Part 5

Sasuke set the plate of pastries at the center of the oblong conference table, humming quietly to himself as he followed that with a glass water pitcher and cylindrical glasses. He placed a copy of the agenda items in front of each seat, and then turned on the electric kettle, which sat on a small coffee table against the far wall.

"All done," he murmured, straightening out. He strolled to the double door, latched onto the handle, and pulled the door open only to slammed face first against a hard surface. "Ow," he groaned, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead.

He felt something snake around his waist, a suit-clad arm to be exact, which prevented him from falling backward from the impact. "What?" he muttered, momentarily confused.

Sasuke's gaze trailed along the arm, following it in an upward trajectory. A lilac dress shirt peeked out underneath a black matte suit jacket. A matching pitch black tie pristinely fixed dead center, held still by a shiny, silver tie clip. It was embellished with a tiny black trigram.

As his gaze traveled further up, Sasuke noticed the long, chocolate brown tresses, which hung elegantly in front of the newcomer's shoulders, looking so incredibly light and bouncy. A few strands brushed against his face, giving him the impression of the texture of silk.

A little wave of nostalgia hit him suddenly and his brows furrowed before he even set his eyes on the individual he bumped into. Finally, he was met face-to-face with the man.

He was tall. In fact, if the man stood next to Itachi, they would probably be comparable in height. Smooth, unblemished skin. Pretty hair. Milky white eyes.

And they were staring right at him, recognition ever so evident brewing within them.

He should have known from the moment he caught sight of the hair and felt a twinge of nostalgia in his chest.

"Neji…" Sasuke breathed, astonishment embellishing his tone. "What are you doing here?" Before he was able to utter any more words, the wind was suddenly knocked out of him when he was pulled into a tight embrace.

"Sasuke. God. It's been forever since I've seen you," Neji, the brunette, said, an extremely pleased lilt to his voice.

The boy was engulfed in the scent of expensive, yet mellow, cologne and linen.

"Let me get a look at you," Neji murmured, cradling Sasuke's arms as he pulled back. His gaze flickered over Sasuke's features, prodding and observing. "You look good," he finally said.

Sasuke rolled his eyes and laughed. "Anything looks good compared to back then," he sarcastically commented, causing the brunette to frown.

"That's not what I meant."

The boy sighed. "Yeah. I know. You look good, too."

Neji hummed good-naturedly. "Are you eating well? Your complexion is well, but your hair is just as messy as back then."

Sasuke was on the receiving end of a hair ruffling to which he attempted to duck away from. Unsuccessfully. The boy crossed his arms and stood there with a pout as the man chuckled and continued to ruffle his raven locks.

"You've always treated me like a child," he said, a definite hmph in his tone.

"Well, I am three years older." Neji grinned.

"Whatever," the boy muttered, causing Neji's laughter to echo in the room.

Sasuke was pulled into another hug. He returned this one with little hesitation, a small smile twisting onto his lips.

"I've missed you, Sasuke. I went back to find you a few years ago when things got better, but, by then, they told me you had left."

The boy shrugged, uninterested in that topic of conversation. "So what are you doing here?" Sasuke mumbled, cheek still pressed against Neji's chest. "Do you work here or are you visiting?"

"I should ask you the same question," Neji responded with a quirked eyebrow, finally releasing the boy. Neither took a step back, so the distance between their bodies remained minimal. This was a testament to their history and how comfortable they felt in each other's presence even if years had passed.

"I was hired as an assistant a few weeks ago."

"Really? Assistant to who?"

"Itachi."

The delight in Neji's eyes was Immediately replaced with annoyance, giving Sasuke a start. His head tilted almost imperceptibly at the reaction, but he chose to remain naive about it. For now.

"You should be my assistant instead," Neji said, the warmth in his tone from earlier melting into cold undertones. He seemed to pass it off as a joke, but it didn't quite make it.

"So that you can boss me around some more?"

Neji paused, before a smirk formed. "No way," he uttered, completely untrustworthy. "I would never." That was accompanied with a wink.

