Greetings again! So I'm going to go ahead and say this now that I am deeply and truly apologetic for making you all wait so long for the update. My hand required surgery and physical therapy but, while that is the case, I'm fully convinced I still would have been able to continue with consistent updates if I'd put the effort. I feel horrible for making you all wait. After not writing for so long, I fell out of the usual rhythm of my writing and I just wasn't able to pick it back up. For that, I apologize.

Due to my hurry to get this posted, my proofreading job was likely a bit poor. Hopefully it's still legible.

P.S.- Rosebunse: I finally managed to incorporate your request. Prepare yourself, because this just added a whole new chunk to the plot!

Enjoy!

Previous Chapter

Itachi didn't put up a fight against his brother and Sasuke crushed him beneath his slim body, pounding his fist into Itachi's chest, his eyes bright with anger. "Really, Itachi? Are you so foolish that'd you go after Deidara without considering the consequences?"

Itachi sneered. "Any repercussions would be of little consequence. He hurt you."

"Shut up," Sasuke hissed with just as much fervor. "How do you think the other Akatsuki would react to you killing one of your own? What about the leader?" Sasuke's eyes stung with tears, his mouth forming a grimace, his gaze melancholy. "Ever since mother and father's deaths I've never felt safe before. Please…" Sasuke's eyes begged. "Please, don't take it away from me. Not again."

Itachi seemed choked at his words, shocked into silence. He stared into Sasuke's beautiful, damp eyes and suddenly Itachi's own gaze was growing blurred and hazy. He felt a sob escape his lips and he crushed Sasuke into his chest, barely able to understand the soothing words he whispered into his baby brother's ear.

Maybe he could finally be the brother he was supposed to be.

xXxXxXxXx

"How did you do it?"

Sasuke looked up from his silent position on the bed, his questioning gaze meeting Itachi's. "Do what?"

Itachi swallowed, the heavy bags under his eyes still prominent. "Escape. Did someone find you?"

Sasuke followed the train of thought, nodding. "Yeah, Kakashi found me. Later, the Hokage assigned him as my sensei to remind me that I was safe, that the nightmare was over."

"And did it?"

Sasuke eyed him a moment, then smiled sadly. "Not really. If anything, it reminded me of the look on Kakashi's face when he saw me."

Itachi twitched again, probably imagining how Sasuke must've looked, and the younger boy couldn't remember his brother being in such a vulnerable state before. He once again cursed himself for his capture. If he had just continued to carry the burden, he could've saved Itachi from all this pain.

"I'm sorry," Itachi suddenly said, expression still downcast.

"It's okay."

The man's eyes flared. "It is not."

Sasuke sighed silently, watching his brother's nostrils flare at him. "It's not as bad as it used to be."

"Rape doesn't just go away, little brother." Itachi looked to the floor. His hands were balled in tight fists, had been ever since they'd gotten back to the room. "There's…" Itachi's eyes hardened. "There's still something you haven't told me."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow.

Itachi met his eyes. "Who gave you those scars on your back?" Sasuke's eyes widened noticeably, and Itachi's compulsion for answers was fueled tenfold. He gripped Sasuke's bony wrist, shaking it.

"Itachi…" Sasuke began, gulping absently as he ignored Itachi's ministrations. He looked ahead to the wall in front of them, seemingly in a daze. "This…This is something t-totally different. Something…I…"

After long moments of silence, Itachi finally realized his brother wasn't planning to complete the thought. He shook the wrist harder and snapped out, "Sasuke", a bit harsher than he had anticipated.

But it performed the intended effect as Sasuke jumped, his wide eyes now staring into Itachi's. The look in his eyes, that fear, anger…Itachi shuddered.

"Father."

Itachi blinked, his heart still clenched tight in his chest, still uncomprehending.

Gods, he was so fucking naïve.

"It was Father. He had…" Sasuke shook his head, quickly continuing, "It was my fault, really. I was never like you, the perfect son. I deserved it."

