"When Myop lays the flowers down, it's symbolizing the loss of her innocence. Summer is over—" Itachi paused mid-sentence at the knock on the door, finger still pressed against the line on his student's AP Lit exam practice book. "Sorry, give me just a moment."
The student nodded graciously, following him with her eyes as he went to the door.
He looked out the peephole first, frowning at the delivery man on the other side. He slid the chain lock out of place.
"Hello," he greeted, opening the door a little cautiously. He hadn't ordered anything recently. Was it for Sasuke?
"Delivery for Itachi Uchiha?"
"That's me," he confirmed.
"Sign here, please."
Itachi elegantly inked his initials onto the line with a little frown.
The delivery man handed him a gigantic bundle of long stemmed red roses.
"This can't be for me," Itachi protested, holding the bouquet away from him like it was dripping mud.
The man shrugged. "Your names here on the list. It's for you."
Itachi stared at the swirling red flowers for a few seconds while the UPS worker walked down the stairs and to his truck in the parking lot.
"Are those from your boyfriend?" His student asked, smiling over at him as he set the bundle on the counter.
"Yeah," Itachi replied.
"That's sweet," she crowed, propping her elbows up on the table and resting her chin on her hands.
"It's out of character," Itachi corrected lightly, sitting back down at the table.
"You should be grateful," the girl chastised romantically. "I wish my boyfriend would send me roses."
"I believe your first wish should be getting a five on this exam," he replied, transitioning back into their studies. "Question seven, here, asks about the historical roots of the short story. You can infer that it probably takes place…." Itachi easily got back into the groove of his lesson, delving into the historical and racial connotations of the story as if he had read it yesterday.
Once his student left for home, he took his time putting away the materials and cleaning up the table. The bouquet of roses was staring at him, it felt like. Eventually, he wandered back over to them; they were in perfect condition, each bloomed to full grace without any signs of wilted browning the edges. He traced his fingers across the ridges of the petals, pulled a leaf off a stem. The thorns hadn't been trimmed.
A corner of a plain white card was peeking out from the ostentatious wrapping holding the stems together. As if it were poisonous, Itachi gingerly plucked from in between two stems and flipped it over.
Love, your Secret Admirer.
Itachi cleared his throat roughly, ignoring the way his stomach dropped. The card balled up in his palm as he clenched his hand shut tightly. He carelessly dropped the flowers back onto the counter and walked to the trashcan.
The crumpled card sat on top of a small pile of eggshells, somehow staring up at him and burning him.
His eyes closed.
Fuck.
"Kisame send you flowers?"
Itachi snapped his head up, rocked out of his thoughts. "Oh. Yeah," he replied a little absently.
"That's…excessive," Sasuke muttered, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl.
"It's sweet." His voice was still aloof as he recalled the words of his students.
Sasuke snorted. "You don't sound terribly convinced." He took a crunchy bite out of the red skin, wiping some juice off the corner of his mouth. "When's Kisame coming over, again?"
"Ah," Itachi glanced over at the clock on the wall, "he should be here in about fifteen minutes."
"How does Kisame have so much money to take you to fancy dinners?" Sasuke asked, tossing the apple up and catching it.
Itachi glared. "Otouto, don't be rude."
"I'm just wondering." He shrugged. "Guess you lucked out, finding yourself a rich boyfriend, huh?"
Itachi stopped walking where he was, face screwed up as he met Sasuke's eyes. "Why would you ever say that, Sasuke? Do you think that I'm only dating him for his money? You think that little of me?"
"What, Nii-san—no, I was just joking…." Sasuke tilted his head, moving around the kitchen counter to approach Itachi. "I was messing around with you. What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just don't like you implying things like that."
"Itachi." Sasuke grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up. "I was joking. You know that." His hands slipped off of Itachi's face. "Tell me what's bothering you."
"It's nothing," Itachi replied automatically. "Don't worry about it."
Sasuke frowned. "Is everything alright between you and Kisame?"
"Yes."
"Is everything okay at work?"
"Yes."
"…are you pregnant?"
Itachi looked up dryly.
"Okay, okay." Sasuke held up two palms in surrender. "I'll drop it. Just…you can, ya know. Talk to me."
Itachi's shoulders relaxed a little, a small smile slipping across his lips. "Thank you little brother. I promise it's nothing serious, so please don't stress over me." He tilted his head. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, I think I hear a skype call ringing from your computer."
"Ah, shit," Sasuke cursed, hurrying into the hallway. "That's Shikamaru, I've got a project with him due in two weeks."
Itachi chuckled. "Be studious while I'm gone."
"I always am, mom."
Itachi followed after Sasuke into the hallway to his own room to get dressed for the evening. Kisame had called him up that evening and said he wanted to spoil him at the fanciest restaurant in the county, just two cities over. Itachi was a little uncomfortable at first since it was going to be an expensive evening, but he had learned by now to pick his battles when it came to Kisame and money.
He picked through his skimpy closet, pulling out the nicest dress shirt and slacks he had to his name. He hummed as he adjusted his necklaces over the collar of the shirt. His finger lingered extra-long on the sharks tooth.
The knock on the door came while he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth. Before he even had the chance to spit, he heard the door to Sasuke's room open, and eventually Kisame's jovial voice float into the entry way. He heard conversation between Sasuke and Kisame while he wiped his mouth off and rinsed the sink.
Itachi came out of his bathroom to find Kisame lounged on his couch, smile spread easy across his face. "Hey, baby."
"Hi," Itachi replied simply, greeting him with a kiss to the cheek before heading to the kitchen to grab his keys.
Sasuke pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge. "Kisame, what's up with the flowers? I didn't know you were so corny."
Kisame tilted is head to the side, looking up from his phone. "What?"
"The flowers you sent Itachi." Sasuke spread his arms wide. "Big ass, cheesy bouquet."
Kisame sent a pointed look to Itachi. "I didn't send Itachi any flowers."
"They weren't from Kisame," Itachi interjected, looking down at his key ring, tracing his index finger along a set of bronze teeth. "I thought they were, at first. I didn't see the sender's card until later."
"Who sent them, then?" Sasuke asked.
"Maria. Her good friend runs a flower shop, so I'm sure she got them at a good price. She is a very lovely girl."
"Ah, right, Maria," Kisame said. "Where did you put the flowers, babe?"
"The wash room," he answered easily, heading to the door to put on his shoes.
"The washroom?" Sasuke's voice was incredulous. "You took all those pretty flowers and stuck them back there?"
Itachi shrugged. "It's a drab room, it could use a happy spirit. Besides, I spend so much time back there." Kisame really was affecting him, Itachi realized, because even an easy lie like that made his heart pick up speed anymore.
Kisame shrugged, uncomplicated smile on his face.
By the time Itachi had his shoes fully on his feet, two dark arms were putting an iron grip around his waist.
"You look like," a kiss, "royalty, baby," Kisame murmured against the back of his neck.
"You're absurd," Itachi chastised quietly.
"I'm not. If only you could look at yourself for even a moment through my eyes."
Itachi turned around in his arms. "I'm perfectly content with you looking at me."
"Mm. Maybe instead of going to dinner we can stay here and I can see how you look underneath all those clothes."
"We can't do both?" Itachi asked, running a finger up the sinewy tendon of Kisame's neck.
"Oh, baby," Kisame said with a chuckle, rubbing Itachi's back a couple times as he released him. "You'll be the death of me."
"I'll be the death of you," Sasuke corrected, scowling from his perch against the kitchen sink. "Maybe keep it in the bedroom."
"There's nothing to keep," Kisame replied with a wink. "I promise."
"Something I'm sure you're not trying to change." Sarcastic.
Kisame grinned.
"If the two of you are quite done," Itachi tutted lightly, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. "I do believe we have reservations."
Kisame kissed his cheek on the way out the door, holding it open for him. "I'll have him home by midnight, sir," he tossed to Sasuke on the way out.
He narrowly dodged the apple core Sasuke threw at him.
The setting sun was casting a pretty orange glow across the cement. Itachi's hand was firmly wrapped up in Kisame's grip, and little teases floated around in the air between them. They were both in a good mood; the restaurant's manager had a sudden emergency and needed to close the place down early so he could leave. Cue Itachi calling up Kisame and arranging plans to spend together for the rest of the afternoon. Kisame had a stack of movies tucked under one arm, and there were promises to make a pillow fort.