Sasuke huffed and looked away, and they exchanged a silent moment of reminiscing as each of their minds reflected on similar past memories.

"Why would you even need an assistant anyway?" Sasuke muttered.

Neji cocked his head, the movement causing his brunette locks to sway to one side. "All CFOs have assistants though," he responded.

Sasuke spluttered, mouth hanging open. Not because he found out his friend was the CFO of the company, but this was the rumored man who allegedly had an intense feud with Itachi. And vise versa.

No way.

"You…" Sasuke pointed a finger at Neji, having a hard time with what words he wanted to utter from his vocals.

"Me…?" Neji edged on, a grin on his face as he wrapped his hand around the finger pointed at him as if he was grasping onto a toddler's hand. The brunette leant down, crowding Sasuke as he teased him. "What is it about me? Have I grown even more handsome than the days of our youth? Do I look more like Prince Charming with each passing second?"

Sasuke couldn't control the eye roll that found its way to the surface. A retort hung from lips, ready to be delivered, but a sudden foreign sound and a gush of air hit the both of them, prompting them to turn their heads in the direction it came from. Simultaneously, the boy heard Itachi's voice echo loudly in the room.

"You piece of shit. What the fuck are you doing?" Itachi's voice boomed within the room like thunder, lashing out dangerously and wildly.

Sasuke's eyes grew wide at the string of curses that assaulted his ears, and he felt the grip on his finger disappear. Neji had taken a step back, leaning against the edge of the oblong table as he eyed Itachi, unimpressed.

The boy stood there looking like a deer caught in front of headlights, unsure of what situation he was in exactly. As he stood there staring at Itachi, who was glaring right at him, he began to wonder if his boss was directing those words at him. His lower lip quivered at the thought until the man's gaze faltered.

"Those words weren't for you," Itachi added almost hastily as if he was afraid Sasuke would misunderstand.

"Don't worry. They were for me, Sasuke," Neji said, folding his arms.

Itachi shot laser beams at Neji, beckoning Sasuke with a hand. "Sasuke, come here."

"What's going on, Itachi?" he asked in concern, and even though his attention was on his boss, he noticed the odd look Neji was sporting when he had called Itachi by name.

"I expected you in my office fifteen minutes ago," Itachi growled. "Not standing around flirting with trash, Sasuke."

Sasuke's eyebrows furrowed, and instantly he wanted to retort, but Neji beat him to it.

"He only says that because he hates my guts, Sasuke. He does this often: lashing out at people with his temper tantrums and poor taste in vocabulary, so don't take it to heart."

But Sasuke did take it to heart because he thought Itachi was his friend, so where did the baseless accusation come from?

The brunette continued as he rolled his eyes. "And don't utter his name so casually like you know him."

According to Sasuke's perception, Itachi damn well sucker punched Neji in the face with the mere weight of his glare. "You're the stranger who lacks the upbringing to address someone you just met the right way," Itachi snapped, prompting a twitch in Neji's expression and a flash of anger flirting through his eyes.

Sasuke bit his lip on the sidelines, because that comment, although not directed at him, stung, too. Neji never used to allow attacks regarding his upbringing to affect his temper; it was always Sasuke who was sensitive to the subject, so the fact that the man was angry was probably for Sasuke's benefit.

Itachi's shoulders were still stiff with tension as he continued. "Due to your undeveloped brain cells, it appears I need to remind you of our company bylaws, too. Sexual harassment in the workplace environment is cause for termination."

A huff. "Get your facts straight, Uchiha. I've known Sasuke for nearly a decade, so quit exaggerating."

They were in a pissing match, Sasuke realized. Like a cat fight, but between men and a million times more aggressive as if they were clawing at each other's throats and setting the other person on fire with their eyes. Actually, in a rather succinct way of putting it, they were flinging feces in each other's direction while hissing scathingly. Sasuke realized this was what Naruto had initially warned him about.

"The meeting's about to start," he interrupted, glancing at the two who were ready to throw punches like savages. "And I just spent fifteen minutes of my life setting it up, so please don't let those minutes be wasted."