Itachi could feel the slow transformation occurring in his features, Sasuke's expression becoming progressively more frightened as he watched him, but Itachi wasn't able to truly focus on it. He couldn't focus on anything. His mind was whirring and screaming at him, and he couldn't see anything except his own fucking rage. How had he not known? How could his baby brother have been hurting right before his eyes and he didn't even notice?

What kind of brother was he?

Itachi's eyes were blood red as he bared his teeth, the sharp bones crunching together. Sasuke stood his ground, not fleeing the room as he timidly watched his brother's growing anger. He had expected this. Itachi had every right to be angry; after all, Sasuke had tainted their father, made him act out-of-character to teach his youngest a much-needed lesson.

Was his brother really so disgusted?

Sasuke cringed as Itachi let out a small shriek of anger, his fingernails digging into the fleshy part of his palms, blood cascading through his fingers like a waterfall. Itachi was suddenly standing, pacing wildly across the room with a gaze that could most certainly kill. There was another expression, almost indefinable in Sasuke's eyes. Sadness? Was he sad his little brother was hurt?

No. He was sad his father's honor was tainted.

"I can't believe this. How dare he—Fuck." Tears were filling the man's eyes, and he turned promptly toward Sasuke. "Why didn't you ever say anything, Sasuke? You could've told me."

Sasuke put his hands up in a placating manner, feeling nothing but disgrace as his eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry, really. I should have, I realize that now." Gods, how could he do that to his brother? How could he keep something like that from him?

Sasuke shook his head. "But it's okay; I'll make it up to you, I swear." He immediately stood and slid his shirt off as much as he could with his bound hands, letting the thin attire rest in the crook of his elbows. He turned around, his back facing Itachi. "You can do it, too. I deserve it."

Sasuke waited with closed eyes and baited breath for the first strike. He was long overdue on his punishments.

And they had been justified penances. He'd made their father do bad things because he'd done bad things. He'd needed to be disciplined. After his father's death, Sasuke had gradually stopped expecting the punishment—punishment derived from discipline, at least. Deidara was a sick bastard, hurt him and fucked him out of malice and selfish desire, but Father…No, Father did it to teach him a lesson.

Sasuke waited breathlessly and, after several moments of unsettling stillness, he hesitantly opened his eyes, turning to peek at his brother. What was he waiting for?

But the older man was standing there openmouthed and wide-eyed, his feet frozen in place as he stared at Sasuke, his gaze never once leaving his form. It was unnerving, and the boy couldn't hide his apprehension, still waiting.

"Little brother…" Itachi barely whispered, tears trailing down his handsome face. His once raging anger was now entirely nonexistent, replaced with such utter desolation and sadness that it struck a cord deep in Sasuke he hadn't realized existed. It made him want to die, die so he would never see that look on his brother's face again. Itachi's voice sounded coarse, and he barely croaked out, "How truly broken have you become?"

Itachi let out a choked sob, and before Sasuke could respond the older man was crushing his thin body to his own, the strong arms wrapping around him like a safe haven.

Stunned, Sasuke stood there, trembling in the embrace. What was happening? What kind of cruel punishment was this, deceiving Sasuke with soft touches and sympathetic looks so he could be slyly lured into the trap?

But then he cursed himself, so vividly and intensely he surprised even himself with the thoughts. As confusion began to wear off, Sasuke returned the hug as best he could, his head cushioned in the nape of his brother's neck as his restrained arms rested on his chest, fingers splayed.

How stupid was he? He had fallen into his old habits of trying to please his father, irrationally assuming Itachi wanted the same thing. He should've known better than to think Itachi was like him, that he could be such a hideous man.

Sasuke relished in the comfortable embrace, feeling light drops of liquid fall onto his bare shoulder. Sasuke nestled his nose lightly into Itachi's neck, trying to convey something he wasn't really sure he could say aloud. He cared so much for his brother, and what had happened to him with his father…oddly, it didn't seem to matter much anymore. Sasuke wasn't alone like he had been for so long, finally had someone he could rely on and trust.

But he could tell Itachi didn't feel the same surge of blissful realization as he did. Maybe Itachi already had reliable people, friends. Maybe the Akatsuki were all he needed, and Sasuke was just excess baggage.

