DISCLAIMER: This is not a direct continuation of the previous chapter. This is meant to be an interlude piece. Something that happens within this timeline, when things have settled down and the relationship between Sakura and Itachi has matured a little more. I considered uploading this as its own separate fic, but I thought it made more sense to add it here, since it isn't a standalone one-shot.
A little explanation: It's probably shocking for many of you to see this update now. It's been many years since I last wrote anything. I never stopped loving this story. I never wanted to leave it unfinished. Things changed in my life that made it too difficult for me to continue writing with the quality and timeliness this deserves. I also managed to write myself into a sharp corner than I later realized I didn't know how to resolve in a way that made me happy, without rewriting multiple chapters to one degree or another. I didn't want to half-ass anything, so I just left it alone. I'm still not in a place to pick this up where it left off. I'm uncertain if it will ever be finished. So, for your own peace of mind, assume that it won't be. That way, if you do receive another notification one day, it will be a very nice surprise. Thank you all for your support and encouragement over the years.
What lies ahead: This chapter is a sprinkle of crack and a whole lot of deviousness. I had a blast writing it. I only wish it hadn't taken me so long to finish. It took little bits every evening over a couple weeks, but I finally managed to spit it out. May you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
There was a chill in the steady breeze. Enough to break out the warmer clothes. He didn't anticipate needing them today, though. Fall was in full swing, he would sweat too much with them on. Well, if things went according to plan. The sight in front of him suggested with infuriating accuracy that there was going to be a scrap before they even got to the real fight.
He stood, pretending not to be cold while the crisp skittering of dryleaves tumbled along the ground around him. The handle of his katana jutted up from behind his shoulder. A bag packed with weapons and training supplies hung from the other. The black collar of his shirt fluttered around his neck, and his short hair wisped against the silver plate on his headband.
His face was devoid of emotion. Black eyes staring down the other Uchiha lingering casually in the doorway before him. Taking longer than usual to blink, as if the stern stare would intimidate, or at least guilt, his friend into jumping to action.
The slow, mocking blink Itachi returned in their silent showdown baited him.
It wasn't that serious.
"I am not leaving without you." Shisui insisted. Calm, but steadfast in his decision.
"This is my day off. You asked me…on my next day off… So here I am. You said 1700. It is 1705. We are leaving. Let's go. "
Itachi fought to keep the smirk off his face as he listened. Unused to feeling like the younger brother getting reprimanded, but that was the scene unfolding.
"I didn't change my mind. We're still going." Itachi reassured him. A reassurance that would have worked in the past, but not anymore. He'd been burned once, and if anyone was quick to learn their lessons, it was Shisui. Someone had to be.
"Okay, so let's go. Now." His elder countered immediately. Monotone, but with a gaze that pierced him in its insightful skepticism.
"Go ahead. I'll meet you there. I just need to finish getting dressed."
Yeah, that was the problem. He wasn't completely dressed at five in the afternoon. At this point in their lives, Shisui knew exactly what that meant. Probably. He'd bet a month's earnings on it.
"Noo… I am not doing that. If I do that, I will be sitting there by myself for two hours, waiting for you. Just because your girlfriend paid you an impromptu visit, doesn't mean I'm going to wait for you to finish rolling around in your bed."
Being so blunt wasn't new. They'd known each other their whole lives, and could read each other like the back of their own hands by now. Yet for some reason, Itachi found his candor, coupled with his intense stare, as unexpected as it was amusing. He paused mid-turn, hand on the door that Shisui knew he was going to try to slide shut so he could end the conversation and make his escape.
Like hell he was.
A soft, surprised laugh betrayed Itachi. He considered his determined, self-appointed sentinel from the corner of his eye. Refusing to budge from his intent to retreat into his house, just as his best friend refused to turn and wander down the road.
"It will not be two hours," The response was slightly defensive.
Oh, so he didn't deny she was in there!
"I just need to get ready. It won't be that long."
Turning, he took a glance down the empty hall as the front door slid with a quiet hiss. His long hair framed his face and spilled down his bare back, limp and straight like black silk. Long enough to easily snatch up like a reign, when there was no shirt to grab.
With a soft tug, his head tilted back while the rest of his body moved forward. He froze.
Behind him, Shisui's silhouette loomed. A harsh shadow while the evening sun beamed a veil of gold through the slit in the door behind him. He had moved so fast, so silently, Itachi truly hadn't sensed him.
Swiveling his head slowly to target him with a curious glance over his shoulder, he spied Shisui's free hand pointing to the sky with his index and middle finger. About to cast a jutsu…?
"Shisui…" He murmured in awe, "I know you miss me, but I promise I will be there."
There was a slight twitch, a hint of his eyes narrowing, but he said nothing. He was making fun of him. Giving him a hard time, as they often did with one another. But he knew…he knew… He absolutely knew where this was going. This was like chasing after a tenacious shiba inu that had an unfair head start.
