Part 4:

Sleeping was the last thing on Itachi's mind.

How could he sleep when the love of his life was nestled right next to him in bed?

Immense warmth filled Itachi's chest, the kind that he felt from skin-to-skin contact and from the feeling of being whole. Simply an arm's length away, Sasuke snoozed quietly without a care in the world, wrapped up in the blanket that they shared for the night. He looked like an absolute angel who had descended down from heaven.

His Otouto slept so contently, snuggled up in his little spot on the other side of the bed. His body was curled up in Itachi's direction, favoring his left side. It gave Itachi the perfect view of his features. He took his time to etch the details of Sasuke's features into his brain, drinking in the sight of him like a dehydrated man who had been wandering the Sahara for a week.

While the boy slept, a slight tinge of pink blossomed on the apples of his cheeks. His long lashes brushed against his cheeks, and they were so long that they created shadows on his face. Slow, calming breaths escaped from his nose, and that drew Itachi's attention to the boy's lips. They looked as soft as rose petals, possessing a shade of pink that reminded him of a narcissus flower.

As if he was cradling himself while he slept, Sasuke's hands were curled up against his chest and his knees were slightly bent, reminiscent of a lowkey fetal position. The only difference was that he appeared relaxed in his sleep and his position reminded Itachi of how he used to curl up next to him in bed.

Itachi bit his lip when the memories hit him, but his eyes never strayed from the slumbering boy. They had laid down a half hour ago, and his Otouto had fallen asleep almost instantly after wishing Itachi a goodnight, but that was half an hour that Itachi obsessed over every detail of Sasuke's features.

How could he sleep so easily with Itachi next to him?

Didn't Itachi's presence make him nervous? Wasn't another stranger's body in his bed off-putting? How could his Otouto let someone he'd only known for two weeks into his home so easily and allow him into his bed without a single complaint?

Itachi shifted, a frown marring his handsome features, and he reached out his fingers to stroke them gently along the boy's soft cheek. "Don't let random men into your home, Sasuke," he whispered, as if speaking those words to his Otouto in his sleep would somehow impact his conscious actions. His voice hardened slightly when his next words were delivered. "Don't let any man into your bed. You hear me?"

The more he thought about it, the more agitated he became. Here Itachi was, in nothing but a pair of sweats, tucked underneath the same blanket his Otouto was using. Aside from the muttering about how cold it would be and how he wanted Itachi to wear the t-shirt he lent him prior to bed, Sasuke allowed him to climb into his bed without another fuss. He allowed Itachi to sleep next to him bare-chested. Half-naked.

He couldn't help but attribute Sasuke's decisions with possible happenstances in the boy's past, ones that he did not know about because they had been separated for such a long time. The mere thought made Itachi growl. It came out louder than he anticipated. Simultaneously, he withdrew his hand when Sasuke's brows wrinkled and he groaned quietly in his sleep, shuffling slightly until he had wriggled closer to the source of warmth he found. He finally stopped moving when his fingers were curled against Itachi's chest.

Itachi's heart hammered in his chest at the sudden movement, and he swallowed hard, acting like a teenager with his first crush. When he looked down, he could see a mop of messy raven spikes and feel the light puffs of breaths against his torso. His heart clenched, mimicking a heart attack, as he reached out to drape a careful arm around his Otouto's waist and crushed their bodies closer together.

Itachi dug his face into the boy's spikes and nuzzled gently so he wouldn't wake Sasuke up. A wave of calm hit him, blanketing his entire being like a protective shield. "I've missed you so much," he croaked in a whisper, the pain in the words enough to carry over three lifetimes. "Don't ever leave me again."

He refused to sleep that night. Instead, he wanted to savor the waking moments he had that he was able to hold his Otouto in his arms, share his warmth, and listen to his steady breathing and heartbeat against his own. Itachi wanted to cry when he realized how long it had been since he had the privilege to feel so complete.

However, he must have surrendered to sleep at some point in time before sunrise, because, when he came to, he found jolting upward in an empty bed. Immediately, the onset of flu-like symptoms bombarded his system, forcing a massive shutdown. Cold beads of sweat appeared out of nowhere, dribbling down the sides of his face and down his chest and back. His heart thudded painfully against his ribcage and his breathing came out ragged at best. Itachi didn't have to look to know that his face was ashen in color and his eyes had glazed over in panic.

Where was he?

Was this another one of his nightmares?

No. Not again. Absolutely not. Please… no.