Neji was the first to snort, ruffling the boy's spikes with a large palm. "I'm mature enough to control myself," he said, causing Sasuke to wince. What a backhanded statement.

The boy slowly turned his gaze toward Itachi when the chilling silence wasn't enough to dictate just how pissed off his boss was. Sure enough, the man's gaze was drilled into him, demanding and impossibly agitated.

"Sasuke," he heard his name being grated out. "Beside me. Now."

Sasuke found his body moving immediately as if he was hardwired to do so. He didn't know at the time, but a sliver of satisfaction brewed in Itachi's chest at his compliance.

"We're leaving," Itachi stated.

"But the meeting is about to start." Sasuke's brows furrowed as if Itachi's lack of attendance at one meeting would tarnish his name.

"Let me summarize it for you," Itachi began, pressing a hand against Sasuke's lower back to guide him toward the door. "They're going to talk about who crawled up whose ass for profit and blame each other for their shortcomings. Then, they'll go in depth regarding ways to exploit the population for financial gain because the millions of dollars they pocket annually isn't succificent. Finally, they'll scratch each other's backs, make plans to visit whorehouses, and eat pastries till they fucking croak from plugged arteries."

"I- what?" Sasuke mumbled, confusion evident in his voice. By that time, he was already out the door and being guided through a secondary one that led to the stairwell.

The boy found himself pressed against the cold wall, and the dull echo of the door closing behind them rang up and down the long winding stairs. Itachi's hands were on his shoulders, keeping him there, and the man's head was bowed, which masked his features. Sasuke vaguely wondered if the man was trying to regain control of his own thoughts and emotions.

Finally, a mumble was delivered, not quite audible enough to be heard, but Sasuke could make it out more or less.

"I'm… sorry. I'm not good with him," the man said.

"Clearly." Well, that was the understatement of the century, and it was definitely not one-sided. Both of them had some issues brewing, and it must have been for quite some time because, man, the more well put together and "civilized" their choice of words were, the more chilling their demeanors became.

"Forgive me?"

The way he uttered such a thing insinuated that their roles were reversed, that Sasuke was the boss and Itachi was his subordinate… even though that clearly was not the case. So Sasuke found it odd that the man had said such a thing. Maybe he was saying it because they were friends?

"For yelling, manhandling me out the door, or the vulgar language?" Sasuke asked.

Itachi finally looked at him, guilt embedded on his face like a black and white painting with a speck of bright red, but his hands did not release his shoulders. His countenance screamed for forgiveness, but his body posture remained tense and territorial.

"For being mean. I'm sorry for being mean to you."

"Huh," Sasuke muttered, clearly not expecting that answer. Was Itachi afraid he'd be upset, consider him a mean person, and break their friendship? "You clearly are very self-conscious about that if you're apologizing right after the fact."

Itachi winced, hands sliding off Sasuke's shoulders to return to his sides. Sasuke thought he looked like a kicked puppy. Wasn't that saying something? For a gigantic man, who towered over him and swallowed his body whole with simply his height, weight, and width, to look so inexplicably torn in front of him, Sasuke felt like he had done something bad or wrong.

"I… didn't want you to be mad at me."

"But I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" Hopeful eyes.

Sasuke shook his head once. "A little surprised, sure, but it wasn't as if I was ignorant about the rumors. Why did you think I'd be mad at you?"

Sasuke watched as Itachi's lips pressed tightly together and his nostrils flared. The man had looked away when he asked such a question. He had no intention of answering him, so the boy let it go for now.

"Am I your first friend?" Sasuke blurted out instead, big eyes staring up at Itachi, who looked back at him quietly. The boy speculated that, if he wasn't Itachi's first friend, then the ones he did have were sparse.

"Is that bad?" Itachi finally relented with a prodding look.

The vulnerability Sasuke saw in his boss's dark eyes was harrowing. "Of course it isn't. I only asked because it seemed like you were worrying again. You know when you're about to get an anxiety attack, your eyes have this very sad look and then you seize up and your body starts shaking."

The man's eyes darted away from him, seemingly ashamed that Sasuke could read him so easily and notice these things about him. But Sasuke would point out, though, that if he didn't recognize the signs at this point, he'd be unfit to do his job.