He closed his eyes tight, the well-known sting of tears reaching his eyes. Gods, who did he think he was? He didn't deserve friends, and he surely didn't deserve his brother.

But Itachi was only hugging him tighter, squeezing him to his chest. "I'm so sorry, Sasuke. I should've known. I should've figured out a way to save you." He squeezed tighter. "It's all my fucking fault."

Sasuke lifted his head from the shoulder and hissed as his anger slowly boiled to the surface. The once comfortable hug now felt claustrophobic and confining, and he pushed at his brother's chest, the man's surprise not going unnoticed.

Itachi at fault? That's what his brother believed? It felt like the most bitter of blasphemies. How dare he.

"You're blaming yourself for this shit, brother? If you want to blame anyone, blame Father. Better yet, blame me," he said, jabbing a thumb in his face. "I'm the one that didn't live up to his expectations."

Itachi hissed out angrily, his eyes burning red, "I would never blame you for something like this. Stop implying you're responsible for our father's failures."

Sasuke said nothing, not bothering to shrug the shirt back onto his shoulders as he turned his back to Itachi, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Sasuke rested his elbows on his knees, his gaze downcast and eyeing the hard floor. He sat quietly for a moment, all previous intensity seemingly gone. "Father always said I didn't care enough about our family, that the clan's success was never in my interest. He thought…" Sasuke shook his head heatedly, lost in a reverie. "He thought I was too interested in my appearance. As if I could…" He sighed loudly, throwing his hands in the air. "As if I could fucking help what I looked like."

Itachi's eyes squinted in ill-concealed rage and bewilderment. "What? He just thought you were flaunting your physical appeal? Surely not."

Sasuke shrugged pitifully, rubbing a hand roughly through his hair. "He'd just tell me to stop acting like a slut, that someone as prestigious as an Uchiha was supposed to be above such disgraces."

Sasuke seemed to sink further into the bed, his shoulders hunched and head down, and Itachi knew this was eating away at his brother. He reigned in his anger and sat beside him, putting a hand to the boy's bare back, careful of the numerous scars.

"Father was a bastard, little brother. You mustn't take anything he said to heart." His eyes lowered. "I wish I had personally learned that sooner."

Sasuke sat silent a moment, then leaned over with a sigh, resting his head on Itachi's shoulder. The man took the weight as his own, wrapping an arm around the slender back and putting his cheek in the boy's dark hair.

After several moments of comfortable silence, Sasuke reached a hand out and played with a strand of Itachi's hair, twirling it around his finger. "Your hair has gotten long," he said absently.

Itachi replied, amused. "Yes, it has, little brother." He allowed himself a small smile. "I remember you'd always used to braid it."

Sasuke barely sniggered under his breath. "I wanted to make you into a pretty princess."

Itachi rolled his eyes, flicking the back of Sasuke's head.

The silence returned, and they stayed in that position for what seemed like hours, both enjoying each other's presence and intricately wrapped up in distant memories.

But soon the haze was shifting, and Sasuke felt Itachi reposition himself, and he absently wondered why. Itachi's actions seemed less from discomfort and more from unease. What could he be thinking about?

"Brother…" Itachi began slowly. "Did…did Mother…" He cleared his throat. "Did, did she know?"

Sasuke stayed silent for a moment, keeping his head on the older man's shoulder, hair intentionally concealing his expression. "Yeah."

Itachi's upper lip quivered in utter repugnance and wrath. "Did…did she ever intervene in you and Father's…affairs?" he asking, spitting out the last word in disgust.

Sasuke shook his head into the shoulder. "No, I-I think she'd always intentionally avoid them. She never seemed to agree with Father, but…" Sasuke shrugged, leaving the sentence partial.

Itachi traced a finger along the pale skin below his brother's neck, the prominent scar sickening and protruding from the thin flesh. "Why didn't medic-nin heal them?"

Sasuke shrugged. "They think Father put a special kind of chakra into it to prevent healing."

The hand on Sasuke's back turned to a clenched fist and Itachi bared his teeth menacingly. "How dare that man. As if he had the fucking right."

Sasuke shrugged again, straightening to hold his own weight. "It's over now; not a big deal."

