Mixed Communication

Summary: Sometimes it's not a lack of understanding that's the problem - it's when the other person understands far too much.



Disclaimer: I do not own any Naruto character. But I'm totally admitting the defeat in my effort to keep Itachi in Hong Kong, I just have too much love for the bastard ^_^



Warnings: YAOI, boyxboy, language per usual, smut, and some disturbing elements in the back story involving a minor (nothing icky graphic though, just hints)



A/N: SOO terribly sorry for taking what, almost a year to update? College trumps writing fiction :( especially when it involves much too much reading and writing. I plan on continuing this on a more regular basis now that I have some free time, however - I hope that the new stuff is of the same caliber as the old, please let me know if there are any inconsistencies within the story. This is where I'd planned to take it way back when (some was even written then), and I do have a plan on where it's going in the future :)



Oh yeah, and reviews make mouths happy ^_^



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Sasuke was having the most amazing dream. Everything about it was so real. The feel of his lover's chest beneath his hands, the press of heat between them as they spooned together on sweaty sheets, the smell coming off his skin, and most of all the feeling of warmth and heat and softness that he was plunging into over and over. He could even hear the voice of his lover calling his name, slightly scratchy, slightly high, edges blurred by sleep. It was the most delicious dream he could remember, and he'd had quite a few.



Gradually, gradually, thrust after thrust he started to rise out of sleep and slip into reality – reality that only brought the elements of his dream into sharper focus, as he realized that moaning, writhing lover that he'd dreamed was in his arms actually was in his arms, calling out his name, making needy little sounds as they moved their hips together. He brushed his lips against his lover's neck, ignoring the few hairs that tickled his nose, moving his hand down to caress his lover's swollen erection. This was worth waking up to every morning.



Naruto bucked against him, reaching a hand back to grab the raven's ass and urge him on faster, arching his back. Sasuke complied, still hazy from sleep but rushing towards a glorious conclusion. The blond cried out louder and tensed as he hit his climax, pushing Sasuke over the edge. Partway through he woke up enough to realize fully what was going on and pulled out, his release spattering the skin of Naruto's ass. He let his hand trail back, caressing the baby-soft skin, spreading cum around almost as if marking the blond as his own. He hadn't meant to go in without protection – but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing a part of him was still inside Naruto. It was like, down deep under any civilized façade he was able to put forth, there was this core of him that just desired to possess and own and have. And even better, it seemed like there was a part of Naruto that was more than willing to be taken in just that manner.



He pulled the blond towards him, pushing him down onto his back and hovering above. Naruto looked amazing. His blond hair was damp from sweat, cheeks and lips flushed red, eyes still hazy from sleep. He looked incredibly well fucked. A lazy smirk crossed the raven's lips.



"I could just eat you up, Naru-kun," he said.



"Mmm, morning to you too, bastard," Naruto said, bringing a hand up to brush the hair back from Sasuke's forehead.



Sasuke smiled and leaned down into a kiss, reveling in the feel of Naruto's soft lips and the way his fingers ran through the raven's dark hair. He trailed kisses over to the blond's ear, blowing in it lightly. The blond tightened his fingers in response.



"Oh, sorry about –"



The blond shrugged. "No big deal. We're both safe, right?"



"Right."



"And it's not like either of us are sleeping around…"



Sasuke smiled at the note of worry that the blond tried to mask. "Definitely not."



The raven nuzzled against his lover's neck, trying to ignore the unasked questions crowding in his head. It was scary how serious his feelings had become for the blond in such a short period of time. He tried to ignore the fact that in just a couple of days, Naruto would be going back to America – it just seemed unreal. He couldn't remember when he'd wanted anything more than having this man in his arms every morning. He had this confidence that things would work out in the end – that he'd do anything in his power to have things work out. The thought that the blond might not feel the same way, or that things might stand in their way, or that he wouldn't win – these thoughts didn't even dare step foot in his mind, because there was no way – no way he could ever let that happen.