"Sorry…" Itachi muttered.

Sasuke huffed and pushed himself off the wall. "You don't have to apologize for things like that," he commented, sweeping a hand in front of him. "After you, your holiness."

A tinge of amusement found its way to Itachi's gloomy countenance and he nudged the boy along with him. "Walk next to me," he said.

That was one of the things Sasuke liked about Itachi. The man never treated him like a subordinate or a lowly servant. In fact, if Itachi wasn't too busy placing them on equal pedestals, then he was elevating Sasuke's presence to a higher status. The boy shook his head of his thoughts and bounded along beside the man. "By the way, remind me never to piss you off," he muttered as an afterthought.

"But I'm always nice to you," Itachi rebutted when they reached his floor. He pulled out his access card to swipe at the door. The light flickered green and the door connecting the stairwell to the twenty-fifth floor chimed to indicate an unlocked status.

"You mean when you're not manhandling me?" Sasuke remarked with an arched eyebrow, voice lightly teasing.

He followed Itachi into his office, watching in broad daylight as the man, whose presence was supposedly required at a board meeting that began minutes ago, threw himself on the couch and gestured for him to take a seat. Itachi had unbuttoned his single coat button before he sat down with thighs splayed wide, his arms curling around to hang over the back of the couch.

So professional, Sasuke thought with mild amusement.

For some reason, such a way of sitting (posing, really) gave Sasuke instant flashes of this morning. The man was huge and wide, and that, in itself, was an understatement. The amount of space he took up was ridiculous. Itachi basically hogged the three-seater dead center, and, if Sasuke were to have had him scoot to make room for him, he would have taken up two cushions easily.

The reality of how massive Itachi was didn't register to Sasuke until the weight of his body was pressed firmly on top of his own this morning, hovering and shielding him from the rest of the world while he tickled him relentlessly… and touched him differently.

"Is manhandling you not just a nice way of offering my fondness and attention?"

Sasuke withdrew from his own thoughts as he heard Itachi's words, his body pausing as it lowered itself onto the opposite couch. "Are you being serious right now?" he asked, incredulity evident in his tone. What kind of skewed, crazy gibber-?

Sasuke's thoughts halted midway when he was granted a smirk. He groaned aloud and plopped down, pressing his back and neck fully into the cushion so he could stare up at the ceiling.

"I swear… the shit you say, 'Tachi." Another mutter.

"Language, Sasuke."

This time, Sasuke rolled his eyes so hard they nearly detached from their sockets.

The remainder of the day consisted of pretty much the same thing. Paperwork. Hearing gossip. Thinking about unnecessary things. And Itachi calling for him every ten minutes for nonsensical reasons. Perhaps, the only thing different about that day in particular was that they did not eat lunch together at their usual designated time.

"I need to step out for a few minutes, Sasuke," Itachi had told him, exiting the office after the longest stretch of time where he did not bug Sasuke: twenty minutes. A new record.

"Okay. Do you need me to call Deidara?" he asked, phone in hand.

"No," Itachi. told him, waving off the phone. "Don't eat lunch. I'll get us something on the way back."

Sasuke eyed him suspiciously, but nodded anyway.

And then, when the man came back, nothing seemed to be out of place so Sasuke let it go and enjoyed a bowl of unagi-don while stealing glances at his boss who appeared in a much better mood than this morning.

"You didn't, like, run over Neji with your car or something, did you?" he finally asked, setting down his bowl and chopsticks. "I'm not going to hear about this on the five o'clock news, am I?"

"That's actually not a bad idea," Itachi mused.

"'Tachi!" Sasuke berated.

"Hmm?"

The man had regarded him with a look of innocence so docile and child-like that Sasuke actually had taken a pause before he fixed a look on Itachi that said, 'You've got to be kidding me. Are you five?'

"No, my love. You will not hear about it on the five o'clock news," the man finally answered dutifully as if he was a recording machine.

Sasuke sighed in relief. "God, you and your- wait. Hold on. What did you just call me?"