"Brother," Itachi said with a prominent sneer. "You know better than to say that to me." Itachi clenched his fists tighter. "Goddamn it, it is a big fucking deal."

Sasuke looked at him with sad eyes, finally huffing quietly. "I'm never going to heal if you keep talking like that."

Itachi just stared at him with wide eyes, speechless. "W—What?"

"If we keep talking about this like it's some relentless, overpowering force I'll never overcome, how the hell do we expect me to overcome it?"

Itachi looked hurt, confused. "Sa…Sasuke, we're not discussing it like that, not at all."

"But it's an indirect implication. And it, it…" Sasuke put a hand to his face. "It's making it so much more difficult." His eyes shut tight. "Before, after Kakashi had saved me, I secluded myself from everyone to avoid their sympathy, their pity. I didn't want it, and it was useless to me." He paused momentarily before continuing, his voice level and breathing composed. "I'd been going for a walk to…clear my head, when I heard these two women talking about me, about how…" He sneered, his mouth twisting to an ugly grimace. "How I'd never heal, like I was beyond redemption now that the worst had happened to me."

Sasuke shook his head. "That was almost the end of me. What was the point if you couldn't escape the one nightmare you couldn't bear living with?"

The past is the past, and…" Sasuke took a breath. "It's time to move on."

XxXxXxXxX

Deidara opened the door to the dojo, peeking his head through to admire the surroundings. Satisfied to see Kisame worked on his jutsus, he slipped into the room, letting the door shut loudly.

Kisame turned around to meet the man's gaze, his blue flesh glistening with sweat. "What do you want?" he asked curtly, obviously occupied.

Deidara took a few steps into the room, turning his gaze toward the ceiling as his hands clasped behind his back innocently and nonchalantly. "Ohhh, well, I just had a small inquiry, is all." He met Kisame's eye. "And I potential bargain."

Kisame raised an eyebrow, hints of curiosity leaking through his façade. "Is that so?"

Deidara only smirked.

XxXxXxXx

Sasuke busied himself with chores, trying to keep his patience as he wiped a cloth over the already immaculate wooden dresser.

Where the hell was Itachi?

Sasuke suppressed a growl, instead harshly wiping at one of the drawers on the dresser.

Sasuke eyed the drawer with idle curiosity; he lifted a hand—thank the Gods Itachi was willing to rid him of that damn chakra rope—, and tentatively opened it, unsure. He inhaled sharply, staring at the contents with something akin to awe.

He gulped and, almost worshipfully, grasped the framed photo with both hands, scared shitless he'd accidentally drop it.

It was of him and Itachi, playing in the field just outside the Uchiha compound so many years ago. Sasuke's short, bony arms were wrapped loosely around Itachi's neck as the older man kept a firm grip on the underside of the boy's knees, giving him a piggyback ride. They were both smiling vibrantly, as though they hadn't a care in the world and everything was right and in its place.

Sasuke swallowed loudly, forcing the tears away.

Just then someone banged a fist on the door, and Sasuke hurriedly stashed the photo back into the drawer, securely closing it.

The door opened just as Sasuke had picked up the cloth and resumed cleaning, and he turned his head, seeing Kisame leaning against the doorframe.

"You're coming with me," he said bluntly and without preamble.

Sasuke said nothing, watching him inquisitively. After a hesitant moment, his mind whirring for potential strategies of escape, he slowly nodded. Bound or not, his chakra hadn't fully returned to him, and he still felt uncharacteristically weak. He was still the captive, and there were more Akatsuki to deal with than just the shark.

As Sasuke walked toward the man, Kisame raised an eyebrow. "No bindings?" The older man shook his head, appearing both exasperated and displeased. "That damn Itachi. Always a softie."

Sasuke remained silent. Kisame's hands were folded discreetly behind his back, and Sasuke had the odd, inkling of a suspicion that the man was hiding something there. But what? An interrogation or torture object to get more information from him about Orochimaru?

Sasuke almost huffed. He never would've thought a dead man could be so much trouble.

But as he took more and more steps toward the large man, he was getting more and more concerned, and his instincts were screaming at him to escape, to just get away.