Fine. If he wanted to be a pain, then he would meet him halfway.
"Okay... Go get ready." The hand lowered like a finger-gun, jabbing Itachi lightly between the shoulder blades. His silky reign was released.
"I will wait here."
"Ah–" A noise of protest died in Itachi's throat, watching his friend turn and slide the door open wide enough to step onto the front porch. The bag of supplies was dropped by his foot. His arms crossed his chest, and there he remained. An unmoving sentinel indeed, guarding the door like a right donkey guarding its hay bale.
"Tick tock, Itachi." He responded to the silence, waiting for him to hurry up and do whatever he needed to do.
"Who was that?" A familiar voice carried from deeper within the house. One they both knew quite well now.
"Ah, no one." Itachi called back, casual and unbothered. The front door snapped shut behind him, just as Shisui's wide, indignant glance darted over his shoulder. A scorned exclamation whisked away in the wind.
It wasn't a lie. He wouldn't leave his friend hanging. He also wasn't going to be rushed, either. Sharing some alone time with her was difficult, and he wasn't going to pass up such a perfect opportunity right in front of him.
Shisui could tick tock all he wanted, but he would wait. Maybe not two hours, but longer than it would take for someone to simply 'get ready'. If he thought Itachi was being a pain now, he would be in for the shock of a lifetime when he ventured into his home later. He knew he would… At some point, his impatience would get the better of him, and he would slip through that door to hunt him down. Itachi would be ready for him, and he was accepting of whatever the consequences would be. They would be worth it.
After all, Shisui was partially at fault for this new idea of his. It was only fair he got to participate.
Bare feet padded down the hall, winding their way back to his room. Only to find it empty. Much less inviting than it had been a few minutes ago, when there was a pretty little kunoichi sitting on his bed, wearing one of his favorite yukatas.
"Oh, are we playing hide and seek?" His voice called through the silent home. Making a mental note of the pillow missing from his bed, he crept back out with a knowing smile.
As he expected, there was no answer. Meandering at a sluggish pace, he traced the routes through his home in search of her. They both knew if he really wanted to find her, he could. But where was the fun in that?
Eventually, his path led him to the tea room. Fully expecting her to launch at him like a rabid koala the moment he eased the door open, he was pleasantly surprised when that too was abandoned. The door beyond was pushed aside, revealing the garden. The fluttering leaves of the maple tree danced in the breeze. Slowly painting the manicured landscape in their colorful confetti as they fell.
Without a sound, his head poked past the door frame. Black strands lifted and swirled in the breeze as he surveyed the porch.
Vacant.
This was the last area he searched, which could only mean one thing. She had been stalking his every move.
"Hmm… Sakura, you're getting better at this." She was nowhere in sight, but she heard him.
The temperature was refreshing when he stepped outside. Brisk and clean, and full of autumn's scents. Not a place he'd linger for too long, but it was nice for the moment. His arms eased into the rail before him as he leaned comfortably. It was a view he always enjoyed. A view that housed so many memories. Mostly good ones, but some bad as well.
It was about to gain a rather silly one.
He wasn't trying to eavesdrop on her, but it was impossible not to hear her coming. His ears had been trained too well over the years, and they didn't shut off.
When the slow, cautious steps burst into chase behind him, he turned.
"Found yo-OOF!" The pillow that had been stolen from his bed pelted his face. Not painfully, but harder than either of them anticipated. It quite literally exploded on impact, dispersing hundreds of small downy feathers into the air like the fluffiest bomb known to man.
Itachi flailed over the railing behind him, incapable of stopping the human wrecking ball. Arms instinctively wrapping around his assailant, she tumbled with him in a squeal of alarm that spoke for them both. A whirlwind of panicked limbs and blurred colors crashed to the ground below.
The wind knocked out of both their lungs when she landed on him. It took a second to catch her breath, but when she did, she burst into laughter.
"Oh…Kami! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you that hard!" Bracing her hands on his chest, she sat up and shook some feathers from her short pink hair. When he failed to move, she swiped the deflated pillow off his face, and found a mild grimace below with his eyes squinted shut. A low groan rumbled as he reached a disoriented hand towards his nose.
"...Itachi…? Are you okay? Oh no… I didn't mean t–KYAHH!" She shrieked, squirming like a frantic worm when he grabbed her waist. Tricking her just long enough to doubt herself and feel a tinge of remorse. Then he dove in with a merciless tickle-no-jutsu.
"No! Not that! Anything but thaAAT!"
The desperate howling echoed well above the garden and over the rooftops. Punctuated with the occasional shriek and uncontrollable giggling. Shisui stared blankly ahead. It was impossible not to catch bits and pieces of the unrelenting assault. At first, he pretended not to. Just like he pretended not to still be chilly.
