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Sasuke doesn’t recognize himself in the mirror these days.
It’s not that he necessarily looks different. Not really. It’s more a feeling, something intrinsic in nature that just feels… unfamiliar. He’s got the same dark eyes, dark hair, light skin, tired expression–on all physical points he is identical to who he was a month ago.
But, in reality, he couldn’t be more different.
“Sasuke?” Itachi’s steady voice beckons, and Sasuke’s drawn to it like a moth to flame. It’s like being cursed, if you really get down to it, like his body moves entirely on its own without any sort of premeditation. Itachi calls, Sasuke falls in line.
“Hm?” That’s something else that’s the same: his demeanor. Sasuke always holds himself with this ‘why should I care’ sort of attitude–at least that’s what Naruto likes to call it–and that’s certainly not going to change anytime soon. It just makes it all the more difficult to put his finger on what is different, why he feels so…out of place, lately.
Itachi smiles warmly as he reclines on Sasuke’s bed, body stretched out comfortably on top of the perfectly made sheets. “You were gone for some time. Feeling okay?”
It’s always the same. That brotherly concern, the gentle presence that has brought Sasuke endless comfort–things he will never put into actual words.
“I’m fine,” Sasuke murmurs, climbing onto the open side of the mattress and reclining comfortably. It’s the same, but it’s new. This atmosphere between them is familiar but somehow overwhelming.
Sasuke feels like screaming.
Itachi leans over, his fingertips gently guiding Sasuke’s gaze to meet his own. His older brother studies his expression, probing deep into his soul with such intensity Sasuke feels his body begin to set on fire, one cell at a time.
“You’re in your head.” Itachi’s right, with his leveled composure and steady presence. He’s also the same, as collected as he’s ever been. He’s always been the only one who could truly read Sasuke, and in that way he often believes Itachi knows him better than he knows himself.
Maybe he can tell Sasuke what the hell is so different.
“Tell me,” Itachi’s thumb brushes soothingly over Sasuke’s jaw, concern laden in his eyes.
And just like always, Itachi calls, Sasuke falls in line.
“Something’s different.” Sasuke answers reluctantly, unsure of whether he should speak it aloud. He searches for further explanation, but no words come to mind, and Itachi’s concern only seems to heighten. Only for a moment, though. It’s like his super power, the way he can take any of Sasuke’s troubles and diminish them to nothing.
“Everything’s the same as it’s always been,” Itachi assures him, voice smooth as ever. But it’s as his lips press gently against Sasuke’s that he’s assured things are very much not the same, despite the feeling of desperate belonging overcoming him.
“Mm mm,” Sasuke mumbles against his brother"s lips, not even sure what he was trying to say—an agreement? Protest? At this point, does either even matter?
Itachi’s fingers wind into the hair on the back of Sasuke’s neck, guiding his movements as their lips slide together. Sasuke inhales cautiously through his nose, his arms anchored to his sides, heat creeping up his neck and settling in the tips of his ears.
Now, this is something—the nervousness, unsettling and potent, the way he never knows how to act or what to do, not when Itachi is near. It’s like he’s always just followed along, a tide waning at the moon’s will, content to be guided.
Itachi is his moon: larger than life, commanding, elegant, a beacon of light in the ever consuming darkness. Sasuke doesn’t know how or why he’s so helplessly entranced, but what he does know is that it’s always been natural. Perhaps in that way, things are the same.
“Sasuke,” Itachi drawls, his lips moving against Sasuke’s like they never had space between them to begin with. Maybe they hadn’t. “Loosen up, you’re okay.”
But Sasuke doesn’t know how.
Despite it, when Itachi commands, Sasuke finds a way, and his arms move slowly to find their place on Itachi’s hips. Things are snapping into place, just as they always do, and Itachi is resuming his pace, his tongue inviting itself between Sasuke’s lips. It feels out of body, the way that Sasuke follows suit, opening up to accommodate and swirling his own tongue around Itachi’s. It’s not like they haven’t done this before. In fact, it’s been their nightly routine for the past few months, but Sasuke can’t seem to quite settle into it. Each time he feels like he’s been lit on fire, burning from head to toe at every touch Itachi offers him.