He couldn't bear to do this again. He couldn't force himself to stand up in bed and search again. He couldn't bear to see the empty closets and the single pair of shoes at the entryway. No. He refused to put himself through that again. He knew this feeling of wholeness only came to him in dreams. How could the gods allow him to be happy in this lifetime after how he treated his beloved in their last lifetime?

Itachi gritted his teeth, unaware that he had released a high-pitched wail until footsteps thudded against the floor and the bedroom door swung open, startling him. His body jerked, and his head shot up from his knees, which he had pulled up to his chest. His back, which had withdrawn and was pressed flat against the headboard, straightened at the same time his arms tightened around his knees.

"S-Sasuke?" he rasped, eyes wild and unhinged as if he was questioning his sanity, questioning if what he was seeing was a hallucination. "A-Are you… Are you really here?"

Still wearing his large T-shirt, the boy approached him quickly as if the crazed glint in Itachi's eyes, coupled with his insane scream, did nothing to phase him. In fact, he looked concerned. "What's wrong, Itachi? Why are you yelling? Are you okay?" the boy questioned in slight panic, reaching the bedside before Itachi knew it.

Cold sweat continued to pour down his torso and back as if someone was physically pouring droplets down his body. Itachi pinched his eyes shut briefly as he attempted to gather his thoughts before he peered into those sparkling onyx eyes, so similar yet different from his own. "Are… A-Are you real? Where did you go?" he croaked, sounding like a small child.

The ridiculousness of the situation should have deterred him from asking such stupid questions, but when it came to his Otouto, all the things that Itachi did and said were stupid. And, as always, once he started, he didn't know how to stop it.

"Where did you go?" The words, which could have easily reflected blame, were uttered in so much sadness that it didn't take a genius to understand how tormented he felt when he had said them. "You weren't here. Where did you go?" He couldn't stop asking the same question repeatedly, each repeat doused with more misery than the last.

He must have looked and sounded like a pitiful lost child because his Otouto was looking at him with the biggest frown he'd seen him wear in this lifetime.

"Were you having a bad dream?" Sasuke asked, pressing a palm against Itachi's forehead. His frown grew. "You don't have a fever, but you feel clammy."

But when the boy's hand slid off his forehead, Itachi's hand darted out to chase after it. He managed to latch onto the boy's fingers before he used both hands to hoard Sasuke's hand close to his chest. His grip was tight, he realized, but he could not control the motor dexterity as his body continued to tremble.

"Where did you go?" Itachi said again, refusing to let that go. He peered into Sasuke's eyes, expectant.

"You just can't get enough of me, huh?" Sasuke jokingly mumbled with a small smile, allowing Itachi to grasp onto him. "I was changing in the bathroom and then I was going to make breakfast. I was actually halfway through undressing."

Itachi was suddenly struck with a shy Sasuke, who awkwardly tugged the large shirt down to his thighs. He swallowed hard, attempting to find his voice, as his gaze remained rooted on the lean legs that no longer housed the shorts, which the boy wore to bed last night.

"I… I just wanted to know where you were," he whispered, looking away. "I'm sorry."

Itachi suddenly felt something heavy on his head, prompting him to look up. It was his Otouto's hand. The boy was patting his head. Itachi's heart squeezed once more in his chest.

"Do you need a hug?" Sasuke asked him with a small smile.

Itachi nodded vehemently, swallowing the thickness in his throat, and finally released the hand he had insistently pressed against his chest. Instead, he outstretched both arms in Sasuke's direction, flexing his fingers, unaware that he looked like a toddler who was asking for an adult to pick him up.

He heard the boy huff an amused breath, but he did not care. As soon as his Otouto wrapped his arms around his neck, Itachi leaned forward and dragged the boy into bed with him so that his body draped over his lap.

Sasuke yelped and scrambled to push himself up, but by then Itachi had already seen his pale rump, naked as the day he was born. He was completely unremorseful, coaxing the boy to straddle his lap like he did the previous night, so that any barrier between them was completely annihilated.

When he was satisfied, Itachi pressed himself as close as he could to his Otouto, nuzzling him. He could feel the boy heat up in his embrace, the streak of a red blush exploding on his face and traveling down the column of his neck. Even though he had cupped Itachi's shoulders, Sasuke squirmed in his lap, showing signs of his discomfort and utter embarrassment.