With a sudden instinctual change in plans, he took a running dash toward his only exit, blocked by Kisame, and hurled bodily into the man, hoping to knock him off his feet.

No such thing happened. Instead, the man only heaved against him with his own weight, shoving Sasuke off his feet. He grunted as his back hit the floor, and not a moment later Kisame was sitting on his stomach, bringing his hands from behind his back. He smirked as Sasuke's eyes widened, their gaze stuck on the syringe in the older man's hand.

"Hopefully, this won't hurt too much, but…" Kisame shrugged nonchalantly, still grinning, "I wouldn't really know. And I'm not exactly an expert, you see."

The man plunged the springe into the crook of Sasuke's arm, and the boy inhaled sharply. Already his vision was blurring, his surroundings grey and hazy. Before he understood what was happening his muscles went lax and he lost control of his body. What is happening to me? He thought disjointedly. Oh gods, this is just like before. With…Orochimaru. Everything felt so wrong. His body wasn't listening to him.

Sasuke felt himself being hoisted onto a firm shoulder, Kisame's arm wrapped tightly around his waist. The boy screamed at himself to fight for his freedom, but all he did was hang there, limp. He tried to open his mouth to question Kisame's motive, but his lips remained sealed. He cursed the world all the more.

Kisame's body jolted, and suddenly he was running. Sasuke's body bounced back and forth in sync with the harsh motion as the older man ran out the door and down the long hallway. Sasuke tried to keep up with their location, memorizing each turn and hallway but, soon, his damaged mind gave up, hurting and exhausted. After long moments of the jolting, the older man slowed down considerably, into a jog.
A loud noise resonated, like a slab being pushed away, and suddenly Kisame was at full speed again, running forward. In his peripheral, Sasuke suddenly saw a bright light come from behind him, such a pure clarity he knew only the sun could provide, and he absently wondered how they'd ended up outside.

And why.

Kisame continued the sprint for what felt like centuries to Sasuke. He winced as his body was once again jolted on the large man beneath him. This same grueling, fast-paced rhythm was set for a duration much too long for his liking.

Sasuke cursed vehemently. Why the hell was this happening to him? He must have upset the gods in some way, because he highly doubted the average person got into this much trouble in one lifetime.

After a long period of traveling and what felt like forever, Kisame finally slowed down and, soon after, came to a halt. It was darker here, much darker, and, from Sasuke's inconvenient positioning with his head facing the grass, he could only assume they were in some sort of forest, the trees blocking the view of the sun.

He heard someone in front of Kisame clapping their hands, and the owner spoke victoriously, "Well done, Kisame-san. I knew I could count on you."

Sasuke's mind whirred painfully at the familiar voice. Deidara. Oh gods. Had he brought him here to finish what they'd started?

Kisame responded by putting the boy on the grass, face down. Sasuke's body shivered as he heard footsteps walk toward him, the feet crunching down on crispy leaves until they reached his head, where they stopped. A strong hand was put on his shoulder and Sasuke was flipped carelessly onto his back.

His hazy gaze watched as Deidara knelt directly over him, watching him with a triumphant grin. Sasuke swallowed, or, would have, if he'd had control of his body.

"Are we done here?" Kisame asked impatiently, and Deidara nodded, his gaze never leaving Sasuke.

Sasuke heard leaves rustle as Kisame sprinted back in the direction he came.

Deidara regained his attention, though, opening up his loose shirt and allowing his hand to roam across his chest and stomach. The man's smirk only widened as he continued to play with Sasuke's limp body, resistance impossible.

Deidara leaned in close to Sasuke's ear as his hand wandered lower to the boy's waistband. "See, Sasuke-chan? You belong to me now."

The hand slid beneath the waistband, and Deidara laughed menacingly into Sasuke's face. "You better get used to this, Sasuke-chan." He licked the tip of Sasuke's nose. "This is all you're good for now."