"Can I walk a few steps behind you?" Kisame asked, grinning.
"For what reason?" Itachi asked a little coyly, walking up the stairs.
"I just want to stare at that ass for a little bit longer."
"So subtle," Itachi chided, only a bit smug.
It took him a few seconds to get the key in the lock, since Kisame started sucking on his neck, right at the base where his shoulder sloped up. "Kisame." Itachi's voice was a half scolding, half appreciative.
"I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry."
"Of course you're not."
Itachi finally got the door open, shimmying Kisame off of him from behind.
"Tadaima," he called out into house. "Sasuke?"
Sasuke was standing in the kitchen, up against the counter, a tri-folded paper in his hands.
"Sasuke?" Itachi asked again, a little quietly. "Are you alright?"
The only noise that came from his brother's throat was a little choking noise. "I—"
Itachi was at his side in a near instant, face wrought with worry. "Sasuke, please tell me what's wrong. Is Naruto hurt? Did something happen?" He was throttling into full protective brother bear mode.
"No, no—" Sasuke shook his head rapidly. "Nothing like that."
"Is Juugo alright? Did Karin—"
"Nii-san."
Itachi froze at his tone, staring wordlessly into his eyes.
"I need you to read this," Sasuke said, handing out the sheet of paper to him.
Kisame's heart was fluttering all sorts of spastic ways, scared that something seriously bad had happened.
Itachi's brow was furrowed as his eyes squinted a little at the words; he wasn't wearing his reading glasses. It only took a couple of quick flicks of his eyes around the page before it clicked. His eyes widened slowly, mouth slipping open. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, wild gaze flicking between the paper and Sasuke. "Outotou…baby brother, you did it." A breathy laugh left his lips. "Oh, of course you did it, Sasuke, of course—"
"Nii-san, do you not get it, this is—"
Itachi nodded his head rapidly, an unexpected laugh giggle through his lips. "Oh my god," he started laughing even harder. "Oh my god!"
Sasuke slowly smiled, watching Itachi brace himself against the counter as he laughed.
"Will someone—please tell me what's going on?" Kisame asked, a little urgent.
"He won," Itachi laughed, whirling around and waving the paper in Itachi's face.
Sasuke's smile was almost goofy, eyes spacy.
"Won what?" Kisame asked, still a little worried. "Baby?"
"The scholarship!" Itachi exclaimed. "He won the fucking scholarship!" He suddenly jumped up, koala hugging Kisame from the front and planting a giant kiss to his lips.
"Wait, for real?" Kisame kept Itachi firmly pressed against his chest. The kiss startled him just a little.
"For real." Itachi laughed again. "For real for real."
Sasuke, who was still looking stunned, smiled a little, meeting Kisame's eyes. "For real for real," he repeated.
Itachi set his feet back down. "Fifteen thousand dollars," he crowed. "Fifteen thousand—!" He started giggling again, pressing a fist to his mouth.
"Well, fuck—" Kisame's face split with a grin. "We gotta celebrate!"
"Celebrate?" Itachi asked, tilting his head to the side, arms looping loosely around Kisame's neck.
"Duh! You want to just sit on this? This is good fuckin' news, Itachi!"
"Yes—of course, but we had plans together—"
"We can watch movies anytime, baby."
Itachi looked to Sasuke, eyes a silent question.
"Celebrate. That sounds cool, yeah." Sasuke was definitely acting more subdued than normal. A smile played around the edges of his lips. "Just us, or?"
"Everyone!" Kisame boomed, more jovial than ever. "Call Naruto and Suigetsu—fuck, everyone you wanna."
"And do what?" Itachi asked as his fingers skimmed along Kisame's forearm. His smile was still—dazzling, was all Kisame could think. Fuck, Itachi was infinitely more beautiful when he looked so happy.
Kisame grinned. "Eat?" He suggested.
Itachi looked to Sasuke again.
"Sure…sure, yeah, I'm down for whatever." He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping it against his fingers a few times. "Where do you want to go?"
Itachi raised his hands in the air defensively when everyone looked to him for direction. "Don't look at me. I've never celebrated anything."
Kisame rolled his eyes, tousling Itachi's hair roughly. "We'll change that. Right, Sasuke?"
"Right…." Sasuke murmured, smiling. "Yeah." He was still in some state of shock, it looked like.
"What do you think about the Spaghetti Factory?" Kisame asked.
"Spaghetti," Itachi mused. "I haven't had that in a while."
"I'll call Naruto and stuff," Sasuke said. "Hold on."
When he left the room to get his phone, Kisame grabbed onto Itachi's face, planting kisses all over his skin.
Itachi hummed, leaning up into the affection. "Kisame, do you know what this means? I can pay off almost all of my debt, I can set money aside for college, I can—" He started laughing again. "Oh my god, Kisame, what did I do to deserve this?"
"Everything," Kisame whispered into his hair. "Absolutely everything, Itachi. I am so fucking beyond happy for you."
Sasuke got a hold of his friends with the good news, and they all were more than thrilled to meet him at the restaurant. Itachi stuck the letter to the fridge with a giant pink magnet, turning around with a brilliant smile.
Sasuke was rolling his eyes and snorting to try and hide the elation radiating off of him in palpable waves.
Kisame dismissed himself quickly to use the restroom for a moment before they took off.
"Is it alright if I spend the night at Kisame's tonight?" Itachi asked Sasuke as he put his shoes on.
"Why not here?" Sasuke asked.
Itachi cleared his throat a little. "Because."
Sasuke arched one eyebrow.
"Because," Itachi shifted. "Tonight I'm thinking that I might…that we might—"
"Oh," Sasuke interrupted, waving a hand. "Fuck, um." He snorted. "Okay." He paused, tapping his toe against the floor. "He's said it to you, then?" He flicked his eyes to the doorway, and then, more quietly, "that he loves you?"
"No," Itachi replied with a frown.
"Oh."
Silence.
"Then why—?"
"Because I'm tired of waiting." Itachi brushed hair over his shoulder. "It feels like we're missing something. There's no reason to keep prolonging this besides my own stubbornness."
"Protecting yourself is not just being stubborn," Sasuke said.
"I know." Itachi stared up at the ceiling. "But Kisame loves me. Even if he isn't in love with me…he loves me. It's obvious."
Sasuke honestly could only agree. "When did you decide?"
"While he was staying with us a few weeks back."
"You mean when you and your boyfriend were playing house?"
"We were not 'playing house," Itachi defended.
"You absolutely were."
"We were only making up for lost time."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
"He helps me sleep at night."
"Should I go about changing that?" Kisame asked, appearing out of nowhere. He grabbed Itachi around the waist and yanked him against his chest. "I can keep you up all night long, baby."
"Promise?" Itachi asked, a little coyly, looking over his shoulder.
Kisame chuckled a little darkly and bit the skin behind Itachi's ear. One hand caressed a tempting trail across his stomach.
"Please stop," Sasuke demanded through grit teeth.
Kisame winked, grin wide.
Itachi held Kisame's hand the whole way to the restaurant, fingers interlocked and resting on the console by the emergency break. Kisame spent the majority of the car ride joking about what Sasuke could do with his money—how many strippers he could hire, how many bottles of tequila he could buy, how many people he could provide Netflix subscriptions for.
They were the first to arrive at the restaurant; unfortunately, however, they had to wait for a table since it was prime dinner time. They were hanging out in front of the restaurant by a bench when Naruto arrived. He nearly tackled Sasuke into the ground when he barreled into him for a hug, throwing his arms around him and whooping.
"Idiot, you're drawing too much attention!" Sasuke scolded.
Suigetsu showed up only a few minutes, Karin sticking her head out the window and shouting at Sasuke while he parked.
The hostess led them through the restaurant; here was a little boy in the trolley seats giggling his absolute head off who waved at Itachi, a birthday party for a ninety year old woman, and a group of teenagers all catching the same Pokemon on their iPhones.
It felt happy and alive.
For once, Itachi felt like he fit into such a vibrant atmosphere.
They were seated in the side room of the restaurant at a long table, right under a pretty stained glass hanging lamp. The hostess handed out menus and departed sweetly.