The taste of his brother’s lips have been seared into Sasuke’s memory, each day a reminder of something that doesn’t feel quite right, but perfectly normal all at once. It’s almost embarrassing how much he looks forward to these moments of theirs, all lips and tongues, needy touches turning more and more inappropriate by the day. Itachi insists things are the same–that this is how they’ve always been. Then, why does Sasuke feel so goddamn lost in it all?
“Sasuke,” Itachi speaks so clearly, like always, his tone smooth and inviting. “Come here.”
It’s an invitation, but it strikes Sasuke as more of an order, and he doesn’t hesitate to follow Itachi’s instructions as he leads him to straddle his lap. This is definitely new, and Itachi must see the worry in Sasuke’s expression as he settles on top of him.
“You’re safe,” Itachi reassures, brushing Sasuke’s hair from his eyes. “Always, with me.”
Sasuke nods, silently taking stock of the sensations and how positively new they all feel. From this vantage point, he finds himself looking down at his brother, only slightly, but it’s something he can’t remember ever having done. Itachi’s long, black lashes fan over his dark eyes, all beauty and mystery. Sasuke could get lost in them–maybe he’s been there all along–and he shies away quickly before he lets on to that fact. Itachi is far too perceptive to miss it, but he hopes he’ll at least have some mercy on him.
“How was your day?” Itachi asks, running his palms down Sasuke’s sides casually. He applies just enough pressure along the way, adjusting trajectory to journey back up Sasuke’s front, catching briefly on the bottom hem of his shirt, but ultimately leaving it as is. Sasuke gasps quietly, far too tuned into Itachi’s touch to converse clearly, but he searches his memories for an answer nonetheless.
“Fine. Boring.” It’s all he could come up with, but it’s pretty representative of lectures, quizzes, humoring his friends, and coming back home. Itachi nods, humming thoughtfully as his hands find their perch on the tops of Sasuke’s thighs, his fingers squeezing slightly as Itachi waits for further explanation that never comes.
“And Naruto? How’s he these days?” Something dark flashes across Itachi’s expression. It’s brief, but Sasuke catches it, but he decides to let it go just as quickly as it had passed.
Itachi had sure been interested in Naruto lately, considering he had asked about him during nearly every one of their little ‘sessions’ together.
“Loud? Annoying? The usual.” Sasuke answers nonchalantly body stiff as Itachi’s hands continue to roam over him casually.
“The same?” Itachi frowns slightly. “That doesn’t tell me much, Sasuke.”
“Well that’s how it is,” Sasuke insists. “It never changes. It’ll be the same answer tomorrow.”
Itachi hums thoughtfully, frowning as his hands find their way back to Sasuke’s shirt hem. His fingertips dip beneath it, the loose fabric tucking up easily as he ghosts his fingertips over Sasuke’s quivering torso. “Things hardly ever remain that unchanging for such a long time.” Whether purposeful or not, a fingertip finally brushes against Sasuke’s chest, and he flinches at the brief warmth of it. “Least so with someone as excitable as Naruto.”
“Why are you so interested?” Sasuke snaps, his patience waning. It seems so innocuous an obsession, Sasuke’s childhood friend who is typically nothing but loud and overbearing. Sure, they get along far better these days than in previous years, but it’s really not that exciting a topic.
Like, it’s really really not.
Itachi clears his throat, taking a few steady breaths as his hands finally make full contact with Sasuke’s abdomen. They’re warm, almost too warm, too comforting, and Sasuke almost forgets the frustration of just moments ago.
“You’ve been getting along recently, the two of you.” It comes out as an accusation, not a statement, and Sasuke can’t help but think it’s just one more thing that is not typical. His brother isn’t one to show signs of weakness, or well, anything other than unmatched composure. It makes Sasuke’s chest tighten with something unpleasant.