And all Sasuke could do was stare back.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

6 Weeks Later

A thin man exited just as another entered, this one's berth more pronounced as he strode eagerly into the room, his stomach jutting from beneath his shirt. The large man gave a wide, roguish grin as he crawled onto the bed. "This one will have to be quick, gotta pick up my wife from the damn mall." Sasuke was faintly disappointed, realizing he wouldn't be able to make the man stay longer, pay extra.

Twenty minutes later found Sasuke lying sprawled on the bed motionless and out of breath, the crumpled sheets tossed off his body, leaving him bare and exposed. He shivered lightly, the air vent directly above the bed throwing air in his direction, ghosting along his skin.

His current playmate curled awkwardly under the sheets after his climax, panting in lingering ecstasy, and Sasuke wondered how anyone could ever be so modest. Such a concept was foreign to him, so far beyond him he didn't even know it's meaning. He could care less if anyone saw him or touched him. Sometimes he even sought it out, craved to feel and fuck just to satisfy his own desires. With his body, he could make people feel whole again, make them feel happy.

That was his purpose, after all. He was born to pleasure people, had been doing so since the time he'd learned how. Albeit, he didn't know how long he'd been here and he didn't know where he'd been before this.

Was he anywhere before this?

His memories were so blurry, so frustratingly vague that he could be anywhere and doing anything in the numerous scenes that played through his head. He remembered odd cloaks, black with red clouds gracing the material.

…Didn't he?

Maybe I'd made that up, Sasuke's mind supplied, I don't recall ever seeing such a peculiar icon. Even so, the near plain cloaks preoccupied his thoughts, tugged at his brain when he had nothing to do but lay on the soiled sheets, tired and disoriented.

But, at that moment, not even that was important to him. Those cloaks weren't tied to Sasuke at that moment, weren't in the here and now. All that mattered right then was the touch of a meaty hand gripping his shoulder, once again flipping him onto his stomach. The arm wound around his waist, hoisting him onto his hands and knees, ass pushed high into the air.

How many times can one fuck a man before becoming exhausted?

Sasuke's body now deemed more important than the wife, a dick prodded at his entrance once, twice, and Sasuke inhaled sharply as it drove mercilessly into the tight hole. A fast rhythm was set, his body lurching forward in sync with the violent thrusting behind him. He began panting as the grueling pace continued, and soon the older man's thrusts were increasing in vigor, pushing Sasuke further into the bed as he neared his climax.

Shooting his load inside of him, the man finally collapsed with a loud moan, Sasuke's elbows and knees crumbling as he fell flat onto the bed beneath the dead weight. The man was pressed hard against his back, the bare, excess flesh meshing with his own. Both were breathless, gasping for air.

But the older man was chuckling despite being winded, placed a chubby hand on Sasuke's head. "So silky," he murmured, running plump fingers through the thick strands. He continued petting Sasuke before suddenly tightening his grip, yanking his hair back and forcing his head to align with his own. "I gotta say, kid…" he said with a husky voice as his tongue lashed out to stroke Sasuke's cheek. "You're very... knowledgeable in this profession of yours."

Before Sasuke could respond, the man finally pulled out of Sasuke, the loosened entrance now overflowing with the sticky viscosity only cum could conjure.

Sasuke flipped onto his back to face his latest customer, his legs deliberately spread wide and invitingly. He felt as the cum slithered out of his ass and along his inner thighs, and he lifted his legs barely higher off the bed, his entrance just barely peeking out from beneath his body.

The man had still been positioned on top of him, his head above Sasuke's hips, and now he was sweating profusely, staring with wide eyes at the beautiful, lewdly displayed body. He was watching it with such an intensity that Sasuke became nearly convinced the man was going to pay for another round. But if he didn't…

Sasuke spread his legs further apart.

The client turned around and snatched his discarded dress pants off the floor, grabbed his wallet from one of the pockets, and threw it at Deidara, who remained a vigilant spectator in the corner of the room. Not a moment after, the cycle began again, the heady scent of sweat and sex wafting through the room.

Two more rounds and the man was making his way hastily toward the exit, throwing his clothes on his large figure as he informed Deidara he would like to do business with him again soon.

Deidara smirked as the door closed behind the man, turning around to face Sasuke, who lay noticeably exhausted on the filthy sheets, his bangs sticking to his forehead and his entire body damp with perspiration.