"Do you know what you want?" Kisame asked, not even looking at the menu.
"No," Itachi replied, one eyebrow arching delicately. "I've not been here before."
"For shit? How have you never been to the Spaghetti Factory?"
Itachi shrugged one shoulder.
Kisame began to give him a thorough overview of the menu, pointing out more than once what he was getting and why it was the superior dish. Itachi teased him a little by asking about every other type of pasta but that one.
"Baby. Listen to me. You don't understand how good the Mizithra is."
Itachi smiled. "What about the penne?"
Kisame groaned. "I don't know, I've never gotten it."
"Then you have no basis to say that it isn't any better than the Mizithra."
"It isn't."
Itachi laughed a little.
"Hello, my name is Lundon and I'll be your server for today," a voice said next to them suddenly.
Itachi blinked up from the menu to find a smartly dressed man in an apron smiling down at him.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lundon asked, eyes slanting to Itachi.
"Just water," he replied, turning to Kisame.
"Coke," he answered, a little gruffly. "No ice."
While the others put in their drink order, Itachi nudged Kisame's arm to get his attention. He tilted his head to the side. His jolly mood had shriveled up all the sudden.
"Do you see how he's looking at you?"
Itachi rolled his eyes.
"I'm serious."
"I'll be back with your drinks in just a moment," he replied. "Do you need any help with the menu?" He asked, looking straight at Itachi. His smile was charming.
And because Itachi was just in such a good mood, he leaned forward on his elbows and looked up at the man. "I've never been here before. Is there anything you would recommend?"
He had to press his lips together to keep from grinning at the look on Kisame's face he could see out of his peripheral.
"Absolutely! The spaghetti with Sicillian Meatballs is well liked amongst people who tend to stick to the classics. The Angel Hair Pomodoro is a lighter dish, if you're not looking for something too heavy. If you are wanting to try something richer, I personally think that nothing can beat the Garlic Shrimp Fettuccine," he replied happily, leaning down towards Itachi to gesture to the menu.
"Hm," Itachi hummed. "Fettucine? That sounds good."
"I promise I could never steer you wrong," Lundon responded, a little too coy for Kisame's comfort.
"Thank you for the help," Itachi replied lightly. "What was your name, again?"
"Lundon." He wore a brilliant smile. "And yours?"
"Itachi. Thank you again for the recommendation."
Once the chipper waiter left—with a little bounce in his step; wonder where that came from—Itachi turned to Kisame with a cheeky smile.
"You think this is funny?" Kisame grunted, leaning forward. "I'll bend you over the table and cover you in hickies right in front of him."
Itachi nuzzled Kisame's cheek. "Is that so. Do you think about bending me over a lot?"
Kisame shuddered.
Sasuke started throwing chunks of bread at Kisame's head.
"Hey, don't waste perfectly good food!" Suigetsu shouted, grabbing the loaf out of Sasuke's hand.
"It's unlimited," he replied with a shrug.
Lundon came back with a flair, setting the drinks down with perfect memory. He leaned extra close to Itachi when he placed down the glass of water.
"Have you all settled on what you're going to order?" He asked through a dazzling smile. Itachi didn't miss that he was looking right at him.
"I'll have the Mizithra and Brown Butter," Itachi answered, holding out the menu. "My boyfriend promised me I would love it."
"Ah," Lundon replied, a little tightly. "That is also a fan favorite."
"Aw, baby," Kisame crooned. "You do listen to me."
Lundon was a little deflated as he took the rest of the orders. His eyes kept flicking back to Itachi, but Kisame had a telling arm over the back of Itachi's chair. He flicked the shark's tooth necklace out of Itachi's shirt so it could be visibly seen.
"Your possessive side is showing again," Itachi murmured against his ear in between kisses to his jaw line.
Kisame's hand found a nice spot to cling to right above Itachi's iliac crest. "Is it? Maybe if you stopped flirting with cute blond waiters it would stay dormant."
"Flirting? I was only polite."
Kisame snorted. "You're cruel. Actually making me feel bad for him a little bit."
"Oh?" Itachi turned around in his chair. "I can call him back and make it up to him."
Kisame gave him a nice hard squeeze. "Watch it."
"If the two of you are done verbally fornicating," Naruto drawled, ignoring the jab to the ribs Sasuke sent him, "I would like to propose a toast."
Kisame leaned away, winning grin cemented on his face.
Naruto raised his glass of Dr. Pepper. "A toast to my incredible boyfriend, Sasuke, for bringing in that sweet cash money!"
Sasuke glared at him. "I'm not toasting to something that obnoxious."
"Fine, fine," Naruto conceded, waving a hand dismissively. "I guess I'm just," he broke off with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his head with a hand. "I'm really proud of Sasuke. He worked night and day on that essay, and he deserves it, y'know?" He smiled. "I'm just. So happy for you. Both of you."
Sasuke snorted to hide his genuine smile. "Well, then, uh—I'd like to make a toast, too." He cleared his throat a little. "To my brother. Because this is his victory as much as mine. I'd be nothing without him."
"That's not true," Itachi murmured. "You would be every ounce as brilliant and dedicated. You just wouldn't have any clean clothes to wear, since you can't figure out how to do the laundry."
Kisame snickered.
Itachi smiled. "How about—a toast. To brighter futures and better fortune."
The happy sound of their glasses clinking was just a little bit hollow.
Kisame and Suigetsu could be quite a tag team, it was quickly discovered, when they worked together to rib someone. The banter was almost ceaseless, and Itachi wasn't going to even pretend that he could keep up, so he resigned himself to watching and smiling.
It wasn't terribly long—at least, not for an order of their size—for the waiter to return with seven heaping plates of pasta. He set Itachi's down last, with a sly, "let me know if you'd like to change your order. There's plenty more I could offer you."
Itachi decided that was just a little bit over the line.
The food was good—warm and hearty, and it filled Itachi's stomach well. Kisame seemed satisfied with how much Itachi was enjoying it.
The only thing that could be better than the food was Kisame's heavy hand on his thigh, the laughter bouncing from Naruto to Kisame to Suigetsu, the melody of forks tapping against plates and the calm swirl of water glasses being refilled.
There was something about the seven of them together that warmed Itachi's heart. Sasuke…well, Sasuke was Sasuke, and Itachi loved everything about him. Naruto's ceaseless energy and almost overbearing positivity was endearing. Suigetsu could be kind of dull sometimes, and a bit too abrasive and belligerent for Itachi to always get along with, but the kid had a good heart and respected and cared for his friends. Karin was fiery and strong willed; she smacked (often literally) Suigetsu back into place when he got too rude or rowdy. Juugo was like a mountain, quiet and strong with his gentle smiles and simple interjections, but sturdy and dependable no matter what.
And looking around at the table, at all of their happy faces, Itachi felt…at peace, truly and fully relaxed, for one of the first times in years. And when his eyes landed on Kisame...everything just clicked together a little bit.
Kisame was the last puzzle piece to complete the full picture of their motley little family.
Itachi rested his chin on his hand, looking over to the side. His gaze traced over Kisame's grin, carefully watched the way he licked rich sauce off of his thumb and laughed at something Naruto said from the other side of the table.
"I love you so much," Itachi said softly, reaching forward with his fingers to brush Kisame's arm.
Kisame looked over, eyes bright, the chuckle gradually leaving his throat. "Did you say something, babe?"
Itachi bit a smile between his teeth. "I said that you still have sauce on your face, you giant oaf." He reached forward, pulling the napkin off of his lap. He rubbed his against Kisame's cheek, pausing at the tattoos that slanted across his cheekbone.
"You take such good care of me," Kisame crooned, twisting another mound of pasta around his fork.
"I know." He refolded the napkin. "This is why you're never supposed to take your date out for spaghetti."
"You're not my date, though."
Itachi raised an eyebrow. "I'm not?"
"Nope." Kisame's grin just wasn't going away today. "You're my boyfriend. Big difference, ya know? A date is someone you're still trying to convince to commit to you. A boyfriend is already in too deeply, despite your spaghetti eating methods." He shoved the pasta in his mouth.
"Thank goodness you've already secured me," Itachi muttered a little playfully, reaching back up with the napkin. "You're a mess."