The boy sat a little straighter, body hunched forward toward Itachi. The only barrier between them was the coffee table, which displayed their half-eaten meal. Sasuke's eyebrows furrowed nonstop while his brain attempted to replay Itachi's exact words.

H.J.

Fuck.

Itachi screwed up and let the term of endearment slip.

But how could he not when this precious boy, who sat before him, was the exact replica of his beloved Otouto in appearance and mannerisms? His Otouto's expressions, the way he spoke, the words he chose, it was all so eerily similar. It was like staring into a mirror and seeing the Sasuke he knew so well from their previous lifetime.

How could he even blame himself for his fuck up when the reason he slipped was because he was speaking to the same person, but simply in a different era? At that moment, though, Itachi scrambled to fix his fuck up. He didn't want to. He wanted to lay out all the details now, but he didn't want Sasuke to look at him like a deranged, schizophrenic loony on PCP. His Otouto wasn't ready to take it all in, and Itachi did not want to be regarded as a crazy person.

He did the next best thing.

"What do you mean?" Itachi asked, tone littered with massive confusion.

Feigning innocence. Denial. That was the next best thing….. Obviously.

Sasuke pointed an accusatory finger, and Itachi was ready for the firing session. "But you said-"

"Mhmm, I said, 'No, Sasuke. You will not hear about it on the five o'clock news."

Indignance filled his Otouto's eyes like a wild fire spreading over dried grassland. "No," he began, getting worked up. "I heard you say-"

Itachi tilted his head and stood, pressing a palm flat on the coffee table as he reached his other one out to press it against Sasuke's forehead. Concern filtered into his voice. "Are you feeling okay, Sasuke? You're acting kind of funny."

Sasuke's jaw dropped, and, really, Itachi felt guilty for lying to him like this and overwriting the boy's mental sanity, but his feelings of remorse were quelled by how adorably flustered his Otouto became.

The boy finally snapped his jaw shut and crossed his arms, a hmph followed by a pout extending from his lips. "I'm not sick," he grumbled, still eyeing Itachi with a narrowed gaze.

Itachi made a mental note to apologize in the future. It ruined him inside to deny Sasuke of the truth, especially when a part of that was denying that his Otouto was his beloved.

Itachi's palm traveled to Sasuke's spikes, ruffling them gently with a small smile. "Good. Finish your lunch, and then we need to head out to the manufacturing branch."

He didn't leave any room for conversation at that very moment. Itachi stood and buttoned his coat, piled up the takeout boxes in the disposable bag, and stepped outside to toss them away. He momentarily left behind his grumbling, stubborn Otouto, who made a peace sign with his index and middle finger and directed them horizontally at his own narrowed eyes before flicking them in Itachi's direction as if to say, 'I'm watching you.'

Itachi tried so hard to reign in his laughter. When the office door finally shut behind him, he leaned against the other side, head bowed, and his shoulders shook uncontrollably.

That was definitely his Otouto alright.

"So fucking adorable," Itachi muttered to himself.

After a few more hours of work, Itachi, once again, insisted on dropping Sasuke off at home. He had pulled up to the boy's apartment a little after six, put the car in park, and bid his Otouto farewell until tomorrow.

But all Sasuke did was eye him even more suspiciously. "You're not going to try and rope me into more conversation so I'd have to stay longer?"

Itachi could feel the amusement tear into the muscles around his eyes and mouth. "Should I?"

His Otouto ignored his rhetorical question and went on. "You're not going to make up an excuse about how your cat, Theodore, died and you need me to accompany you to his funeral? Stare me down with puppy dog eyes? You're not going to cry and beg me to stay?" Sasuke asked as if he knew or expected Itachi to tell fibs to remain in his company longer.

Itachi had a hard time keeping a straight face. It didn't appear as though Sasuke was attacking him per say. His suspicion was definitely there, but it was overtaken by his relentless teasing.

"What you must think of me, Sasuke," Itachi lamented in a murmur. He was certain that there was just the smallest hint of a pout on his lips. "I'm not that bad of a boy."