Deidara treaded over and crawled onto the bed beside Sasuke. He reached a hand out, pushing the bangs out of the boy's eyes. "I worked you hard today, Sasuke-chan," he said, smiling in amusement and lingering desire as he eyed the vulnerable, panting boy before him. How much the boy had changed during these weeks in his custody. With the drugs Deidara had been slipping Sasuke at consistent intervals, there was no way the boy could ever remember his past, a time when Deidara had been his enemy and he hadn't begun whoring his body out to the highest buyer.

And, as long as Deidara continued the correct doses, the boy would belong to him forever.

Deidara's face formed into a small grimace. Of course, he still had that damn Itachi to worry about. Deidara made sure they stayed off the main roads and traveled only on the outskirts of the villages. There was always a chance that someone would spot them but, statistically speaking, it was more likely to be a mere bystander, one that would forget his figure no sooner than they turned away.

But still, Itachi was a smart bastard and their constantly changing hideouts wasn't likely to throw the man off for long. Deidara needed to find them a more secure hiding place, one he could discreetly bring clients to while remaining unseen by the older Uchiha.

But there was a time and place for everything, and thinking about annoying things while faced with a naked boy just would not do. Deidara slid a finger along the boy's stomach, admiring the impressive muscles rolling beneath his skin. As the hand traveled lower, the man bent down to take Sasuke's lips into his own, licking into the wet mouth and intertwining his tongue with Sasuke's own. They both moaned, and soon the heated intensity was returning as desperation grew. Mere moments later, Deidara was placing Sasuke's legs over his own shoulders, aligning himself with the boy before forcefully propelling himself into Sasuke. Deidara pressed their chests together flush together, keeping a tight grip on Sasuke's bare back.

"Dei-san," Sasuke moaned, his head arched back in what Deidara thought was pleasure. A faint whimper escaped the boy's mouth as Deidara scratched at the scars beneath his palms, but he paid no heed as he tightened his grip, his fingernails ripping easily through the already abused flesh. Deidara kept up the fast pace, expelling a loud grunt with every thrust.

Deidara soon released his seed with a loud groan, kissing Sasuke hard on the mouth. He bit the boy's bottom lip, causing blood to flow freely from the wound. Deidara shifted his hips, feeling the tight heat encompassing his dick as he relocated himself inside of the boy. Finally, he heaved out, falling onto the bed beside the boy, panting.

Sasuke was panting as well, his face distorted as his breath came in short gasps. Deidara loved how the boy's face was flushed, beautiful and glistening with sweat; it just made Deidara want to fuck him again.

A cell phone rang from somewhere behind him, and Deidara heaved a sigh of irritation, reluctantly standing to grab it off the table. With a gruff "hello" as response, he listened as one of his connections, Joshua, was discussing a potential companion of Itachi's wandering near the forest Deidara had their current hideout. Deidara hummed in discontent as he hung up, gathering his discarded clothes off the floor. "Looks like I have something to attend to. But don't worry, Sasuke-chan, it should only be temporary." He slid a shoe onto his foot, then the other. "When I get back, we can very passionately continue what we started," he said, winking.

A thought occurred to Deidara and he frowned, after a moment abruptly leaving the room. Returning, Sasuke's eyes immediately fell upon the pair of handcuffs he held.

Deidara looked only marginally apologetic as he placed one cuff around Sasuke's thin wrist, tightening the metal until it was fastened painfully around the skin, and the other attached brusquely to the headboard.

With only a quick wave goodbye, Deidara gathered his things and left, a locking sound distinctly heard from behind the door.

Sasuke's body trembled. The sudden, raw ache in his chest was excruciating, unrelenting in its pain as he watched the once occupied space in front of the door; it was empty now, barren of the one person that had ever truly accepted him. He was left alone, abandoned because he hadn't been good enough.

He swallowed down the bile in his throat. He'd done everything he'd been asked of, hadn't he? Never once had he denied Deidara of his body, no matter how tiring or humiliating. Even when he'd been on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion, he'd given in to the older man's desires.

What if Deidara wasn't coming back?