Kisame grinned again, with his eyes, too, this time; Itachi swore he could feel his whole entire heart melt and relocate somewhere around the vicinity of his spleen.
The waiter appeared, then, and Kisame leaned over to sloppily kiss Itachi on the cheek. Itachi permitted it, even played along when he nuzzled up against his jaw.
This time Lundon didn't say anything when he set the bill down in front of it.
Kisame was laughing heartily at something Karin said when he brandished his shiny silver credit card.
"Hey," Itachi started, reaching for it. "No."
"Babe," Kisame chuckled, "don't even try. You won't win this one."
Itachi tugged childishly on Kisame's arm. "Let me help pay for it."
"I told you this way my treat," Kisame replied good-naturedly.
Itachi wrinkled his nose. "I'm the one that just won ten grand; this should definitely be my tab."
Kisame sighed dramatically. "Fine," he groaned, dragging the word out. "I'll let you pay for some of it." He got a gleam in his eyes, and Itachi knew he had a smart remark before he even said it. "Just the tip?"
Itachi leaned back into his chair. "Why do I expect anything of you anymore?"
Kisame grinned and tossed him the black bill folder. "I can't tell you that." He leaned over the armrest of his chair, kissing Itachi firmly on the temple. "I'm so happy for you, baby."
Itachi leaned into his touch. "Thank you. Will you properly congratulate me at home?" He asked, tilting his head invitingly.
Kisame gave him a chaste kiss. "Just the tip?"
Itachi snorted.
They were interrupted by a waitress with a brown ponytail setting a plate of pasta in front of Itachi. "Spinach Ravioli with cream sauce for you," she said with a sweet smile. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
Itachi blinked at the dish, suddenly unable to speak. As if she had fucking injected him with antifreeze, he just went cold. His stomach, his hands, his mouth. Cold.
"Uh—" Kisame started, looking confused, "we didn't order this."
"Hm?" The waitress tilted her head. "No, I definitely have an order for this. Are you certain?"
Kisame held up the bill. "Yeah—we've already received our bill and everything."
Itachi stared at plate in front of him. No, no, no no no nonono—
The waitress was frowning. "Oh, well…would you like it anyways? I won't be able to serve it to anyone else."
"Will we be charged for it?" Kisame asked.
The waitress shrugged. "No, I guess not. It must have been a ghost order—they happen sometimes."
Kisame chuckled. "It's just our day, then, huh, Itachi? Could you box it up for us? We—"
"I don't want it," Itachi said suddenly, turning his head to Kisame.
"Just take it home and eat it later—"
"I hate ravioli," Itachi pressed, a little abruptly. His fingers were tight on the top of the desk. "I don't want it, I'm not taking it home."
Kisame tilted his head. "Babe, are you okay?"
Itachi's eyes flicked around the curious faces around the table staring at him. "I just really don't want it, Kisame."
"Well—"
"Hell, I'll take it!" Suigetsu shouted suddenly. "Box that shit up! I'm not going to waste perfectly good food."
Karin smacked him up the back of the head. "Don't be rude, asshole!"
The waiter gave a confused smile, looking to Kisame for direction—since he was the only one acting normal (for a change). "I'll get you a box and be right back. Would you like me to take your bill with me?"
"That would be fantastic," Kisame replied, eyes on Itachi. "Thank you."
As soon as the waitress walked away, Kisame slipped a worried hand across Itachi's upper back. "Itachi, what's wrong? You just got all closed up all the sudden."
Itachi met his eyes calmly. "Nothing's wrong. I just…really hate ravioli," he explained, shrugging one shoulder.
"Shit, did you almost choke to death on it?"
Itachi only shrugged again.
As soon as the waitress came back and returned Kisame's credit card, Itachi stood up. Suigetsu thanked both him and Kisame for the free food with a set of slaps on the back.
Kisame set a hand on Itachi's hip as they walked off, but Itachi suddenly grabbed it and pulled it forward until Kisame's arm was around his waist. Kisame raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't complain.
Obviously.
They said their goodbyes in the parking lot. Itachi hugged Karin and Suigetsu and nodded to Juugo before they climbed into Suigetsu's car.
"I hope all of you live another day," Kisame called out after them.
Suigetsu flipped them off through the window.
Itachi tried not to be a spy as Sasuke and Naruto said goodbye. Naruto had his arms locked around Sasuke, hands clasped against his back. He kissed his jaw and knocked their foreheads together.
Itachi felt arms wrap around his middle. "Jealous?" Kisame asked in his ear, kissing at the very top of his cheekbone, right under his eye.
"No," Itachi replied casually.
Kisame frowned and squeezed him a little. "Baby, tell me what's gotten into you all the sudden."
Itachi sighed, dragging a hand over his face. He suddenly felt very, very tired. "Nothing. I just—I got exhausted all of the sudden." He turned around in his arms, sliding his hands against Kisame's thick, sinewy neck. "Will you take me home?" He kissed his nose. "And maybe spend the night?" He needed Kisame: needed his strong arms that made him feel safe, needed his throaty laugh that made him feel warm.
"Ah, shit, baby. Why do you have to tempt me like that?" He moved his hands around to Itachi's arms, running them up and down the soft cotton of his shirt. "I have to be in early tomorrow, so I can't stay the night."
"Oh." Itachi frowned, shoulder slumping a little. "That's fine."
"Sorry, babe," Kisame muttered into Itachi's hair. "I'll take you home, though, of course."
Neither Itachi nor Kisame said much on the ride home. Itachi's mood was still subdued, but Sasuke was surprisingly talkative, and filled some of the empty air. It was pretty merited, given the weight of his newest accomplishment and the airy feeling that finally he and Itachi would have their financial heads above water for a good while.
Sasuke quietly left the truck when Kisame pulled into the lot of their apartment, giving the two of them some space.
Kisame took Itachi's hand and gave him a hard squeeze. "You're starting to make me worry about you."
"Don't do that," Itachi replied quietly, rubbing his thumb over Kisame's knuckles. "There's nothing wrong."
"I feel like you're lying to me," Kisame grunted. "You know I don't like that."
"I'm not lying," Itachi said. "I don't want to make a big deal out of something not worth fussing over."
Kisame's eyes were scrutinizing.
Itachi sagged against the seat, running a tired hand over the bangs sweeping along the side of his forehead. "Trust me. You trust me, right?"
Kisame paused, eventually relaxing with a sigh. "Yes, baby, you know it. I trust you."
"Thank you," Itachi murmured. He leaned forward and kissed Kisame's temple. "Thank you for the meal and the ride home. Drive safe and sleep well. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah," Kisame replied. He grabbed Itachi's hand as he stepped out of the truck. "Promise me if it—whatever this is—gets worse that you'll tell me?"
He managed a little smile. "I promise."
Itachi's stomach felt like acid as he walked behind Sasuke to their apartment.
He would chop off his left foot if it meant this wasn't what he thought it was.
Hey. What are you doing tonight?
Itachi glanced over at his phone when he heard the buzz on the countertop. He shook the suds off of his hands from the soapy dishwasher and wiped the remaining water on his jeans as he crossed the room. He tilted his head with a small smile when he read the text.
Why?
You're so cheeky. Can I take you out to dinner? There's this little brick oven pizza place over in Goldbrook that just opened.
Itachi let his smile take full form. Goldbrook? That's close. So would you be picking me up in your motorcycle, then?
Why does it matter?
I was only wondering if we could make out on the hood of your truck again or not.
Is that what you're still thinking about? I'm sure we could find another place to make out. We could find another place to do a lot more, too.
Just then Sasuke came walking down the hall. "Hey, Nii-san, I'm gonna go hang out with Naruto and his friends."
Itachi blinked. "Of course. What time are you leaving?"
"Now, I think," he replied, shoving his feet into his shoes. "We're gonna grab a bite and hit a movie, last I checked."
"That sounds fine." He glanced at his phone. "What time are you planning to be done? I don't want you taking a bus home for so long that late at night alone, so Suigetstu will need to drop you off, okay?"
Sasuke scratched the back of his head. "Actually, a bunch of us were gonna crash at Naruto's afterwards."
Itachi hummed. "Oh, so you're already spending the night with Naruto now—"
"Nii-san!" Sasuke practically screeched. "What the fuck!"
