in his arms. He hopped out of the bed with ease, walking to the passenger door.
"I can walk, you know," Itachi said curtly, glaring from under his lashes.
Kisame laughed, setting him down. "Are you sure? You're acting awfully tired."
"Why aren't you?" Itachi asked as he opened the door. "You've certainly been awake longer than me, and more emotionally taxed."
Kisame shrugged, climbing into the truck and closing the door roughly behind him. "I don't know. I guess I've hit that point where I'm so tired, I don't really feel it anymore. You know what I mean?"
"Too well."
As soon as he got out of the parking lot and onto the main street, Kisame reached his hand out for Itachi to hold. Itachi gladly accepted, leaning his head against Kisame's knuckles. He nearly fell asleep on the ride back to his apartment. He departed with a sleep kiss to Kisame's cheek, murmured assurances exchanged to talk soon. Kisame promised to call as soon as he made up his mind about going home.
It was five, the light growing in the sky when Itachi pushed his door open. Sasuke was awake, which surprised him, sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal.
"Hey," Itachi started, toeing his shoes off. "What are you doing up so early?"
"Can't sleep," Sasuke muttered, spooning up milk and then pouring it back into the bowl. "I wake up in the middle of the night, panicked about my essay. Then I'm fucked to go back to sleep."
Itachi chuckled. "You've already sent that, Sasuke. There's no good to be done now from fretting over it."
"I know."
Itachi sighed, leaning against the wall. "Well, either way, I know you did your best. That's what's important."
"I'd say the free year of college tuition is what's important," he grumbled, stabbing a cheerio with his spoon. "What did Kisame need?"
Itachi hummed, closing his eyes. "He lost some family in the past two days."
Sasuke blinked. "Ah, shit. He okay?"
Itachi nodded. "Yeah, he's going to be fine. Just needed to talk himself through it." He broke off with a big yawn, one hand coming up to cover his face.
Sasuke snorted. "You're exhausted. Come on." He dragged Itachi into the hallway by his hand, pushing him into his room. Itachi tugged his jeans off and collapsed in bed, burying his face into the extra fabric of the sweatshirt. Sasuke removed his phone from the pocket, setting an alarm to go off half an hour before Itachi's first appointment.
"Sleep well," he murmured as he closed the door behind him.
Itachi did.