“Better than the constant fist fights,” Sasuke insists with a scoff, the frustration of the conversation diverting his attention from the way Itachi’s hands roam his body, now exploring the planes of Sasuke’s back.
“And what are you two doing in place of all the fighting, I wonder.” Again, an accusation.
“Talking?” Sasuke responds, almost as if he’s thinking out loud. He’s positively at a loss with this topic, in truth, and all he has left are stupid, basic responses that do nothing to drive the conversation to something other than this.
“Like we do?” Itachi responds quickly. If Sasuke were to have more to add, he certainly wouldn’t have had the chance to. Itachi’s eyes seem haunted by something, and with both his hands resting on Sasuke’s lower back he’s in the perfect position to pull him closer.
But despite their closeness, and especially despite the way Itachi leans in to nip gently at Sasuke’s lower lip, he can’t believe what he thinks he’s starting to understand. Like us?
His relationship with Naruto is nothing like this.
“What are you really asking me, Itachi?” Sasuke’s tone is stern, and he’s impressed with the iron will it takes to not lean into Itachi’s lips grazing over Sasuke’s jaw.
He’s quiet for almost too long, but after one more steadying breath and a peck at the corner of Sasuke’s mouth, Itachi finally responds, “our moments together are precious to me.”
His tone is somewhat fractured, and Sasuke can tell there’s more behind it. Itachi trying and failing to hide something behind his carefully constructed facade is rare, nearly unheard of, and Sasuke almost wants to go picking at those cracks.
That desire is long gone when Itachi pulls Sasuke in for a long kiss, his lips devouring him with more vigor than any of those previous that night. Sasuke sighs into it, his body going limp against Itachi’s and his hands venturing to rest idly on his shoulders.
Precious. Sasuke is fixated on the word. Is that how he also feels? Itachi has always been important to him. He’d even venture to say he’s the person he loves most in this world. How does what they’re doing now play into that? Does that make him precious?
Is Itachi right? Is this really how things have always been?
Their lips push and pull against each other, tongues swirling in a passionate dance of need as they indulge in this moment together. It’s more heated than past nights, and Sasuke can’t quite decipher why. He’s never done this with anyone else, so it’s hard to explain the motivations behind it, but what he does know is that his body is combusting with every second that goes by. Eventually his hands seem to move on their own, feeling for any part of Itachi he can reach, charting the way his body feels under his touch from the tops of his shoulders down to the dip of his waist.
“Sasuke,” Itachi is breathless as he pulls away, but only briefly before his lips are on Sasuke’s neck, sucking and lavishing with gentle licks. “Let’s not hold back tonight.”
Unsure of what exactly that means, Sasuke nods in agreement. It’s not like his brain is firing on all cylinders, especially not as Itachi’s mouth continues to move downward, nipping at his collarbones and drawing a needy groan out of Sasuke. It’s such a whirlwind of sensations, and Sasuke barely has the forethought to consider how much further they’ve already gone tonight than they ever have. What a slippery slope it appears to be, and his heart jumps with a sudden panic at the thought of how far he may eventually fall into this.
Is it okay to be doing this with his brother? But if not with him, then with who?
Who else is precious to him?
Itachi leaves him no room to ponder as he dips his head, raising Sasuke’s shirt to bunch beneath his chin, and wrapping his lips around his nipple. Sasuke gasps, his hips jolting in his startle, and a muffled groan escapes Itachi as he sucks gently. It’s only now that Sasuke notices the hard member beneath him, throbbing and pressing intrusively into his ass where he’s seated. He almost can’t believe it, but perhaps it’s naive of him to not have anticipated this.
“I-Itachi,” he stutters, but in truth he has no words to follow. All he can bring himself to do is avert attention to his own body, to the way Itachi sucks his chest, and to his own hard on straining helplessly against his sleep pants.
“Mm,” Itachi responds, reassuring but distant. He’s clearly entranced, his hips canting every so often, and Sasuke feels his cock twitch in response to every movement. He digs his fingers into Itachi’s waist, finally working up the courage to snake his hands beneath the light cotton fabric, and roaming over the dips and ridges of Itachi’s toned midsection.