"What? With how much you hassle me about my sex life, I can't even make a comment on yours?"
"It's—it's a group thing! Why would you even say that!"
"A group thing? Sasuke, I'm not going to judge your lifestyle, but are you sure—"
Sasuke covered his ears. "I hate Kisame. You were never this lewd before you started dating him."
Itachi smirked. "It's alright, little brother. I'm only teasing you because you didn't tell me that you'd already done it."
Sasuke stared at him, something of a mortified expression on his face.
"If you needed condoms, you could have just asked instead of stealing mine."
Sasuke's face was red. "What, you count your condoms now? Besides, it isn't like you use them."
"By choice," Itachi sniffed. "And I don't count them, but I don't have any left. Should have known, what with how energetic Naruto is."
"Oh my god." Sasuke gripped the counter. "I'm never letting him come over ever again ever."
Itachi laughed. "Lighten up. I won't say anything in front of him." Well, that wasn't true, but it was a big brother's job to make those comments, wasn't it? "You've been washing the sheets, though, haven't you? It can get quite unpleasant if you don't—"
"Leaving, leaving right now."
Itachi laughed. "I'm only trying to look out for you! I'll get you more condoms. Do you need lube, too? You'll regret it immensely if you don't use it, I don't want you in that type of pain."
"Of course we use lube, what do you think—wait, who the fuck says I'm on the bottom?"
Itachi rolled his eyes. "Brother knows best, Sasuke. Besides, it's nothing to be ashamed of."
Sasuke stared at him for a moment, blush still smeared across his cheeks. "We switch. Unlike you, you nosy fucking twink."
"Watch your mouth," Itachi reprimanded with a smirk. "Have fun tonight. Don't do anything in a place where you'll get caught."
"We're not going to—! Never mind. I'll see you later." He slammed the door behind him.
Itachi chuckled. "I love you!" He called after him.
He turned back to his phone. Well, as luck would have it, my evening just totally cleared. When do you want to meet?
At your house. I'm picking you up.
Kisame, that's quite a bit of gas. I don't expect you to do that. The bus really is no trouble for me, you know that.
And miss a chance to feel your body pressed up against me for 20 minutes? Yeah, I really want to pick you up.
Itachi flipped his hair over his shoulder. So, I'll meet you there at 6 then?
You are a cruel mistress.
I'm kidding.
Good. I'll be out your house at 5:45. Wear something that makes your ass look good, yeah?
See you soon, Kisame.
About an hour later, Itachi stood in front of his closet, frowning at his clothes. Wear something that makes your ass look good, yeah? He twisted his lips. He had never so badly wanted Kisame to find him attractive then he did in that moment, standing in front of his closet, trying to find something to wear. Something that would drive Kisame mad, something that would keep those hands and lips on his skin….
Good thing he had exactly three and a half outfits to choose from.
He ended up sitting on the couch, fiddling with his necklace and flicking through his phone when the knock sounded on his door. He hopped up, swinging it open with a neutral expression.
Kisame was wearing worn jeans, an ocean blue tank with shark prints on it, and flip flops. His piercings caught the light just right, and his grin and those tattoos—
"Hey, hot stuff," he greeted, looking Itachi up and down.
"Hello," Itachi said, closing the door and turning around to lock it.
"Ah, I see you listened to my request," came an appreciative voice behind him.
Itachi whirled around. "Eyes up," he commanded. What, he wasn't going to admit how much he liked that.
Kisame made a show of dragging his eyes up to make contact. "You look good, I mean it."
"I'm wearing nothing special," Itachi responded, curling his fingers around Kisame's thick arm and directing him towards the motorcycle.
"I know. You always look good. Your ass would look good in a paper bag."
Itachi rolled his eyes, picking up the helmet and beginning to fasten it around his head.
"Hey, now, don't I at least get a kiss?" Kisame asked jovially. He was in a good mood, Itachi could tell.
Itachi paused. "Yes, if you'd like."
"I'd always like," he muttered in reply, taking the helmet from Itachi's hands and setting it back on the bike seat so he could pull their bodies together. He pressed their lips together, one hand on Itachi's hip, the other grasping the soft skin of his face and curling around his jaw. Itachi let his hands run up that chest that did so many different things to his mind, kissing him slowly and letting his lips slip open.
Kisame pulled away after a bit with a chuckle, sliding a thumb across Itachi's lips.
"You're in a good mood," Itachi commented his thoughts, leveling his voice so he wouldn't sound breathless.
"I got to see you again," was the warm reply.
Well, if that didn't just make Itachi's heart a little jumpy.
Kisame gave him another chaste kiss on the lips and then picked the helmet back up, fastening it on to Itachi's head. The frown he got in return was so cute he pushed his luck by learning forward for another kiss.
Twenty minutes later, Kisame had his arm looped around Itachi's waist and was leading him through a parking lot permeated with the scent of smoky dough and into a restaurant built with ashy brick and rich wood. They got a secluded booth in a corner, quiet, just how Itachi liked.
Dinner was light and buzzing with jokes and banter. Kisame's ocean eyes were bright, and Itachi swore that he never stopped grinning once. Itachi reached his hand across the table without even thinking about it about halfway through the meal, and Kisame pushed his fingers in between his almost instinctively. Itachi didn't even bother hiding his smile in his water glass anymore; he would never stop doing it if he did. He lost count of how many times Kisame's words got lost on his ears because he couldn't focus on anything besides Kisame's grin and the look in his eyes. Itachi may have leaned forward a few times for spontaneous kisses, just maybe. And somehow by the time the desert menu came around, he ended up with his elbow on the table, head in his hand like a love struck idiot.
His chest felt like it was leaking helium. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so…light. Itachi always felt a heaviness wrapped around him, ever since he was a child. But Kisame seemed to be strong enough to almost completely erase it.
No one else could do that, he realized.
And he couldn't remember ever being so happy.
He was in love; gods, nothing else felt quite so good, did it?
Kisame was in the middle of a story about how he and Suigetsu got caught in a riptide when he went surfing by the time Itachi slipped the last of the ice cream between his lips. The bill had already been paid for and was sitting at the edge of the table, split between them per Itachi's insistence.
"—and we got away fine, but fuck, Suigetsu was so messed up he still won't even go in the ocean and—'
"Kisame, do you have lubricant at your apartment?"
For the first time all evening, Kisame's face went completely blank. "…what?"
Itachi gave a little smile. "Lube? Do you have it?"
"…yeah."
Itachi stood up. "Good," he said, brushing off his pants. "Let's go, then."
Kisame blinked, still seated. "Go where," he asked slowly.
Itachi tried to suppress a smirk. "To your apartment," he replied, annunciating each syllable.
Kisame let the information sink in for a second. He bored a very intense gaze into Itachi's eyes. "Are you serious?"
Itachi raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I am joking?"
Kisame jumped up. "Let's go."
Itachi slipped his arm around Kisame's, walking close to him as they left the restaurant. He kept feeling Kisame's arm flex and tense, which made him snicker under his breath.
The ride home was…tense, but it didn't at all bother Itachi. He felt very comfortable molded against Kisame's back, and he was thoroughly enjoying seeing Kisame flounder for once. Kisame drove much faster than normal, as well, he noted. And that was saying something.
As Kisame pulled into his driveway, Itachi began to press kisses to his neck, Kisame muttering something that was drowned out by the grumbling of the motorcycle beneath them. He pulled slowly into his garage and shut the bike down. Itachi hopped off lithely, pulling his helmet up and off of his head. He tugged his hair band out and shook his hair out around his face, running a hand through it to dispel his helmet hair.
"Fuck, Itachi," Kisame mumbled, watching hair like ink spill over and around that flawless, pale skin. "Baby…"
Itachi held a hand out, smiling honestly. "Lead the way," he instructed.
Kisame's large hand grasped his. He quickly hit the garage door button and led Itachi inside of his house. He wasted no time, immediately heading towards the stairs and nearly running to the second floor.
"Wait," Itachi laughed, nearly stumbling in the wake of Kisame's haste, his other hand coming up to hold onto the back of Kisame's shirt.
When they got to Kisame's bedroom, he turned and put both of his hands on Itachi's face. "You want this?" he asked, pushing dark, wayward hair behind Itachi's ear, looking him in the eyes, "for sure?"