"I-Itachi," Sasuke shrieked, flustered. "I… I don't- I don't think this is appropri-"

The man held onto the boy even tighter, pinching his eyes shut in denial. He even went as far as interrupting the boy as his brain spiraled. His speech reflected his state of mind: choppy, convoluted, and anxious. "Just… give me a m-minute. Please just give me a minute," Itachi pleaded.

H.J.

The distress in the man's voice had been alarming for Sasuke, because he found himself settling down in Itachi's lap despite his unbelievably red face. He returned Itachi's hug like the role a mother performed when her baby was crying, the self-consciousness of being nude below his large shirt momentarily put on hold. What he found surprising was that Itachi held onto him for dear life and did not care at all that their positions and state of undress were completely inappropriate.

"It's okay," Sasuke cooed, rubbing circles along his upper back. The muscles contorted underneath his touch and then eased up, showcasing the intricate designs the boy had caught a glimpse of last night. Among the pictorial patterns, the first thing he set his eyes on was kanji dancing along the center of a circular object, which was reminiscent of a wedding band. That band was entwined with another one, which was engraved with the same wording in dark ink.

Watashi no Ai. It read.

His perusal was cut short when Itachi's voice echoed between the two of them.

"I'm sorry for yelling. I didn't mean to," the man whispered, still unwilling to let go.

Sasuke wondered if this behavior was very common with Itachi. These panic attacks happened almost too frequently for them to be normal. Over the course of two weeks, since the very first moment Itachi asked for a hug to support his panic attacks, he had one at least every other day. Occasionally, he would even have two on the same day.

Sasuke frowned, soothing a palm down the man's back. "It's okay. You want to tell me what's going on? Did you have a nightmare?"

"I- I…"

Sasuke pulled back to look at the man, his movements forcing the man to loosen his grip. "It's okay. You can tell me." The boy gave an encouraging smile.

"I… woke up alone," Itachi croaked. "I didn't know where you were. I thought I scared you away…."

Sasuke tilted his head. "I know those rumors say you're mean and scary, but you're neither of those things to me, so how could you possibly scare me away?"

"I- I did b-bad things to you," Itachi whispered, looking away, a manifestation of his guilt.

Sasuke grew confused. "Bad things? What kind of bad things?"

"I… I don't want to tell you."

The boy remained silent for a moment, taking in the predicament. "Maybe you had a nightmare. You've never done anything bad to me, so don't worry."

Itachi nearly whimpered. His whole life was a nightmare.

"But 'Tachi, there is something I need to talk to you about," Sasuke began, making eye contact with the man. "I noticed that these symptoms you have are reminiscent of an anxiety attack. They are, right?"

Itachi looked ashamed.

"It's okay. I would never judge you. I just need to ask since I'm with you in all of this: is there something I'm doing that's triggering you? I haven't heard about you getting them elsewhere, and it seems like the only time you get them is when you're hanging out with me."

Sasuke paused when the man began shaking his head vehemently, his arms nearly snapping his waist in half. The boy frowned, reaching down to pat one of the hands around him.

"Are you sure? I can stop whatever it is that I'm doing that's causing you to be so anxious. Or I can go back to my old IT position. Maybe some space would help with the panic attacks."

"NO!" Itachi suddenly yelled, his voice so loud it echoed off the walls in the bedroom and bounced off of Sasuke's eardrums.

The boy winced. Their proximity and unpredictability of the outlash had caught him off guard.

Itachi seemed to immediately shrink into himself, the pure look of rage sliding off of his face in favor of panic and guilt.

"I"m sorry," he then said in a hushed tone, looking away as if he was silently berating himself.

Sasuke blinked once. Twice. He blinked until the shock wore off and understanding set in. He cleared his throat and sat a little straighter, his bare inner thighs pressing against the man's outer quads.

"You seem very fond of me," he said, his words drawing Itachi's attention. "Is it because I helped you on that first day? Or do I remind you of someone? I can't seem to explain how well you treat me otherwise."

Itachi bit the inside of his cheek, a slight dust of pink growing on his face. "I… I am very fond of you," he muttered, sounding oddly indignant, as if to challenge Sasuke in a way that said, 'So? What are you going to do about it?'

Sasuke laughed outright. The man before him was clearly a walking attraction, large and well-built and incredibly handsome, yet he seemed to always omit an air of childish immaturity.

"So you really are attached to me," he confirmed, a somewhat cheeky glint in his eyes. Sasuke couldn't tell if he was gloating or feeling fuzzy inside. For someone to be so attached to him that they freaked out when he was gone, that was a first for him.