"Uh huh," Sasuke drawled, eyeing him in complete disbelief. "I mean, I just find it odd that you spend the entire workday with me, and you still want to hang out with me after. Don't you get tired of me? I get tired of myself."

"Never," Itachi responded. The unwavering tone in his voice startled Sasuke into silence. "I would never get tired of you. Not in this lifetime. Not in any lifetime."

Judging by the boy's taken aback look, Itachi's words must have surprised him. However, a teeny smile began to appear on his twitching lips, indicating that Itachi did not creep him out with his overzealous choice of words.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but it seems like you're a total romantic," Sasuke began. "Your lover must be grateful to have someone who is super attentive and has such a way with words."

Conflicting emotions arose in Itachi. On the one hand, he was almost delighted that Sasuke found him to be an ept partner in a relationship. His Otouto seemed to like the aspect of a lover being a romantic. Not that Itachi would normally allow anyone to describe him as such, but if the boy liked that in him, he would gladly assume the role and description.

On the other hand, why did his Otouto assume he had a lover? Did he do or say something that would indicate such a thing? And why did he say it so casually as if Itachi having a lover aside from Sasuke was anywhere near acceptable?

Itachi, himself, would smash windows and destroy anything in sight if Sasuke had gone and gotten himself a lover. That was unacceptable. He'd probably beat whoever it was half to death before making sure they'd never step foot into the country again. He was pretty aware of how his jealousy made him a completely different person, and, if he didn't, his Otouto was good about reigning him in. But he wasn't the only one.

In their first lifetime, his baby had evolved into jealous fits whenever he perceived anyone as a threat. Well, even if they weren't threats, his Otouto didn't like when Itachi acted out of character with other people, especially when the man clearly hated interacting with others. Jealousy on Sasuke's part didn't happen very often, but when it did, it resulted in a steady, chronological stage of actions.

It'd begin with silent treatment, then morph into petty anger. When his capricious mood brewed to a degree he began spouting questions, demands, and or smart alec, sarcastic responses, he'd move toward the next step, where he'd assert his rightful place in Itachi's life. Not that his place in Itachi's heart had, has, or ever will change, but Itachi took it all in a stride, especially when his Otouto began to strip him and himself and then bend over and beg the man to do dirty, absolutely filthy things to his body.

God, those moments were heaven. Fucking bliss.

But he digressed.

The point was that his Otouto wasn't supposed to utter such a thing so casually and be okay with Itachi being in any kind of relationship with anyone who wasn't him. So, of course, he stupidly responded with great indignance, offended that his loyalty and love for the boy would even be questioned. "I don't have a lover. Why would I have a lover?"

To which, he received a smile from his Otouto and a shrug. "Bye, 'Tachi. I'll see you tomorrow," the boy chimed cheekily as if they hadn't stumbled across a delicate conversation. It was almost dumbfounding to the man as he watched the boy go.

Unless Sasuke was not going anywhere in his arms, he refused to say goodbye, goodnight, or any term that inferred departing from his beloved Otouto. More or less, the boy seemed aware of this and did not bother being disturbed by Itachi's lack of response. Sasuke probably deduced that the man's lack of response was actually a good thing.

Itachi watched the boy disappear into his apartment, which was followed by the warm orange glow, but like any other night when he dropped his beloved off, he refused to budge for minutes after, stubbornly waiting for the lights to disappear, indicating Sasuke was safely tucked into bed.

This time, it did not happen… surprisingly.

He knew that the boy tended to shower first when he got home, then make dinner, do some unwinding, and finally go to bed, but it could not have been more than twenty minutes thereafter when a door slammed and a flustered Sasuke scurried over to his car, clearly aware that he'd been lurking. The Sasuke that bounded over was not the same one who had gone inside. This one's clothing, the same clothing he'd worn to work, was completely drenched. Additionally, his jet black hair was matted to his forehead and scalp.

Itachi was out of his car instantly, tugging off his coat and wrapping it around his Otouto's shoulders. It hung heavily off the boy's frame, reaching down mid-thigh, and it wrapped around him with so much room that it appeared more like a robe than a winter coat.