Itachi hummed, sliding his hands around Kisame's neck. "For sure," he murmured in reply, pushing himself up onto his toes, asking for a kiss. He didn't know if it would be a good idea to let Kisame know just how badly he wanted it in that moment. How many times he had almost given in and just barely got to his senses.
Kisame complied hurriedly, molding their lips together. His hands moved to Itachi's hips and hoisted him up like he weighed nothing; Itachi bit his lower lip hard in defiance, but locked his legs around Kisame's hips anyway, pushing his slender hands into Kisame's blue hair, nipping at Kisame's lips until he could slip his tongue inside his mouth. Kisame walked carefully into his bedroom, reached his bed, and rather ungracefully plopped down, Itachi tumbling against him.
Itachi settled himself on top of Kisame just a little awkwardly, on of Kisame's large hands grasping at his back. One arm was bent, elbow keeping him upright. His other hand cupped Kisame's cheek.
"Uh," Kisame started, pulling back just a little so he could look him in the eyes. "What—what do you want to do? Like, everything?"
Itachi blinked. "You mean, do I want you to fuck me?"
Kisame's eyes got murky, but other than that he didn't respond. Couldn't respond, maybe. "Uh—that, yeah," he eventually managed.
"You know," Itachi said, almost conversationally, "you make sex jokes on the hour, practically. I would have never guessed that you would freeze up like this."
"I'm not freezing up," Kisame defended in mumble. "I just—"
"I get it," Itachi soothed, wondering where all of his confidence was coming from when he was internally screaming with nerves. "I've made this far too anticipated, haven't I?"
Itachi pushed himself into Kisame's lap, setting his legs gently against the side of his partner's.
"Do you know how many times I've thought about this?" Kisame breathed, running his hands up and down Itachi's waist, trying to loosen him up, trying to loosen himself up.
"Hopefully not too many," Itachi murmured, adjusting his position on Kisame's lap, fitting them together in all the right places, "or else I might not be as good as your fantasies."
Kisame shook his head, pushing his face into Itachi's neck and biting at his throat. "You're perfect," he whispered in a voice that nearly sounded like a prayer. "Itachi, you're perfect."
"No, I'm not," Itachi insisted, letting his head tilt back so Kisame's tongue could do as it pleased. In fact, he was so incredibly imperfect, he wondered how Kisame could ever say otherwise. But then Kisame's teeth found purchase on a spot under his jaw, and Itachi couldn't wonder about much at all, besides where else he could get Kisame to put his mouth. He grabbed one of Kisame's hands and moved it to his ass, needy for more touches.
"You're perfect for me," Kisame replied, grabbing a handful around his jeans and squeezing in a way that made Itachi twitch. Kisame put his other hand on Itachi's chest, grasping onto him like he would die if he didn't.
Itachi began rolling his hips slightly, tentatively—and of course a bit uncoordinated due to his lack of practice and skill—but desperate for some of the tension to let up, pressing kisses against Kisame's rough face and jaw, strong hands running up his back. When those hands reached the back of his head, Kisame pulled his face away and pushed their lips together again. They kissed like that, Itachi rocking his hips into Kisame, who gratefully spread his legs open a little to better fit against him.
He pulled away, Kisame's tongue slipping out of his mouth, lips wet with their combined saliva. He pushed his hands up the sides of Kisame's arms, feeling those muscles under his skin like warm steel wrapped in silk. Kisame bit his lips in restraint, letting Itachi's hands continue their journey as they pleased. Itachi reached his chest and said, just a little breathlessly from all the kissing, "your heart is beating so fast."
"Yeah," Kisame responded, having no other response since he had much more productive ideas of what he could be doing with his tongue.
"I want you naked," Itachi murmured, slipping his hands under the edge of Kisame's shirt, tilting his head to the side.
"Your wish is my command," he replied easily, words thrumming with excitement, eyes not leaving Itachi face. He very lightly pushed Itachi back, so he would put his weight against his heels and give Kisame room to pull his shirt over his head. Itachi's hands immediately pressed all over his chest and stomach. He pushed Kisame down to lie on his back, so his venturous hands could do what they wished; needless to say, Kisame was more than willing. Itachi's eyes ran all over Kisame's exposed skin, tongue running over his lips for a moment. Those tattoos. The tips of his fingers traced across his skin until they slid down to the band of his jeans, where those inky black lines disappeared.
He leaned down abruptly, pushing Kisame's arms up so his hands were in surrender under his head, and licked a line up on dark streak on Kisame's chest. He followed the intricate pattern with his tongue, hearing Kisame curse bellow him. He pressed himself hard into Kisame's groin, the pressure more a tease than any sort of release, feeling himself heat up as he licked another long trail around the curve of Kisame's muscle. He could feel the flexing tension in Kisame's wrist as he tried to control his movements. When Itachi was done playing with Kisame's tattoos—for now, at least, because he could literally do it all day—he leaned his head down, delicately catching one of the rings through Kisame's nipple between his teeth and tugging on it.
"Oh, oh," Kisame groaned, thrusting his hips up hard into Itachi's, jerking his entire body. Itachi melted just a little, eyes hooding as he tugged again, because those hips were strong, and the implications of just what exactly Kisame could do to his body with that type of power made him all sorts of weak.
He pressed one thumb against the other silver nipple ring, sitting back up, if only just because Kisame wasn't naked enough yet. His lips were wet, and the light caught them just the right way, and Kisame had to grab onto the comforter to keep himself from trying to get his dick between those pretty lips.
Itachi was almost completely hard at this point, and Kisame was too, his bulge rubbing Itachi in the most wonderful way. He grinded down on him, a little clumsily, brow furrowed because damn. He knew that he was supposed to be undressing his lover, but how was he supposed to concentrate on anything when what he was doing felt so good? In one of the hardest decisions of his life—at least, it felt that way—Itachi stilled his hips in favor of revealing more of that delicious skin, and he began to unbutton Kisame's pants.
Kisame leaned up and kissed the side of that milky pale face, lifting his hips so that Itachi could pull his jeans off more easily. Itachi stared down at his tented blue boxers, lip caught between his teeth.
"See something you like?" Kisame asked gruffly, the teasing tone lost in how lusty his voice was.
Itachi hummed, fingers slipping around his erection and squeezing slightly. Kisame let out a grunt, falling back down onto the bed, digging his hands into Itachi's waist. Itachi glanced back up at him as his fingers edged under the cotton fabric and dipped down to feel skin, shirking the incredibly unneeded underwear off.
"Fuck," Kisame muttered, pushing himself up on his arms again to watch those pale fingers curled around his length start to move. "Itachi…."
Itachi's eyes flicked back up to him, leaning forward to receive more kisses, free hand tangling in blue hair.
"Take your clothes off," Kisame growled around his lips. Itachi pulled a hairsbreadth away from Kisame's mouth, swallowed, and then leaned back again. "For fucks sake, I'm going to die if you don't."
"Here," he said softly, lifting his arms so Kisame could pull his shirt off. And he did, immediately, his strong hands grasping as much skin as he could, Itachi's fingers returning to his cock. "Although, I would wager you are being a little over dramatic."
"Let's not find out."
It was hard for Kisame to focus on any one thing, with Itachi's hands on his dick and his nude torso revealed to him. He leaned forward, trying to kiss and bite all the skin available to him. Itachi's fingers tightened around him and Kisame felt his whole body twitch in response. He chuckled as Itachi fidgeted in his lap, clearly enjoying the special type of attention.
"And your pants," he prompted, jerking his hips up and into Itachi. Itachi bit his lip, hands very reluctantly and slowly leaving Kisame's hair and cock. He popped his button and tugged down the zipper down, and then leaned forward into Kisame again so Kisame could do the honors, putting their lips together. Because damn Kisame was a good kisser.
Kisame eagerly tugged Itachi's pants off, supporting his weight so Itachi could get his legs out. Itachi immediately settle back onto Kisame, rocking slightly into his lap as they kissed, grinding his clothed erection against Kisame's bare one, heat spreading through his body.
"You're being such a fucking tease, Itachi," Kisame hissed, thinking secretly that the naked skin of Itachi's chest felt marvelous against his. "Even when we're having sex, I can't get you undressed." He groaned a little as he slipped his hands over Itachi's underwear to squeeze his ass. "Baby, have mercy."