"Yes," Itachi replied, irritation mixed into his growl as if he thought Sasuke didn't believe him. He seemed to have calmed down from his initial attack, color returning to his face.

"Weeell, I certainly feel special," Sasuke said, a large grin on his face.

"I don't sleep in just anyone else's bed," he said grumpily. "I don't sleep in anyone's bed. Period."

"Really?" Sasuke piped up. "Now I feel extra special then." The grin would not stop growing on his face, stretching his lips and cheeks to a degree that it began to hurt.

All of a sudden, the boy was easily picked up and tackled backward onto the bed, a yelp escaping his lips as his head thudded against the soft mattress. Itachi's hands were on him then, fingers roaming along his sides and abdomen with rigor.

Sasuke couldn't help the laughter that exploded from him, his giggles penetrating the room that early morning as his hands gripped at Itachi's wrists in an attempt to stop him in his tracks.

"S-Stop! Stop! I'm t-ticklish!" he screeched, laughing so hard that his stomach began hurting.

"Brat!" Itachi growled above him, his fingers dancing underneath Sasuke's large shirt with no resistance. His eyes flared wildly before they crinkled and his lips began to twitch in amusement.

Tears began to gather in Sasuke's eyes and his laughs began to die down, not because Itachi had stopped but because he had exhausted his vocal cords.

"Apologize for teasing me," Itachi demanded, although there was a lilt to his voice and humor in his eyes.

"Ah! Okay. Okay! Sorry! I'm sorry!" Sasuke called out. "I beg you to go easy on me!" he shrieked.

Finally, Itachi's hands retracted from underneath Sasuke's shirt, and Sasuke was left panting while he stared up at the man hovering over him.

"You're so mean," he whined when he regained his breath, sticking his tongue out. When he saw Itachi lift his hand again in warning, his eyes widened into saucers and he let out a little squeak. "I'm kidding. I'm kidding! You're not mean! Never!"

In that moment, Sasuke was privy to a very rare, captivating smile. He froze and he found himself attempting to log it into memory before it disappeared.

As they both laid there in bed, breaths intermingling, Sasuke was suddenly aware that his t-shirt was hiked up over his abdomen and any privacy he had over his lower body parts had dissolved into thin air.

With this realization, though, was the fact that he couldn't move his hand to pull it down over his groin because, in the process of subduing him to tickle him, Itachi had held his wrists tightly into a single grip and had secured them against the bed.

His eyes flickered down below just for double confirmation and, when he looked back up, he caught an odd look in Itachi's eyes. It was so foreign that he could not tell what the man was thinking.

If Sasuke were to put it in words, it appeared as though Itachi was squirming in his own skin and fighting an internal battle. But that would make sense because the position that they were in definitely insinuated other things. Things that were definitely beyond PG-13. However, if this was the case, his boss would have moved away from him instantly. Instead, he felt the grip around his wrists tighten slightly and a sudden warm palm on his hip.

Sasuke's eyes flared wide open and a gasp escaped his lips. The hand on his hip remained immobile for what felt like forever but must have been a few seconds at most, before Sasuke felt pressure traveling up his oblique. A low, throaty moan vibrated in his throat, one that was unintentional and conveyed images that were definitely impure, before he bit his lip to keep his mouth shut.

With another glance at Itachi's face, Sasuke nearly choked on his own spit when his eyes settled on the glazed over look in the man's eyes. Eyes that stared at him like they wanted to devour him.

Fingers were suddenly dusting over his right nub, sliding the little bundle between the crevice of two fingers and lightly pinching, and Sasuke felt himself arch into the touch, back leaving the mattress and causing the bed to creak, before he caught himself and jolted to a halt.

Much to Sasuke's horror, he felt a twitch down below. He nearly died of embarrassment, looking away from the heated gaze he was receiving, before he heard shuffling and the feeling of cloth covering his nether regions.

Next thing the boy knew, the body weight above him was gone, and Itachi was walking rapidly toward the bathroom.

"Let's get ready for work or we'll be late," were the jumbled words tossed at him as the man shuffled into the bathroom and shut the door, leaving Sasuke flat against the bed with a half-massed erection

"Okay…" he whispered, still stunned.

H.J.

Sasuke looked so vulnerable underneath him. So utterly beautiful and blissfully radiant like an angel from Heaven. Itachi was compelled to touch him. He didn't even have the strength not to when he skimmed his hand up his beloved's torso.