He was doing a very poor job of convincing himself.
A single white feather floated down in front of him. Flitting to it from the boring tumble of leaves he'd been watching, he traced its ambiguous path through the air. Then another fell, and another. They twirled and bobbed about like weightless snowflakes. For a moment, he thought they really were snowflakes.
What in the…?
A slow, deep breath sucked in through his nose. A bid to himself for more patience.
This was not what 'getting ready' entailed.
Sakura was too busy fighting for her next breath to even consider an effective counterattack. Tears streamed down her red face as she wriggled about. Flopping like an exhausted fish once his fingers finally paused, she sprawled over him in defeat.
"You gave me a cramp!" She yelled after sucking some oxygen back into her lungs, feeling her abs burn from how hard he made her laugh. Missing the lazy grin on his face as he looked down at her.
"You gave me one less pillow."
"Hah…I guess that's true." She had one last exhausted giggle, and then gravity shifted. Itachi cradled her against his chest and lept to the porch railing with the practiced fluidity of a cat. The balls of his feet balanced them in a crouch, and then he hopped down onto the floorboards.
Sakura watched the house swallow them in her periphery. Arms linked around his neck and knees around his waist, he carried her through the tea room and down the hall.
"I have to go soon."
"Ohh… How soon?" Another door frame passed by, and they were back in his cozy bedroom again.
"Hm…" Heat bathed her neck as he tilted his head. Burying his face into her and inhaling. The only sounds he heard came from her. The beating of her heart as it returned to a steady rhythm. The sound of her breathing, content and relaxed. Mostly recovered from getting the daylights tickled out of her.
An orange glow filled the dim room from the window. If he had it his way, he'd close the door and hide with her for the rest of the night. Neither of them had that kind of time, but…he would steal just enough.
"Soon."
He didn't have to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes at his cryptic response. There were so many little ways to drive her crazy, and he was sure to remember every last one. Only because her reactions were adorable.
The arms crossing her back disappeared, taking their warmth with them. She didn't budge, though. He would have to peel her off him like a banana skin if he wanted to be free. Or so she intended…
The lightest touch danced along her sides. Just enough unpredictable pressure to send a shiver up her spine, and make her back snap into place like a rigid board. Flinty jade eyes burned into him as she whipped her head back. Their noses almost touched.
"Tickle me again and you won't have any pillows left, Uchiha." The threat whispered against his mouth. Teasing him with a brush of her lips. For a minute, her stern gaze didn't blink, and he thought of Shisui.
He knew she meant it.
"Is that so? How serious…" He mumbled back, matching her volume. Eyebrows lifting in mock alarm while he stared at her in false innocence.
Such an infuriating look on his face. It made her want to kiss him, and she was willing to bet he knew full well the effect it had. She might just beat him with the next pillow for fun, at this point.
As if reading her mind, a quick peck on her lips made her jump. Before she could 'retaliate', he grabbed her by the waist and flung her to the bed. Surprising her with just how easily he liberated himself from her tangle of arms and legs.
Before the bed even ceased jiggling, there was a second pillow launching at him. It was amazing how fast she moved when she really wanted to. This time, it zipped past him when he ducked. The squishy lump skidded over the top of his head, barely missing him, and thumped into the wall.
At least it didn't explode.
It seemed she expected to miss, as he caught her ready to pounce back on him as soon as he lifted his head. Fast, but not fast enough. She wasn't allowed to win this one.
A hand clamped around her wrist, shoving her back down into the bed. He fell over top of her, right into her own waiting hand as she caught him by the throat. Keeping him at arm's length without squeezing. Cheeky…
His free hand dove between the layers of her yukata and splayed over her lower abdomen. Poised like a claw. Ready for round two of tickle-torture, and with much better access than before. All of her muscles tensed as she sucked in a breath and held it.
Standoff initiated.
"Don't…you…dare…" She whispered again. Each word a sharp hiss cutting through the air.
"Or what? You're out of pillows."
Quivering ripples shuddered under his fingertips, and he hadn't even moved them yet. It would be too easy.
Dark eyes softening, his gaze wandered from the halo of wild pink hair down the curve of her jaw, her neck, and to the richly colored fabric covering her chest. He watched the shrill vibrations of her pulse beat beneath the layers.
Eventually, she relaxed in an exhale. Sensing she wouldn't need to fight for her life just yet. The looming fingertips smoothed down against her belly. Planting his hand in a position that at least felt less threatening.
Her wrist was freed, and she watched his hand glide up her outstretched arm and gently lift her from his throat. There was no resistance. Fingers closing around her own, he bent the back of her knuckles forward and kissed them.
Sakura smiled. The rest of her guard melted away instantly.
"Five more minutes?"