He pulled back to look down at the blond once again, just to reassure himself that the man in his arms was no dream. Naruto's emotions were so open and honest on his face it made Sasuke's heart skip a beat. Here, in these arms, he was home.



Sasuke glanced over at the clock and sighed. "Work," he said, reluctantly sliding off of his lover and padding over to the closet to pick out a set of clothes. He felt Naruto's gaze on him. "What's your schedule like today, do you know?"



"Mmm, I'll have to check my cell phone. Don't think we really had anything planned, other than the dinner tonight. Oh, and Deidara's show after that."



Sasuke nodded. He couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face when Naruto winced before sitting up in bed.



"Bastard," Naruto said, scowling at him.



Sasuke just chuckled. "Stay there, I'll grab your phone." He walked to the entryway and ran through the blond's jean pockets, returning to the bedroom and tossing the phone to the blond lazing on the bed. "You're more than welcome to stay here as long as you want. The door will lock itself after you."



"Thanks," the blond said, flipping through his messages. "Looks like Sakura's going to be busy with Deidara all day anyhow, so I have time for myself."



"Hope you don't get lonely."



Naruto yawned, tossing the phone down onto the bed and snuggling back into the covers. "Nah, I'll just catch up on some much needed rest and take a long bath or something. Your tub is pretty amazing."



"I like it."



Naruto nodded sleepily, eyes closing again as the raven went to go take his morning shower. Sasuke hummed softly to himself as he finished, drying himself off and going to the kitchen to fix some breakfast. It didn't take him long to decide to treat the blond to breakfast in bed. After all, he was the reason Naruto was so exhausted in the first place – wouldn't do for him to lose all of his strength.



Naruto's smile when the raven sat down on the bed was more than enough reward. He sat up, eyeing the breakfast with a resigned sigh, and took the offered cup of tea while rubbing sleep out of his eyes. They ate together in semi-silence, Sasuke checking out the morning paper while they ate. Every so often, he glanced over at the blond, watching him eat. He really was like a kid sometimes, with that pure enjoyment of even simple things like food. It was endearing.



After they finished, Sasuke gathered the dishes to take them into the kitchen. He hid a smile at the yawn that the blond tried to muffle, leaning over to ruffle his lover's hair before leaving the room. He had to admit to himself that he took no little satisfaction in the knowledge that he was the one who caused Naruto to be so tired.



. . .



Naruto lay back on the bed and dozed, listening as Sasuke took the dishes back to the kitchen. His body ached all over, but it was a delicious feeling, the feeling of being thoroughly fucked mixed with the feeling of being thoroughly spoiled. A part of him, some lazy self-centered part, wanted this treatment to never end. Not that he would ever be satisfied with just this – being taken, taken care of, pampered, every need met (except ramen, but that was another issue…) – but it was nice to indulge in it just a bit. The thought of a day without any expectations made him very happy.



He could hear Sasuke getting ready in the bathroom as he mused. It was nice. He turned his head and watched as Sasuke came back into the room, dressing neatly and checking himself out in the mirror.



"You look great," Naruto called out encouragingly.



Sasuke glanced over and gave him a small smile. He finished tying his tie and came over, leaning down to give Naruto a brief kiss. The blond lifted his hand and ran fingers through the raven's hair, marveling at the softness. He was seriously tempted to pull off the tie, undo all the careful work that had just been done. But he could be patient. He wasn't sure his body could take much more this morning anyhow.



"You'll be ok, right? Call me if you need anything," Sasuke asked, sneaking one more kiss.



"I'll be fine," Naruto said. His eyes tracked Sasuke's form as he left the room, wondering if he would look back at the last minute. He didn't. Naruto pouted slightly, but then thought about the fact that he was being left unguarded in the raven's private domicile. At that, he smiled, turning and snuggling back into the pillows for a short nap.



. . .



Itachi stared out the plane window at the buildings of Hong Kong. Outwardly he was calm; inwardly he was having the old debate with himself about whether or not it was worth it to fly first class instead of just purchasing a jet. They could have afforded it without any issues, and it was annoying to have to deal with the mass of other passengers – but a private jet seemed almost too extravagant, especially when he'd rather invest his money in other things. Besides, he figured that his blond lover would either berate him for the indulgence or borrow the jet for extended stays overseas, both of which the raven would rather avoid. There was no telling either way.