It’s no wonder his older brother is highly sought after in their high school, students of all ages fawning over him but to no avail. Itachi, famously, doesn’t date. It’s absolutely no secret, considering everyone wants to date him, and none have ever had the chance. When asked his reasoning the answer is always the same: that he has far higher priorities.
As the younger brother, Sasuke often gets requests on Itachi"s behalf. Lovesick girls begging him to introduce them, for Sasuke to convince Itachi to give them even one date. He’s pretty sick of being in the middle of it. It winds a ball so tightly in his gut each time someone mentions their undying love for his brother, and Sasuke swears if he gets one more request he may just snap.
It’s not as if he’s without his own desperate admirers. He’s definitely not. Among the single guys in his grade, Sasuke probably gets asked out the most. That doesn’t mean he’s interested, though, but it’s not nearly as much of a pain as turning down offers on behalf of Itachi.
Despite it all, though, he gets it.
Itachi’s body is downright maddening, the way his muscles are toned as if they’re chiseled out of pure, stone cold marble. His skin is soft and unblemished, hair silky and tamed, and the way he carries himself is unfairly alluring.
Sasuke knows, because if the way his cock aches at the moment is any indication, he’s not immune to those factors either.
“You’re unfair.” Sasuke groans, his forehead resting atop Itachi’s head as he works to catch his breath. He can see Itachi grin briefly before returning to a neutral expression, and kissing his way over to the other, unbothered nipple.
“Hm?” is Itachi’s only response, and Sasuke takes that as an prompt to explain. Not that he knows how to explain, just that he knows what he’s feeling and felt compelled to say it.
“Why don’t you date?” It’s the only thing he could think to say, but at least it’s something he truly wonders. Why doesn’t he? If he"s doing this with Sasuke—his brother—surely he wants to do it with someone he’s in a relationship with.
That’s how that’s supposed to work, right?
Itachi freezes, his body going rigid briefly, and Sasuke can’t help but assume that’s not a great sign. Should he not have asked that?
After a few moments that feel way too long, Itachi straightens his posture, gazing into Sasuke’s eyes with an unreadable expression.
“I have no desire to.” It’s a quick answer, one Sasuke’s unsure how to decipher, but as quickly as the words leave his mouth, his lips are back on Sasuke in an instant.
“But—“ Sasuke starts, and Itachi pulls himself away from Sasuke’s neck just long enough to interrupt.
“You heard me right? You’re precious to me.”
With that, Itachi leaves no further room for discussion as his lips crash into Sasuke’s. Compared to previous times together, this is the first time there hasn’t been even a hint of brotherly affection present. There is absolutely nothing brotherly about the way Itachi’s tongue stretches towards the back of Sasuke’s throat, or the way his hands grab onto his hips so tightly they’re sure to bruise.
A sickening feeling begins to fill Sasuke, one that feels wrong enough that it just might come full circle to feeling right again. At its very core what it means is that Sasuke is confused , but he can no longer ignore the fact that he still goes along with this. With every kiss, Sasuke reciprocates. He’s yet to pull away or protest even once, and perhaps what he’s feeling now is shame.
Shame that he does, in fact, want to take advantage of his brother in any fashion that he’ll let him.
Something has snapped in Itachi. This becomes abundantly clear as he grinds up against Sasuke’s ass, groaning at the sensation. He uses his grip around Sasuke’s hips to guide his movements, pulling him down roughly against his lap as he rolls his hips indulgently. Sasuke can’t help but enjoy every second of it, focusing all his senses on this moment and the rare sight of his brother absolutely coming undone.
Sasuke loves it, and he doesn’t even think before his hand is flying to his own crotch, pressing against his cock to relieve the pressure. Fuck, he feels like he’d cum on the spot if he were to actually touch himself.
“No holding back,” Itachi breathes, panting against Sasuke’s ear. Sasuke groans in return, unsure of how he’s even supposed to proceed after that, but lucky for him his big brother isn’t planning on letting him stall.