His eyes were closed when she asked in a soft voice. The question made him pause. She waited, fully expecting another vague response. Instead, he released her and sank down into the bed at her side. Her eyes followed his movements until a strong arm snaked around her waist and cinched her into him. Turning her at the same time, so her back was snug against his chest.
"I think you can last longer than that." His breath wafted the shell of her ear.
"I thought you had to go soon?" Surprised, she looked back at him over her shoulder. The setting sun lit up his pale complexion, but he wasn't paying attention. Eyes closed once more, the shorter strands of his dark hair wisped over his cheek as his lips traced down the curve of her shoulder.
"Mhm…" The noncommittal noise hummed. Behind her, gentle tugs in the middle of her back signaled the unraveling of her obi. Its hold around her gradually loosened to let the front of her yukata slacken. Lax enough for a hand to invade almost anywhere without trouble, if he wanted.
Her attempt to roll over and face him was denied when a hand latched to her shoulder and pushed her down prone.
There was a steady friction encircling her as it slid, and then the obi was cast over the side of the bed. A streak of color flapping away and coiling down and out of sight. The bed shook when he moved, and she glanced down the length of it to see him settle into a sitting position over her calves.
The fabric inched higher at his guidance. Receding up the crooks of her knees, all the way to the very tops of her thighs. Strands of hair tickled her skin when he leaned down, peppering the back of her legs with light kisses. They were unhurried. Beginning low on each calf and climbing leisurely upward.
Sakura felt her lids sinking lower. Nerves dissolving into the comfort and musky scent of his bed. A firm pressure followed the path of his lips. Palms pushed and kneaded into muscle. Working them into putty.
The lull in his touch was too brief for her to notice. The sound of a drawer opening and closing near her head was a hundred kilometers away. Until the sensation of something cool dribbling over her roused her.
Itachi glanced up when she released a deep sigh. She was limp as a pile of cooked rice noodles already.
Perfect.
The small bottle squeezed again, trickling more mildly scented oil up her thighs, and then he set it aside.
There were no words as he watched her. Just the continued waves of pressure gliding in deep circles and stripes. Massaging her legs weightlessly until she wasn't sure if she could even move them anymore. Jasmine and honeysuckle bloomed all around her. Invisible, but perfuming the air as if she were laying in a field of them. Groans and hums of approval rose from deep in her throat.
His palms drifted down and swiveled to grip around her shins, pulling her legs open. They shifted without effort. Giving him a tantalizing peek of blue panties hiding her from him when he glanced up. There was nothing to see in the waning light and dark colors, but he caught the scent of her arousal even through the veil of flowers.
In the distance, a muffled swish and tap alerted him to the front door. A sound that would have been easily missed, if he hadn't been waiting for it.
Got you.
The caressing followed a steady, disarming pattern up to the rumpled hem of her yukata. His palms smoothed up the slope of her ass. Sliding beneath the blue fabric and pulling it back down with a curl of his fingers as he continued to knead.
Shisui stood in the entryway. Assessing his surroundings, as if expecting boobytraps. Still skeptical, but for a different reason now. His narrowed gaze combed the walls and his ears strained for sounds of movement anywhere within the home. At first, there was nothing. Then a murmuring of voices drew his attention in the direction he already predicted he'd have to go in.
Damn.
He wasn't so naive. Shisui knew what awaited him if he was bold enough to follow the path to Itachi's room. That was alright. He didn't need to go in there to confirm anything. He also didn't need to show his face to crash their party.
After today, Itachi would know better than to play this kind of game with him.
The door shutting would be the last sound heard from him as his steps fell mute. The closer he crept, the more defined the murmurs and moans became. If he was affected, it didn't show. Only concentration pulled at his brows.
"Do you remember the first night you came over for dinner?" Itachi spoke into her thigh, lips tickling over the glossy, fragrant skin when they moved.
She felt him kissing a slow, aimless path between her legs. Following the curves of her inner thighs, without getting too close to where they joined mere inches above his head. The panties slipped down past his mouth, and with a swift tug, flopped forgotten at the foot of the bed.
"Mmm…how could I forget that? I showed up early, because Sasuke…" The reply was both dreamy and satiated with need. Too distracted to even finish her sentence. Her eyes were closed, back beginning to arch and lift her hips.
"You chased after me…" Vibrating lips brushed higher. A thin coat of oil made them slick easily along her skin. She felt his face burry between her legs. Close enough to feel the heat burning from her core, but he left her wanting.
"...into this room…and you begged me to touch you."
The heat dissipated slightly when her legs parted even wider. Begging him yet again, without words. His breath played over the honey pooling in her pink slit. It took more restraint than she knew not to plunge his tongue inside her then.
"Itachi…" A frustrated whimper followed his name as her face turned into the mattress. Thumbs raking firmly up her inner thighs as his palms traced her legs, she gave a muffled squeal. It was the right amount of torment. Much more, and she'd spring to life and turn this into a wrestling match trying to get her way.