Sasuke's sole purpose in life would be lost forever. After all, wasn't it Deidara that said he was never to leave his side, that his only reason for existing was to follow his commands and frequently ignite sexual pleasure?

Sasuke choked on a sob as he brought his knees to his chest. "Dei-san…," Sasuke whispered to no one, longing for the older man to return. To hold him in his arms and tell him he loved him. To think the one, dependable constant in his life had easily and unworriedly walked out of his life, it was abhorrent and unthinkable. Sasuke wasn't sure of anything anymore.

No longer having the required energy to hold his head up straight, he rested it on his knees, eyes squeezed shut. Maybe if he just found a brief alternative, a momentary escape from his pain, then he'd be able to survive long enough for when Deidara finally came back.

Sasuke threw his hands to his head, groaning loudly. Deidara wasn't coming back, damn it. He was gone, had abandoned him in this god-forsaken hideout shackled to the bed.

As Sasuke's hopeless despair grew, so did his desperation, and soon he began pulling fervently at the chain, both hands frantically gripping the restraint and heaving violently, feeling nothing as the metal gnawed mercilessly at his flesh.

Tears ran unheeded down his cheeks, and a more viscous liquid trickled down his wrists and arms, but Sasuke was far beyond caring. All his focus was on the cuff around his wrist and the mocking ache in his heart that the silence spoke volumes of.

After what felt like a true eternity, he heard loud, thundering footsteps running swiftly toward the door Deidara had escaped from, and Sasuke's heart caught in his throat as he stared at the door in longing, mouth open and eyes wide with hope.

But the man that burst through the door was not Deidara, was not the man he'd been so desperate for. Instead, it was a man clothed fully in black, his long, just as black hair tied in a loose ponytail. He had scars on either side of his face, and his expression was that of such delight and disbelief that Sasuke discreetly scooted back on the mattress.

But as the man continued evaluating him, his expressions changed, of equal passion but of significantly less pleasure. With keen, dark eyes he roamed the boy's body, noting his nakedness, the splattered semen on the mattress, the fresh and old injuries alike, the tight shackle around his wrist—with each thing this man discovered another layer of hatred was shaped. His face contorted into fury, his eyes showing distinct pain and unrelenting anger, his fists clenched tight and his mouth in an ugly sneer.

Sasuke gulped, vaguely aware of the bead of sweat falling down the side of his face.

The black-clothed, black-haired man took long strides toward him, and Sasuke immediately cowered back, instinctively throwing his arms over his head.

The stranger immediately fell back on his heels, seemingly stunned at his response. Sasuke shivered, his entire body shaking in fear. Where was Dei-san?

"Sasuke," the man said as composedly as he could, and Sasuke stared at him with wide eyes. How did he know his name?

The stranger continued, taking the smallest of steps forward, hands held high. "It's okay, Sasuke, you have nothing to fear. You're safe now."

Sasuke said nothing, only watched him with guarded eyes, his skepticism overshadowing his fear. The older man seemed at a loss at this, looked as though he were calculating the odds, trying to decide what should be said. "I speak nothing but the truth, I assure you; you're safe." His voice grew stronger, demonstrating the evidence to back up his words. "We found Deidara, Sasuke, and I swear on my life you'll never have to see him ever again."

Itachi stopped abruptly, noting his brother's abrupt change in temperament. The atmosphere was suddenly thick with tension, so thick it felt suffocating. Sasuke's initial shock quickly transformed to rage, something the man didn't seem to have prepared for.

But soon the rage crumbled into another emotion, less evident but just as intense. It penetrated every defense Itachi had constructed for himself when he'd taken his first step toward this building. Now it was all withered away, leaving him naked and defenseless.

Sasuke's breath was coming in harsh pants now, his eyes wide with something akin to defeat and helpless surrender, and soon the boy was hyperventilating right before Itachi's eyes, tears mingling with the blood dripping from his bottom lip down his chin.

Itachi rushed forward to the bed, barely managing to catch Sasuke's limp body before it hit the headboard.

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So there's that. Once again, I feel absolutely dreadful for the late update. Hope you enjoyed!