Itachi makes quick work of removing Sasuke’s cock from its fabric confines, and Sasuke gasps as the cold air mingles with the warmth of his brother"s palm. The first stroke is almost too much, Sasuke’s hips thrusting upwards to meet Itachi’s hand.
“Fuck,” Sasuke curses under his breath, nearly forgetting where he is. He’s never felt anything this good, not even when touching himself alone. His head feels light, as does his whole body, and he’s sure he could float right out of this room if he were to let go enough. Itachi clearly clocks just how good he’s feeling, and grins cheekily as he offers another stroke.
“You,” Sasuke starts, inhaling sharply at Itachi’s thumb swiping over his tip, spreading precum over his shaft expertly.
“Me,” Itachi mirrors his words, giving Sasuke’s cock a couple experimental squeezes.
Sasuke nearly chokes at the sensation.
Unable to find the words, Sasuke instead scoots himself back on Itachi’s lap, fumbling for his waistband and somehow succeeding at his goal. Itachi’s cock springs out of his pants, hard and glistening, and Sasuke’s eyes go so wide he’s sure he looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“Ah,” Itachi confirms, knowingly, and the next thing he does tells Sasuke with great certainty that they were, in fact, not having the same thought.
Itachi’s hand wraps effortlessly around both of their cocks, pressing them together snugly. Sasuke can’t look away, especially not at the way Itachi’s hand looks stretched around them: strong and proficient.
When Itachi’s hand starts moving, Sasuke’s legs shake. The feeling of Itachi’s cock against his own is warm and far too enticing. He can feel every twitch, the way it swells the longer Itachi strokes it, how it leaks at the tip and Itachi’s hand spreads it over both their shafts, their scents mingling.
Holy fuck , he could have never dreamt of this in his dirtiest fantasies.
“Sasuke. Breathe,” Itachi coos, his words breathy as he too stares at the lewd scene between them.
Sasuke inhales deeply, clearly having needed it, and on impulse he reaches out to brush his fingertips over Itachi’s tip.
“ Mmm,” Itachi moans, his eyes fluttering shut as Sasuke touches him again. “More, Sasuke.”
It’s a wonder Sasuke didn’t cum right then and there.
He obliges, using Itachi’s hand as a guide and wrapping his own around the two cocks as well, just below Itachi’s hand. He begins to stroke in time with Itachi’s movements, his breathing becoming more labored with every gentle pass. He finds himself squeezing tighter, following his own desires and reveling in the way Itachi also responds with pleasure.
“ Sasuke, ” Itachi huffs, winding the fingers of his free hand into Sasuke’s hair and pulling him in for a heated kiss. It’s overwhelming, every sensation crashing into Sasuke like an aggressive tide against the sands, and it only takes a couple more strokes for him to cum on a broken moan.
“Itachi, fuck,” Sasuke manages to let escape, working to catch his breath as Itachi’s hand continues to stroke them both. Sasuke is quickly approaching overstimulation, his limbs jerking and his hips writhing in desperation. His cum covers Itachi’s hand, dripping down his knuckles and slicking the way for his palm as his movements become faster and more desperate.
“ Itachi,” Sasuke gasps, begs, the sensation so overwhelming he can see spots clouding his vision, his breaths catching in his throat.
Just when he thinks he’s going to lose it, Itachi moans loudly. It’s almost a scream, really, and he cums with Sasuke’s name euphoric on his lips.
The two sit in silence, cum drying between them as they work to catch their breath. Sasuke searches for his ticket back to reality with little success, his thoughts only bringing him back to the sight of Itachi sitting beneath him, his pale skin tinged a beautiful pink and his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. It’s the most disheveled Sasuke has ever seen him.
After a few more long-passing moments, Itachi fixes his gaze on Sasuke’s, smiling and ghosting his fingertips over his cheek affectionately.
“I really, really do cherish our time together.” Itachi coos, his words sincere but with some sort of poorly veiled meaning behind them. Something Sasuke still can’t quite make out.
“You really are precious to me.”