Always a fun twist, but he had something far more enticing in mind.
"Sasuke told you, didn't he? That he watched…" More of a statement than a question. Of course, he knew that she knew. This wouldn't be the time he broke the news, if it was still a secret.
Another sob, and a meek 'yes' moaned into the bed. There was a distinct note of embarrassment, but it was nothing compared to the first time it was mentioned by Sasuke himself.
Finally, he touched her. A feathery kiss at the junction of her thighs. His mouth came away sticky, and then he swiped his tongue through her. Pressing firmly over the pulsing clit hidden between her drenched lips, and gliding the length of her slit.
Then he was gone. A fierce tease that left her aching to be filled.
The bed shuddered as he repositioned himself, listening to her whines of protest. The blankets churned around her as she struggled to turn over and get to him.
She was denied a second time.
The sleeves of her yukata were tugged down, freeing a gaping V of her chest and shoulders without completely exposing her. It didn't need to be off, but he did want it looser. The brief struggle ended when his hand reached around and gripped her jaw. Keeping her angled down against the bed as he molded himself over her back. Holding her in a commanding embrace against his chest while her breasts heaved into his arm.
Gentle nips claimed her shoulder and up the side of her neck. The hand cupping her face was firm, refusing to let her wriggle away as his tongue found her earlobe.
"If you had known, would you let him?" The voice in her ear was gruff and tense. She wasn't the only one struggling, but he was maintaining more self-control than she could.
"Wh-…what?"
The yukata reeled up to her waist. His other hand followed the curve of her bare hip, and swept down the swell of her cheeks to sink into her from behind. Letting her swollen cunt swallow two of his fingers to the knuckle. The cry that burst from her made him shudder. If he wasn't careful, he was going to lose his own grip.
"I said, would you let him watch you?"
Shisui was halfway to his room when he heard the exchange. Suddenly, halfway was…too close. The hint of a frown tugged at his mouth. The intensely focused gaze he held creased with the first sign of concern.
Where in the hell was this conversation going?
A minute ago he was stalking towards his prey, planning the perfect ambush. So why did he feel like the insect that just wandered past the teeth of a venus flytrap? Coincidentally, he found himself unable to move his feet. His gut told him to abort the mission, but he held fast. Attention rapt to what was unfolding just beyond the wall.
"S-Sasuke…?" The mortified squeak was all he needed to hear. The answer was a resounding 'no'.
"I… I don't think… Not him! That would be so…so–"
Itachi gave no indication he cared one way or another. The question had merely been foreplay.
Now for the main course. But who was the true guest of honor?
"Then who?"
Sakura's eyes cracked open. The hand on her jaw guided her head to turn and look at him. With a soft whimper, he trapped her lips in his. A slow kiss that tasted and explored, tongue seeping deeper into her mouth with each pass.
"Who would watch you, Sakura?"
"I…I don't know…" Speech as foggy as her mind. She barely registered him crawling over her as she was pulled onto her back. The fingers pumping into her snaked around with him. Leaving a wet trail across her leg before plunging back inside
"I've never…thought about something like–" Cut off by her own gasp, she lifted her hips at the hook of his fingertips. They curled and pulled within her, making her thighs quiver.
"Would it be someone you know?" Her abused mouth grew cool in his sudden absence as he lifted away. He sat back on his heels to watch her. Writhing and grinding against his hand in desperation. The oil that once glistened over her legs was nothing compared to the nectar dripping between them now. He pulled the yukata open, letting her breasts spill out. The coy pearls poking through the fabric had taunted him enough.
"Y-yes… It would have to be…someone I trusted… Someone I felt safe around… You would have to trust them too…?" The direction this was going in had flown past her head. She was vaguely curious why he wanted to know, but her mind couldn't make the right connections. Every fragmented thought he led her to was challenging enough on its own. Too busy chasing her own release.
Just a little further now.
Another shock of pleasure seized her and she moaned. His thumb disappeared between her sopping wet petals, drawing unhurried circles around the swollen button. The gentle rocking of her hips against his hand was left undisturbed, but he was paying close attention to the way her body moved, and the noises she made. Breaking and changing pace whenever she neared the edge, and never letting her fall over.
"Who makes you feel safe?" He murmured softly, sounding so far away.
Confusion knit her brows. A sense of apprehension snagging her subconscious that even she couldn't unravel. As if she had a fleeting thought–an answer–that was immediately garroted to avoid the threat it posed. Killing it before it could manifest into something tangible.
While she was distracted, the top of his pants slid down his hip bones. Low enough to pull himself free. He didn't need to be touched. Just watching her was enough to draw him into an aching, throbbing stiff mess that would become painful if he ignored it much longer.