"What happened, Sasuke?" Itachi asked, concern etched in his tone and the way his brows furrowed. "Why are you drenched from head to toe?" A sneeze and chattering teeth echoed in his ears, causing the displeasure in his countenance to deepen. "Get in the car," he commanded, ushering the boy inside. He blasted the heater instantly.

"One of the pipes burst in the bathroom," Sasuke exclaimed, the shivers deescalating into tiny trembles. "When I went to the kitchen to see if it was a structural thing, the pipes underneath the sink were leaking, too. I shut off the water and called my landlord, but it must have been damaged for a while because the whole floor is wet."

"How are you supposed to live there if it's in that state?"

"I'm not," the boy shrieked. "The landlord told me I'd need to evacuate and find a place to stay for a while until they assess the damage and fix it. Ah shit, where am I supposed to stay for that long?" Sasuke whined.

Clearly, Itachi had come up with the idea the moment the first sentence came out of his Otouto's mouth because his next words were, "Come live with me."

Sasuke jerked in his seat and stared at the man wide-eyed with a gasp lingering on his lips. "B-But… But that's not okay," he stressed. "That's invading your privacy and personal life."

Itachi nearly smiled. His Otouto could invade his personal life as much as he wanted. Actually, the more he did, the happier it'd make him.

"I promise I won't feel invaded," he said, attempting to keep a serious tone. "Come stay with me, Sasuke. It's not like we're strangers, and it'll be easier for you to commute to work if it's with me anyway."

His precious cherub chewed on his bottom lip as his gaze flickered while he considered it.

"Water damage can take weeks to repair, Sasuke, especially if it's a structural issue. Do you really want to waste unnecessary money for a hotel for that long, especially when you won't have access to anything?"

"No…." Sasuke frowned.

"Then, this conversation is over. I'm taking you home with me."

"'Tachi, w-wait!" Sasuke said. "I can't just live at your place for that long…."

"You can," Itachi stated firmly, reaching out to pat the boy's head. "Let me take care of you."

His Otouto, bless his kind heart, still looked unsure as if he was taking advantage of Itachi as opposed to the other way around.

"If you find me insufferable, then I suppose I can't force you to endure my company for that long," Itachi added, releasing a pitiful sigh and coupling that with a saddened gaze that he knew would tug at the boy's heartstrings.

He knew his Otouto too well… and it wasn't like he had ill-intentions. He simply wanted Sasuke to be okay with accepting his help.

"N-No! That's not why!" Sasuke said hurriedly.

"Then, if it's not that, is it a matter of payment?" His Otouto was suspiciously silent. "I won't take money from you no matter what, Sasuke, but if that's the case, then how about you cook dinner for the both of us on a nightly basis, and we'll consider us even?"

"Is… Is that okay?" Sasuke whispered, doe-eyes peering up at Itachi.

Hell-fucking-yes.

"Of course." He gave a small, comforting smile.

"Okay," the boy acquiesced. The shivering seemed to finally stop, but he was still wet.

"Then, it's done. I'll go pack up some of your clothes, and then I'll take you home, okay?"

Sasuke finally huffed a laugh as if he didn't know what to do with Itachi. "You mean, take us to your home," he corrected.

Nope. His words were accurate the first time.

He pressed his index finger to the boy's button nose, chuckling lightly when Sasuke's nose scrunched up underneath his touch. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

Itachi exited the car and closed the door so the heat wouldn't escape. He locked it for safety reasons, humming quietly to himself as he climbed the stairs to his Otouto's apartment.

He'd have to put his chef on sabbatical leave, he thought fleetingly, as squelching noises erupted underneath his dress shoes. He happily ignored it, found an empty bag in Sasuke's closet, and began loading it with clothes. He placed half work clothes and half home clothes inside, stopped by the bathroom to gather a few toiletries from the cabinet, and finally grabbed Sasuke's phone, laptop, and keys off his nightstand. Anything else his Otouto needed, he could easily purchase. Itachi locked the door behind him, dropped the bag into the trunk of his car, and drove off with his adorable treasure in his passenger seat.