Itachi paused from the trail of kisses he was planting along Kisame's jaw, his hips stilling. "So demanding," he lilted. He quickly slipped his boxer briefs off, and Kisame's eyes locked onto the newly revealed skin.
"Itachi," Kisame groaned, "I want to touch you."
"Then touch me," he replied, easily, pushing his dark hair out of his face and meeting his gaze with those endless eyes, and Kisame thought suddenly thought that he could be some kind of god he was so beautiful. And for a moment, he didn't deserve him, Itachi was too beautiful, too wonderful, and who was Kisame in comparison to Itachi?
But Itachi had that quietly patient look on his face, and a lust in his eyes that made Kisame' body hum. Itachi fingers were flittering around his skin and the edge of his hair, waiting and encouraging. Kisame knew that Itachi didn't let people close to him easily, and he didn't waste his time on those that weren't worth it. And Kisame trusted him unconditionally.
"Touch me," Itachi repeated gently, words nudging Kisame out of his daze.
So Kisame did, first sliding his hands down Itachi's waist and across his hips, then down the tops of his thighs. His hands continued their travel around, cupping the backs of his thighs and moving up to finally grip at his ass. His hands played with the skin there for a bit before slipping back around to tug at his cock. Itachi bit his lips again, hips continuing their previous movement. Both of his hands gripped Kisame's face to kiss him as his lover pressed their cocks together.
"Shit," Itachi mumbled, back stiffening as Kisame tugged on him.
"What's wrong?" Kisame asked, pushing kisses against Itachi's jawline, carefully moving them together.
"Absolutely nothing," Itachi replied as his eyelids fluttered. "Kisame," he said around a swallow as he started moving his hips again.
"Fuck, say that again," Kisame grunted.
"Your name?"
"Uh—yeah." Kisame gripped both Itachi's hips—biting Itachi's lips when he protested the release of his dick—to control the motions of their grinding.
Itachi let out a little noise, fumbling down at their connected groins. "Kisame…" he said again, one hand tightening on Kisame's shoulder. He leaned over then, ignoring Kisame's protesting noise when his cock slipped out of his grasp, and dug through Kisame's bedside drawer until he snagged the lube. "Here," he murmured, popping the cap and taking Kisame's hand. He straddled Kisame's lap again, pressing tight against him. Kisame had that grin on his face again. He slid a slippery finger down Itachi's back and, when he reached his entrance, slowly pushed it inside.
Itachi stayed very still for a minute or two, getting used to the feeling. When he felt comfortable he resumed his rocking, the pleasant friction replacing the uncomfortable sensation of Kisame's large finger moving around inside of him.
Kisame worked slowly but thoroughly, watching Itachi's face carefully for signals if he was in any sort of pain or not. Eventually he eased three fingers in and moved them around, sliding them in and out, figuring out which movements made Itachi stiffen and arch. He gently stretched him, taking very careful note of Itachi's body language, slowing down if Itachi looked at all uncomfortable, doing it again if he looked pleasured. Itachi had a very fun ass to play with, and a million thoughts of what he could and hopefully would do to it in the future flashed through his mind.
Kisame furrowed his brow, wiggling his fingers around, looking for—
"Stop!" Itachi shouted suddenly, slamming his hand onto Kisame's bicep.
"What, what—!" Kisame looked up at him with wide eyes, freezing in fear that holy shit what did he do wrong, oh god did he hurt him.
But Itachi's fingers were twitching around Kisame's arms, and his head was leaning back.
"Are you okay—"
"What was that?" His voice was half of a moan, as if he was intent on finding the answer, but also pretty desperate for Kisame to repeat the action again and again and again and—well, yeah.
Kisame paused, and then tilted his head to the side. "What was…this?"
Itachi's groan broke off into something more high pitched as he twitched. "Yes, that," he choked, pushing forward suddenly to grind his forehead against Kisame's.
Kisame ran his finger across the smooth little button. "Want me to do it again?"
Itachi didn't move, very stubbornly and defiantly refusing to answer.
"I'm not gonna do anything until you tell me, babe." Someday, Kisame was going to have Itachi begging for him. Someday.
Itachi sent him a pleading glance, but relented with a squeeze shut of his eyes. "Yes, 'Same, again."
He pressed his finger down. "So this is all new to you?"
"Stop making fun of me," Itachi muttered, pushing against Kisame's chest gently. "Okay, that's good, that's enough. Just…keep going." He swallowed. "With the rest of it."
Kisame grinned, pressing against Itachi's sweet spot one more time, reveling and the sudden jerk and little noise it elicited, before he slid his fingers out completely. He then scooted himself back, keeping a hand on Itachi's hip. Laying back against the pillows, he let his hand lazily slide up and down his cock as Itachi pushed himself onto his knees.
Itachi shirked forward, one hand hard on Kisame's chest, the other replacing Kisame's hand on the larger man's cock with his own. "This may take a few minutes," he reminded, and Kisame nodded, eyes locked on Itachi's long hair that swayed behind him as he positioned himself.
"I'm here all night," Kisame grinned.
"All night?" Itachi joked, carefully moving himself appropriately and starting to sink down.
"Oh," Kisame groaned as the head of his cock was enveloped. "Oh."
It took a bit, but Itachi managed to work his way down until he could sit again on Kisame's lap. Kisame was breathing very deliberately and precisely, fingers like iron on Itachi's hips. "Oh, fuck babe, fuck, fuck, fuck…." His legs stretched and stiffened, muscles on his stomach quivering.
Itachi let out a breathless chuckle, concentrating hard on staying relaxed and adjusting. Kisame was…definitely not average sized, and he certainly wasn't used to having a cock pushed inside of him.
But oh, oh. Oh, it was nice.
"Fuck me, we haven't even really started and this is already ten times better than what I imagined…."
"Better? Already?" Itachi let out. "I'm not even good at this. Maybe it's been just as long for you as it has been for me."
"No," Kisame mumbled. "It's because it's you."
Itachi paused at that, wanting to bend down to kiss Kisame for the comment; if he did that, though, Kisame's cock would slip out of him and he would have to start all over. He began to move his hips from side to side, slowly. Kisame skirted his fingers up and down Itachi's hips, trying to channel his urge to push his hips upwards. Itachi got a nice rhythm, swaying his hips and body side to side as Kisame stiffened and twitched below him. He relocated one hand to Itachi's cock, rubbing at the tip and pulling back his foreskin. Itachi's hair brushed around him as he rolled his hips, lip between his teeth again and eyes fluttering shut.
"For fucks sake, can you move?" Kisame near begged, muscles clenched way too hard in his attempt to keep still.
Itachi let out some sort of breathy noise—maybe it was supposed to be a snort, or maybe a laugh; either way, his composure was already slipping—and began to roll his hips in little circles, hair spilling around his neck and sticking with sweat to his forehead, breath catching—okay, maybe it was more like tiny little gasps—every time Kisame pressed up inside him against his prostate. He let Kisame slip out of him and back in just a little bit, enough to be a tease but not enough to grant Kisame any real pleasure.
And enough to get him used to it because. Shit. He wasn't.
"I'm gonna lose my mind," Kisame muttered, "if you don't start fucking moving."
"What exactly does this look like to you?" Itachi asked, rolling his hips faster. But, he had mercy, (besides, he was growing impatient as well) and finding grip on both of Kisame's shoulders, pushed himself up and let himself slide back down. Kisame helped, lifting Itachi by his waist and letting gravity do the rest. Itachi guessed his weight was almost indiscernible to Kisame's strong arms. With Kisame moving him up, and Itachi rocking his hips like he did, Kisame damn near thought he would pass out.
Itachi's bit both of his lips, facial expression cinching. His breath hitched and his hand slipped and jerked off of Kisame's well defined chest and—"Fuck," he choked, pushing himself back up off of his elbow.
"Oh," Kisame said throatily. "You gonna keep talking like that?"
"Hmm?" Itachi's eyes were squeezed shut, and his movements were slipping.
"Open your eyes, baby," Kisame said in a scratchy voice, removing a hand from Itachi's waist to push hair away from his face and behind his neck.
Itachi shook his head, sitting in Kisame's lap.
"Baby," Kisame nearly purred. "Look at me. Come on."