His body was so soft and luscious. Just the feel of it, the thought of it, the sight of it, made his head swim and mouth water. He nearly threw caution to the wind and bent down to take that hardened nipple into his mouth, but he didn't want to scare his Otouto.

He had made a fool of himself the first time he made love to his Otouto and if he fucked it up this time, too, he wouldn't be able to live it down. This time around, Sasuke had no reason to stay with Itachi. They weren't related by blood, he was simply an employee, and he could get up and leave his apartment in the middle of the night and he wouldn't know because they didn't live together. There was nothing tying them together, and just the mere thought was excruciating.

He needed the boy to live with him so he could keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't go anywhere. That way, he'd also be able to see Sasuke first thing in the morning and last when he retired to bed at the end of the day. He wanted to spend all of his time with Otouto, so much that all he had done in his office since Sasuke appeared in his life was recall memories of their past life together.

There were so many memories to remember: some miserable, some terrible, but the majority was filled with love and tooth-rotting sweetness. He would sit down in his office chair, feel the boy's presence outside his door, and he would long for him so much that he grasped at straws through his daydreams.

It was pitiful.

Sasuke said the whole attached thing as if it was a joke or brushing it off. But in reality it was on the far opposite end of the spectrum of a joke because this attachment that he was talking about was actually a deepset need. He needed his attention. He needed his love. He needed his company. Itachi would take any and everything that his Otouto could offer like a beggar looking for scraps.

When he slammed the bathroom door behind him and locked it, his back leaned against it as a harsh pant left his lips. When Itachi looked down at himself, he could see himself twitching in the sweats he had borrowed from Sasuke. A very noticeable dark circular stain the size of his thumb was evident at the center of them.

Itachi tilted his head back against the door, eyes sliding shut, and he shoved the sweats down his thighs hurriedly, leaving them to bunch up around his ankles. Instantly, his palm was wrapped around his erection, the heat penetrating his touch was so intense that it felt like he had a heater down below.

Biting his lip, he brought his palm up and down the length, the girth making it slightly difficult to jerk himself off. Yet, the sensations that ran along his spine and the pleasure radiating along his groin made him gasp aloud. No matter how much he tried to hold it in, he couldn't hide how turned on he was.

Sasuke had been laying there beneath him. He had been looking only at Itachi. His naked thighs were splayed open so willingly, the cream-colored softness drawing his gaze like a moth to a flame. He had tried so hard not to stare too much, but it was impossible when his Otouto was heaving underneath him and staring at him so wantonly.

His need was so great and his erection was so heavy and wet in his palm that he had difficulty reigning in the sounds he made. Gritting his teeth was a poor substitution for stifling his groans, but that was the best he could do in that given moment. He had always been a loud one in bed, never giving a damn about how vocal and desperate he became when entangling in the sheets.

Not only did he not mind it, but he preferred the way he was. He enjoyed voicing how good his Otouto made him feel. He enjoyed telling the boy how beautiful his small form was huddled underneath Itachi's imposing one. He enjoyed describing what he was doing to Sasuke, or better yet, what Sasuke was doing to him. He enjoyed growling in unhinged lust as the boy's screams painted the room when Itachi shoved his large, fat cock into his tiny little hole until it turned so sloppy and wet, it might as well have turned into a pussy.

Itachi shuddered, his hand quickening along his length. As he pumped his weeping erection in his hand, he occasionally smeared his thumb quite aggressively along the dripping head, the collective precum used as a lubricating agent for his little session.

He wanted Sasuke in front of him. He wanted the boy to bend over the bathroom counter for him and spread his legs just like he did all those years ago. He wanted Sasuke to look at him. He wanted him so much he didn't know what to do with himself.

Itachi was so lost in his thoughts that, when he came, he neglected to cover, and his cum ended up spraying all over the bathroom tiled floors. He muffled a growl over his raging thoughts as his lashes fluttered while they gazed at the pearly white liquid shooting out from his tip.

God, he wanted all of that inside his Otouto.

The drive to work was quiet and not exactly the good kind. A somewhat awkward silence stretched between them, and the boy could not stop squirming in his seat next to Itachi. He must have thought Itachi did not notice, but it was so evident that it was cute. But what made it irritating was that his Otouto was ignoring his presence. The boy acted like he wasn't even there, as if the car was driving itself.

"Sasuke," Itachi called. The boy instantly jumped in his seat as if Itachi was holding a knife to his throat. This made the man scowl. "Why are you so jumpy?" He seriously did attempt to pass off the question in a light-hearted way, but it came out like gravel, causing both of them to wince.