His hands scooped up the back of her thighs to grip her cheeks and yank her into him. Guiding her at a shallow, upright angle. He held her straddling legs in his arms, and sank into her fully with little warning. Giving her exactly what she'd been waiting for. The sudden pressure thrusting deep into her core made her breath catch in her throat and her eyes roll back.
"Shisui!"
The name burst from her in a feverish cry. Hips rising to meet him with every agonizingly slow pump. His fingers locked into her in an iron grip. Straining to maintain a frustrating pace that left them both unfulfilled. His own breath shuddered through his teeth in a sly smile.
Sakura's eyes snapped open in shock. The realization of what she'd said like a douse of cold water. Panic-stricken, she stared up at Itachi in a wash of shy guilt.. Her hand slapped over her mouth. It seemed her own subconscious betrayed her after all.
"OH… Itachi, I didn't mean–! I don't know where that came from!"
"Shh." The quiet hush silenced her, leaving her doe-eyed in confusion.
"I was hoping you would say that." Instead of the raw shock she expected to see written all over his face, the look he sent her was nothing short of predatory. The kind that made her feel like she was about to be eaten alive.
Sakura couldn't speak. It was as if her brain had tripped a critical malfunction and was forced to reboot. There was nothing but white noise and wonder. For a second, she was positively vacant.
"I'd let him watch." The rhythm changed. His thrusts came quicker, burying into her sweet spot deep inside, and with every hit, his thumb spiraled into her clit. The pleasure swelled, taking over her senses and further choking any chaotic thought that tried to make sense of what he just said.
Sakura craned her head back against the bed, her toes curling and calves flexing over his back as they hooked around him. Desperate to pull him flush against her. He wouldn't let her, not completely. Instead, he leaned over her. His own breath hitching and stuttering in soft pants. Beating in hot puffs over her neck as he kissed up to her mouth.
"Would you like that?" He whispered against her lips, one hand threading through her hair and closing in a grip that pulled her head back taut. Not tight enough to hurt, but it did keep her from moving.
"Letting him hear you scream and beg? Watch you writhe around like an animal in heat? Keep your eyes on me." The carnal antagonizing switched to a command, and she peeked her eyes open. Face flushed and hands alternating between gripping the sheets and him. It was almost too much.
"Itachi…please…" She could barely get the words out. So dizzy with desire she'd say or do anything he wanted, if only she could regain control of her own body.
"He'd love the way you smell…the way you taste…" He collapsed, pinning her to the bed with his weight. Both hands raked up through her hair now. His breath beat against her own and their eyes locked. Every ragged exhale from her came like a small gasp. His gaze was intense, compelling her not to look away.
"Would you let me watch?" The question twisted around, but she no longer cared. No longer formed a coherent thought. Her arms clung to his shoulders as he pounded into her roughly, still hitting the same delicious spot.
"Maybe fuck you against the wall… Watch him spread your legs and make you come?"
And she came. Tumbling wildly over the edge she'd been continuously denied until then. Her walls clamped down around him in a vice, tormenting him with waves of spasms as she wailed and sobbed. His eyes never left her face, enduring with pleasure the nails that hooked into his back and anchored him.
Sakura gasped for air, muscles shaking and growing weaker as her energy sapped away in bliss. The warmth left her. She watched him rise and grip the crooks of her knees to fold her legs up and back. Giving himself a better angle as he fucked her roughly, slamming deep into her core. His seed flooded her in a hot spray as he groaned.
His eyes slipped closed while he hovered upright. Swaying ever so slightly, as if he was ready to crumple into the mattress next to her. He wouldn't fall, though. If he did that now, he wouldn't get back up again, and he had things to do. That's when the faintest thunk caught his ear. Again, something that would have been missed, had he not been waiting for it.
Oh, Shisui… Not so silent and quick now, are you?
"How… How was that…so hot…" Sakura's rhetorical question peeped. Tired and dreamy, like she was sleep-talking. She stared up at the ceiling, lids heavy and mouth slightly parted.
Without opening his eyes, Itachi smiled. The perfect image of serenity, as if he'd just finished being doted on at a spa, rather than fucking her brains out.
"Okay…now I have to go." He murmured, head bobbing into her line of vision just long enough to plant a kiss on her lips. The bed shook one last time as he rolled off it and began assembling himself into something presentable. Fabric hissed and swished around, unknown objects knocked and rattled about as he rummaged for things she didn't bother to turn her head and see.
"I can't move…"
Itachi paused with a handful of kunai he was about to stow into a bag, and glanced sidelong at her. It was true…she hadn't moved an inch since he last touched her.
"Then don't." He answered simply.
Sakura meant to protest, but she found the words too troublesome to form. To her surprise, she didn't need to. Moments later, the disheveled blanket she was partially stretched across folded over her like a taco. Covering her bare breasts spilling out of her yukata and the pool of sweat and nectar between her legs.