Deidara had spent the better part of his youth in extreme poverty, and knew all too well about how money could be used to help those in similar situations. Every so often Itachi would find out that Uchiha Corp, due to the blond's influence on its employees, was involved in ventures to help alleviate the conditions of those in unfortunate circumstances. Although Itachi didn't consider himself a humanitarian, it was hard to complain too much. Especially when his people were able to find a way to turn a profit, and Deidara could be so expressive of his appreciation.



At other times, Deidara could look to all the world like an obsessive and self-indulgent consumer – but in reality he was extremely savvy in his purchases. Itachi had no problem allowing this indulgence, though he preferred it when those purchases did not take Deidara away from him too often. He was careful never to wrap the chains around the blond too tightly, however – not out of fear he would ever fly away, but because he hated the listless mood his lover sank into when he couldn't express himself. He knew the blond was his. There was no need to press the issue.



He could still remember the first time he had seen Deidara, and it wasn't too far from where he was sitting now. His great-uncle Madara had brought him over to Hong Kong Island for an "educational" experience when he was 14. Itachi had snuck out one evening while Madara negotiated with some rather questionable characters. He had skulked around in the even more questionable neighborhood they were visiting. A normal person wouldn't've gone out on those streets at night, especially not alone. But Itachi had never been normal.



Truth be told, he hadn't actually been alone that night, either. Although he had been trained in a range of martial arts since he was little, one of his father's stipulations for overseas trips had been two bodyguards. Itachi figured that if they couldn't keep up with him, then they weren't worth the money they were being paid. He'd gone through a few of them before finding the current pair who didn't mind so much that their client could (for the most part) take care of himself. One even encouraged Itachi's behavior, seeming to feel that the sharper his instincts were honed about people following him, the better. They usually just stayed back and watched, making sure that any situation the raven got into didn't get out of hand.



Itachi hadn't been looking for trouble that night, he'd just been curious. When he spied the blond in the second-story window of a building in a dingy alley, that curiosity had been piqued. At first, he'd almost thought it was a girl, because of the long hair and graceful movements. He'd crouched on a balcony opposite the building, watching as the figure stared intently at something being created by a pair of pale white hands. When the blond set the object down on the windowsill, Itachi had seen that it was an intricately crafted paper flower. He was startled when the figure looked up and right at him across the way. He'd known he hadn't made a sound.



The boy looked young, with grey eyes that betrayed nothing – no shock or concern, nothing more than recognition of Itachi's presence. He could see that the blond was definitely a boy, but one of absolute beauty. The beauty was marred by dirt and an ugly bruise on the right cheek. He could also see the collar locked around the pale thin neck. He figured that the blond was probably a year or two younger than him, though it was hard to tell.



He had heard about child trafficking before – with his great-uncle, one heard about quite a few questionable practices – but had never actually encountered it. From what he'd heard, most of the boys, sold or kidnapped from poor families, were trained as pickpockets and thieves. This boy didn't look like a pickpocket. He definitely didn't look like someone from one of the indigent farming families in the countryside on the mainland, either. But given the predominant business in their current neighborhood, he could hazard a guess at just what job the boy was expected to perform.



Even from the beginning, he knew, his predominant motivation for drawing closer to the boy wasn't out of pity, or concern. There was no sense of wanting to right the injustice that was obviously happening on a regular basis in the room where the boy was being held. There was, one could say, a certain amount of protectiveness that rose within him in those first few moments – but driving that protectiveness was desire. Desire to have. To claim. And Itachi was used to getting what he wanted.



He'd heard the door in the room open, and watched as the boy spun around, knocking the flower off the windowsill and onto the ledge outside. Itachi scampered silently over to the ledge and peered inside; watching as the boy sullenly went over to stand before the two men who had entered the room. The raven didn't catch all of the conversation – one man was obviously saying something about a ghost and high quality, manhandling the boy and pulling the thin robe he wore open to expose him to the other man, highlighting the merchandise with a kerosene lamp he held. The other man looked drunk and not just a little violent. For some reason, the two started to argue over price, and the blond was caught in the middle. He looked like he wanted to back away, but was held by the rope attached to his collar.