"What do you mean?" the boy asked, still staring out the window as the car stopped at a red light, not giving Itachi the time of day.

In the enclosed space, Itachi's growl echoed clearly in both of their ears. Sasuke straightened in his seat and slowly turned to lookin his direction, but this wasn't enough for Itachi. "I'm not going to hurt you, so why are you shoving yourself against the passenger door?"

The boy's gaze flickered to his body, which was, indeed, plastered against the opposite end, and he blinked oddly as if he didn't even realize he was doing it. Slowly, he edged toward the center of the seat. "I… don't know," he mumbled, still unable to meet Itachi's eyes.

Itachi felt a vein pop. "Don't ignore me," he demanded, coming across as a petulant child with spoiled tendencies. Even those words sounded ridiculous to his own ears. "Look at me."

Slowly, those pretty gemstone eyes lifted from its owner's lap and settled on Itachi's face. They made eye contact, and Itachi felt his nerves ease a bit. A car horn blared from behind him, but he took another second longer to stare at his Otouto before he returned his attention to the road and resumed driving.

"Sorry," came a mumble a few moments later. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

A twinge in Itachi's chest made it ache. "There's nothing wrong with you," he stated firmly. "You are perfect."

A huff of laughter had him gliding his eyes over to look at the boy, who was rolling his eyes. Itachi's lips curled slightly and he returned his attention back on the road, making a final turn before entering the parking garage.

"Don't forget you have a 9AM board meeting in the conference room," Sasuke said as they entered the elevator. "I left the paperwork on your desk yesterday."

Itachi nodded. "What would I do without you?" he asked, mischievous undertones in his words. His darker side chimed in: 'You would die.' Itachi ignored it.

Sasuke snorted. That was his response lately, and Itachi did not mind at all, especially if he was making his Otouto laugh. "You'd be perfectly fine without me," he said. "You didn't even need an assistant before me."

"And I will never need another one," Itachi said under his breath.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

He shook his head. "Why don't you head to the conference room to prepare it and stop by my Office when it's ready?"

"Yessir," Sasuke said with a salute, stepping out one floor below the office.

Itachi rode the elevator up and walked past the threshold, lingering at the front desk to admire the decorations that his Otouto had picked out for their place. A large, black canvas painting hung on the wall next to the elevator, its content filled with sakura blossoming, which bloomed in various shades of white and pink. There was another painting on the far, adjacent wall adjacent to the couches in the waiting room, and that one had blue, elegant transparent sechars flowers on it. A vase of vibrant, but fake flowers sat on the coffee table in that room, its transparent vase filled with white pebbles and decorative gems.

Clearly, his Otouto had a theme in mind when he decorated the place.

The tips of his fingers lingered along the marble of Sasuke's desk, trailing over the cutesy green dinosaur plushy that sat next to his nameplate and the small, porcelain bowl of lollipops. A genuine smile bedazzled Itachi's countenance as his hand rested atop the dinosaur's soft head for a split second.

From there, he finally entered his office and sat down in his chair, flipping uninterestedly through a list of agenda items, which mostly included a range of numbers and proposals. A few minutes passed before Itachi looked over at the clock.

Ten minutes till nine, it read.

He frowned. Sasuke had stepped out a quarter past eight, so he should have returned by now, but he was nowhere in sight. The meeting was about to start, also, and the boy never took this long to prepare for a meeting.

Itachi pushed away from his seat so abruptly that his chair hit the back wall with a loud thud, but he paid it no mind. The file, too, was left abandoned on his desk as he pushed open the door to the stairs and descended, hopping downward two at a time. His frown grew deeper by each second.

Finally, when he arrived at the opaque double doors, he could hear some murmurs within and see two silhouettes. His brows furrowed as he gripped onto the handle. Who dared to keep Sasuke from him?

The glass door jerked and made a small sound akin to a refrigerator door closing. What blinded his vision, thereafter, was something that could only be attributed to the Fates. Itachi never managed to take a step inside without the vulgarity of the scene unfolding before his eyes.

Immediate rage, so violent and rabid, flooded Itachi's system in a manner he could only attribute to a combination of possessiveness, frustration, and jealousy, and his mouth opened to unleash all of it.

"You piece of shit. What the fuck are you doing?" Itachi seethed in a tone so utterly cold that it lowered the temperature of the room by twenty degrees.

Both occupants' heads snapped in his direction and froze.