With strategic pokes and nudges, he tucked her in, and turned for the door.
"I have to go home." Her head swiveled to watch him pull it open. Just as confused as she was curious. He glanced back with a swish of hair, geared as if he was about to leave for a mission, and with a duffle bag slung over one shoulder.
"You are home." Itachi held her gaze for a moment. The mess of stringy, harassed pink hair poking out of a dark cocoon he wished he could be inside of looked both adorable and comical.
"I'll be back. Just don't open the door." He pointed an index finger to the sky and pressed it against his lips, leaving her with a wink as the door slid past him and shut her in cozy silence.
"...But I'm sticky…" The weak mumble drifted after him when he was halfway down the hall, next to a small table with a picture frame suspiciously knocked on its side. He laughed softly, knowing full well she was on the verge of sleep regardless. So long as she stayed quiet, no one would bother opening his bedroom door. When he was younger, it was a different story, but these days, a closed door was left undisturbed.
Sleep stole her soon after the front door opened and shut. Not so soon that she didn't have time to reflect on the things he said to her, though. Whether he was just toying with some dirty fantasy, or this Shisui business was something he actually meant, she would have to interrogate out of him later.
A gust of cool wind rushed over him the moment he stepped outside. Lashing in warning for a coming storm later in the night. Itachi stretched, arms reaching high above his head with a groan until he felt a couple relieving pops. The languid steps he took down the porch and out into the street were reminiscent of a cat waking from a long nap. He passed the silent statue of a man to his left, staring blankly into space. Pausing a few feet once he realized he wasn't following after him, or saying anything.
Itachi glanced back curiously, watching his friend peer into nothing.
"I'm ready… Are we going?"
The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves blossomed with jasmine, honeysuckle, and something uniquely intimate when a quick shift in the wind turned on him. Shisui's eyes snapped shut, as if it had taken a physical form and assaulted him.
"You smell…like a girl." He responded slowly, with carefully guarded words.
"Oh…?" Itachi lifted the front of his shirt and sniffed, then gave a mild shrug.
Shisui reopened his eyes, fixing him with a stare that briefly threatened his very soul. Then just as quickly, he glanced away again. Weathering a savage internal war between embarrassment and exasperation.
"You know–" His friend began, and then cut short. A hand gestured into the air, finger absently pointing in the direction of an invisible target. Then it dropped against his side. Then it lifted again in a loose fist. Struggling to grasp the intangible. All the while, fully aware of the absolutely maddening look Itachi followed him with. One that was ripe with blissful naivety.
"If you have…a voyeurism kink now…or something… That's fine," The words ground out slowly, with great effort. His own throat tickling and making him cough in between, "I'm not going to judge you. But you can't–"
Another pause. Shisui set his hands on his hips as he mulled in thought. Still focusing his gaze on anything but Itachi.
"You don't just…do that…without… I don't know… Running it by me first?!" Restless, a hand rubbed the back of his neck, and he began to pace in a slow oblong circle without thinking.
Itachi let him finish. Tracing his every awkward move with the calmest, subdued eyes that perfectly masked his true feelings. In truth, his own chest was going to burst if he didn't laugh soon. The tension he fought against in his own silent war was wearing on him. He couldn't remember the last time Shisui visibly struggled this hard. Like him, he was an expert at keeping composure, and that's why seeing him crack a little was so refreshing.
"Do what?" Itachi asked with such simple ignorance that Shisui stiffened.
"Wait… Were you…?" Cocking his head, Itachi narrowed his eyes slightly. Acting as if he was just starting to piece the issue together.
"Were you listening to me? Shisui… I thought you were going to wait outside."
The accusation was benign and playful, and under normal circumstances, would have hardly warranted the look his older friend shot him from the corner of his eye.
"I did wait outside. I waited outside for fifteen minutes, Itachi… You were supposed to get ready."
The duffle bag swayed lightly as he turned. His stance widened and he held his arms out to his sides to put himself on display. Covered in long black sleeves, their green jonin jacket, and black pants with an assortment of hidden weapons.
"I did get ready."
"Ohh, but you did a lot in between getting ready, didn't you?" Shisui snapped quickly in defense. Close to throttling him with his bare hands.
Itachi considered his choice of words for a moment. The hint of a devious smirk peeked at the corner of his mouth. Just long enough to be witnessed, and then it sank away.
"Shisui…" He sighed, casting a thoughtful glance into the wind.
Watching him wander slowly towards him, Shisui waited expectantly. The stern and intense look persistent, drawing his features taut. Itachi thumped a hand down on his shoulder when he was close enough to reach.
"Instead of sneaking into my home and spying on me when I'm with my girlfriend, again–"
Shisui's mouth flew open, ready to launch a defensive rebuttal against his accusation. 'Again'?! The first time wasn't even his idea, and he hadn't been spying then!