It took a few seconds, squirming slightly, until he opened one dark eye.
"Are you uncomfortable?" Kisame asked, rubbing a soothing thumb against his wrist.
"No," Itachi wrinkled his nose. "No, I—mmnf."
Kisame grinned. "Here, baby," he said, sliding his hands around the soft skin of Itachi's hips. "Just gotta get a rhythm." He helped coax Itachi back up, internally reveling in the feeling, and eased him back down. Later, later when they had more experience in their movements, in the ways they could shift and rub and fuck their bodies together, later Kisame would teach him how to roll his hips, how to tighten at the right times and how to nearly dance on him. Later, he would have Itachi practice on him all through the night, until they were both seeing stars. Later, he would keep a tight hand around the base of Itachi's dick and have him ride himself to completion. Later, he would watch Itachi fall apart on top of him.
But this wasn't later, this was now, and Itachi was still warring with himself—with his ever so masterfully crafted composure, with his insecurities, with his inexperience. This was now, and it was supposed to be meaningful and beautiful and Kisame realized that maybe Itachi's collected attitude beforehand was just a front to shield Kisame from the nervousness he was feeling.
Itachi's eyes, which had been alternating between closed and staring at Kisame's chest, flicked up and met his.
"So good," Kisame murmured, breath sporadic. "You're doing so good, baby."
"Well," Itachi grunted. "Good is an—adjective." His face screwed up again and he shuddered, but Kisame could tell he was getting into the groove of it all.
"Yeah, baby. That too."
Once Itachi got fully adjusted and started to move more quickly and smoothly, Kisame began to thrust up with those powerful hips of his, pushing in with more force. The longer it went on the more useless Itachi became, exerting more of his energy into gripping onto his lover for dear life than moving in sync with him.
"Kisame," Itachi let himself say again, one part because Kisame's name felt good on his lips, the other because he knew Kisame liked it so much, as he began to bite at Itachi's neck. "Oh—!" a moan caught in his throat and he arched his back and neck, hair a cascade of black ink behind him. Even when Itachi lost grip and rhythm, Kisame's hips still snapped up. Itachi relished in the movement, head bent, hands clinging to Kisame's face.
Kisame grinned again, teeth nipping a trail from Itachi's chin, across his jaw, and up to his ear. He murmured, "You have no fucking idea how unbelievable you are making me feel right now." He pushed his lips up to kiss Itachi's forehead. "You have no fucking idea how unbelievable you are, my Itachi." He stilled Itachi completely then, sinking him back down on his cock and not letting him move. He smirked at the lust lost look he got for it, Itachi's eyes swirling with confusion and a little bit of a glare. With one powerful movement he got Itachi onto his back and pushed back inside, shuddering at the moan Itachi didn't quite contain. Itachi's legs immediately lifted themselves up, knees pressing into Kisame's sides, and one hand slipped down to his cock, tugging on it. Kisame paused an aggravatingly long moment to pull Itachi's hair out from under him and splay it on the bedsheets, so he could look at the beautiful mess in such perfect contrast with the white sheets and his pale skin, now flushed and sweaty.
"Have I mentioned how fucking unbelievably gorgeous you are?"
"Kisame," Itachi mumbled breathily, "don't stop now."
Kisame shifted on top of him, always one to please. "Who said anything about stopping?" he grunted. He snapped his hips forward with precision, and Itachi's whole body stiffened as his throat released something of a whine. He let his hands run across Kisame's broad shoulders above him, feeling his muscles rippling from the exertion. When Kisame hit that special spot, his back arched and his fingers turned into claws. Little noises escaped from his lips, breathy and caught in his throat. He wanted Kisame to be the one touching him, fingers wrapped around his cock like he had imagined more times than he was willing to admit to himself. But Kisame's hands were occupied with gripping onto him and bracing himself on the bed. Itachi had to make do with his own hand.
Kisame grunted and groaned, head grinding into a pillow as he felt Itachi's hand moving hurriedly, knuckles brushing against his stomach.
"Itachi, Itachi," Kisame moaned.
"I'm gonna," Itachi breathed, "I can't…last—a lot longer." His words were breaking apart, stuck in his throat and tumbling out of his mouth. Kisame's thrusts rocked his whole body, bed creaking beneath him as he pushed in and out. His fingers were like talons on Kisame's skin. "Fuck, Kisame," he groaned. His breath was ragged and he was about to burst—
Kisame pushed his arms under Itachi's back, finding his lips and thrusting with a maddening precision and force, feeling Itachi twist and squirm in his arms, little gasps and moans slipping through the cracks of their kisses. Itachi stiffened, holding onto Kisame as tight as possible, and then he came, a surge of pleasure absolutely taking over him or a moment. He couldn't think, or control his movements and he rode out one of the most intense sensations he thought he had ever experienced. He fluttered down from his high, Kisame holding him as close as possible, still feeling Kisame fuck him, the movement registering in the back of his mind. After a few moments Kisame let out a gasp and squeezed him so tightly he thought he would break. It was an eternity but then Kisame's strong, dark arms gave, and he collapsed.
Itachi stared hazily up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to breathe again. Kisame caught his own breath for a moment, unwilling to put any space between him and his lover. Eventually, he rolled off of him so Itachi wasn't crushed. He reached his hand out to tangle their fingers together. After a couple minutes Itachi shifted beside him, rolling over and pulling a blanket over himself.
"Oh, come on," Kisame said gruffly, shifting closer to him. "I don't get to look at that incredible body for a little longer?"
Itachi made a groaning sound, nuzzling against Kisame's shoulder, pressing against him. He curled his spare hand around Kisame's arm. "There will be plenty of opportunities in the future," he assured.
"That better be a promise." Kisame grinned. "Did I fuck your brains out?" He asked, a smile in his breathy voice. He tightened his fingers around Itachi's.
Itachi sighed, delivering small little kisses to Kisame's skin. "Yes, dear." His tone was nearly placating.
After a few short moments of settling into the moment, Kisame reluctantly got out of bed and moved to the bathroom to get a clean rag. He returned to a disheveled, glaring Itachi, who didn't seem to appreciate being left alone after sex for any amount of time. Kisame chuckled, crawling over him and gently pushing his legs apart—something he enjoyed far too much, he considered. He pushed the rag between Itachi's cheeks and then up the inside of his legs. Folding the rag in half, he cleaned up Itachi's stomach, too.
He got up to put the rag back in the bathroom sink, but before he had both feet on the ground Itachi caught his wrist, glaring. Kisame grinned, tossing the rag carelessly across the room and crawling back into bed. He got Itachi under the sheets and kissed the top of his hair.
Itachi let out a noise something like a moan, trying to push himself back into Kisame's hold. He gladly opened his arms, tucking Itachi against his chest. Itachi curled into his side, skin still warm and soft. Itachi's hand slid across Kisame's stomach, fingers tracing little patterns across dark skin absently.
Kisame stared up at the ceiling, feeling Itachi's soft, slow breaths against his skin. "Babe?" he asked.
"Mm?"
"I…really fuckin' like you."
Itachi cracked an eye. "Just like? After all that?"
Kisame stared down at him. "Maybe not."
Itachi hummed, nuzzling Kisame's warm skin.
"I love you," Kisame said, voice rough on the edges.
Itachi paused for moment, eyelashes brushing the skin of Kisame's chest as he slowly blinked. He let a smile tilt his lips just a little. "Good."
Kisame was quiet for several seconds. "No?" he asked.
"Hmm?"
"You don't love me back?" He pressed his lips together. "Mm." Itachi could feel him deflate, though the grip around him tightened.
Itachi pushed himself up on one arm, hand sliding up Kisame's chest until it reached his face, tilting it so he could press their lips together. "Of course I love you too, Kisame," he whispered, noses bumping, lips brushing. "I thought that was implicit."
Kisame smiled then, not his normal shark like grin, but a true, honest smile. He rolled over, tucking Itachi against him, tangling their legs. "Stay the night," he ordered, but there was a hint of asking there, like always.
Itachi nodded in agreement, head tucked into Kisame's neck, feeling the soreness of his muscles pulse a sleepy wave throughout his body. He was tired, and sated, and warm, and loved. And that was a very good mix of feelings to fall asleep to.