"...just join us."
The mouth hung open. Much to his chagrin, whatever choice words he meant to fire at him evaporated so quickly he couldn't even remember what they had been.
Itachi waited patiently for him to speak. Watching the mouth before him slowly inch closed in a distracted afterthought. The pale, once steely face of his best friend flooded a deep shade of pink, most prominent over his cheeks.
It took several seconds, but finally Shisui inhaled sharply through his nose.
The utterly instigating look of amusement beginning to dawn on Itachi's face faltered suddenly when the black eyes in front of him swirled suddenly into a vibrant red, with three tomoes framing his pupils.
He knew his face was turning into a tomato and there was nothing he could do to stop it. As a direct consequence, he could now hear his own pulse thrumming in his ears. That's why he wasn't going to feel an ounce of guilt for what came next.
"I'm about to join you in Tsukuyomi." Shisu whispered as he leaned into his face, holding up his hand in their periphery with his index finger and thumb pinching about a millimeter apart, as if to demonstrate how close he was.
The black eyes staring back were blown wide in genuine shock. Silence fell, with only the crinkling of dead leaves skittering around their feet.
Itachi snapped. The corners of his eyes creased, and a shout of laughter exploded from him. It was strangled by a snort as he tried to reign it back in, but it was too late. He couldn't have stopped if he wanted to.
The laughter quickly morphed into a strangled exclamation as Shisui grappled him. The overly dramatic standoff in the middle of their street careened into tusseling limbs.
"Shis–AAHCK!" Itachi struggled to contain himself between gasps of air. Wrestling to keep at least one arm and leg free at all times in their unexpected wrestling match.
"It's not–OW!" Shisui!" His yelps and half-assed pleading lent him no mercy when he continued to laugh throughout the assault. The ground slammed into his side at one point, but he managed to bounce them both upright again. Refusing to be easily restrained or pinned.
"Hold on a–HNNNGG"
"Hello, boys..." A familiar voice caused them both to freeze. Shisui with his shirt nearly pulled over his head, exposing his back and blinding him. Itachi with his neck trapped in a choke-hold, hairband lost somewhere in a cloud of dust with a waterfall of harassed black strands obscuring his own view.
Shisui managed to glance at the small pair of sandals standing a few feet in front of them, waiting. They lead up to a deep plum dress with arms cradling a couple grocery bags, and a mildly curious gaze assessing their compromised positions.
"Mikoto!" He blurted, red face somehow managing to burn even hotter as he released Itachi like a cat hastily spitting out the pet canary. The shirt yanked back down over his waist, and he bowed sharply forward with his arms rigidly at his sides.
"Good evening." Itachi merely shook his wild hair out of his face and smiled pleasantly at his mother, as though nothing had happened.
"Hmm…" They heard her hum in mysterious judgment. Eyes trailing up and down each of them one at a time.
Shisui never budged. Trapped permanently in his bow of shame. He watched as her feet finally turned and walked calmly around them and up the steps to their home.
"Don't worry, Shisui. I'm sure whatever happened, he deserved it." She called back to them as she nudged the door open.
Itachi whipped around and glanced at her with a startled look, mouth parting as if to object. The door shut again before he could say anything, and he snorted.
Next to him, Shisui rose slowly, piercing him with a knowing look. As if to say, even your own mother knows you're a filthy menace.
Itachi took a cautious step away from him. Ready to defend himself in round two, if he was bold enough to continue where they left off. After a lengthy pause, Shisui merely shook his head and sighed.
"Get your duffle bag and let's go. I hope you're prepared to get your ass kicked." He ordered coolly.
"Oh…I don't think it will be me getting my ass kicked." Itachi responded nonchalantly, swiping the trap of his bag off the ground and slinging it over his shoulder.
As they were about to turn and walk down the door, the front door quietly slid open behind them.
"Itachi… Why are there feathers all over the house?"
They both froze again.
Eyes squinting in wonder, Itachi considered the question for a beat. Then he remembered. Both doors to the tea room must have been left open when he carried Sakura to his room. When his pillow exploded, the wind likely blew them around, and they found their way back inside.
"Uhhh…. Oh! My… I had an issue with my pillow. It… Hold on, I'll clean it up." He laughed lightly, bolting up the porch steps and into the house with a jingling duffle bag bouncing against his side. Mikoto gave him a disapproving look, following him down the hall as he rushed to collect all the little white tufts now infiltrating multiple rooms.
Alone once more. Right back to where he started. Shisui stared long and hard at the waning twilight of the horizon. The bag of supplies slid off his shoulder and thumped to the ground at his side. His arms crossed over his chest.
There he waited. Again.
Whenever they finally did get to the training grounds, he would make sure Itachi paid in full. With interest.