When things really did get violent, they escalated so quickly that Itachi could never quite remember exactly what had happened. Somehow, the lamp was shattered, splashing oil over the back of the boy's robe and lighting it on fire. Itachi had jumped inside the room at that point, grabbing the boy and covering him with his own body to put the fire out, ignoring the pain on his chest. His bodyguards were in the room right after him, putting themselves between Itachi and the two men. When it was finished, the potential customer lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood. The boy's pimp was cowering in front of a pistol held by one bodyguard, while the other bodyguard was on the phone to Madara.



Itachi had been worried that'd he'd been too late; the body beneath him was so still. When he lifted up, he could see ugly burns that covered the left side of the boy's back. He was relieved to see that it still rose and fell in silent breath. He would never forget the look on the boy's face when he'd brushed the blond hair back behind the boy's ear – the sheer hatred within the grey eyes as they looked over at the man cowering against the far wall. It was like no one else in the room even existed.



When Madara had arrived to assess the situation, he'd found his grand-nephew still hovering protectively around the blond, ignoring the burns on his own chest. The two Uchiha's had locked gazes for a moment. Not a word was exchanged. Once he saw the seriousness of his grand-nephew's intent, Madara had just given Itachi a measured nod and turned to the pimp, offering him $200 to buy the boy. Seeing as how that was the best offer currently available to him – especially considering that his merchandise was now damaged goods – the pimp accepted.



The boy didn't speak a word to them as they traveled back to their hotel. He didn't cry out as the burns on his back were treated. For a while Itachi wondered if he could speak at all (a question that he would come to consider mildly ironic a few years down the line). The raven had put up with having his own wounds treated only as long as he got to stay within sight of his new acquisition, mildly at a loss of how to proceed.



Madara hadn't yelled or berated him for the trouble he'd gotten himself into. That, Itachi had known, would come later at the hands of his father. His great-uncle just went back to his business after making sure that the bodyguards would stay close in case the blond decided to suddenly go feral.



The silence continued throughout the length of their stay in Hong Kong. Itachi had sullenly left the blond with a bodyguard the few times when Madara insisted that he participate in certain intercultural exchanges – the "educational" opportunities that were the reason behind his involvement in the trip. Afterwards he would go back to the room where the blond was in bed convalescing. The grey eyes watched his every move, narrowing whenever he got too close, seeming to be waiting for the moment when the raven would make his move. For the most part, Itachi just sat in a chair and looked back, content to wait.



When they traveled back to Japan, Itachi's mother had immediately taken the blond under her wing, shooing Itachi away. He still watched, but from a distance. He saw the boy's guarded expression slowly relax into a tentative trust of the cheerful, bubbly woman over the course of those first few weeks. He saw the bruises fade, and the boy's thin frame and pale skin gain a healthy look, though Deidara always remained slender. He heard from his mother about the first time that Deidara spoke, mildly jealous that it wasn't to him – but pleased to finally know the boy's name. It took a long time for the blond to relax whenever the raven entered the room. It was like the boy had an instinctive knowledge that Itachi's actions were not merely out of kindness – but slowly, surely, his patience was rewarded, and he gained the blond's friendship.



The flamboyance of the personality that emerged from the quiet shell was surprising, but to Itachi it spoke of a certain courage. He was proud of Deidara as he found his voice, keeping the long blond hair even in the face of derisive comments from his classmates and teachers. Part of the courage probably came from knowing that the raven was always there to crack down on anyone who went too far – but most of it was just part of who Deidara was, and his fiery spirit that not even all the atrocities he'd endured in his youth could put out.



Deidara had stood behind him at his parents' funeral a couple years later after they died in a plane crash. By that time Itachi was experienced enough to take over the company with only minimal complaints from the board of directors. He'd done it while finishing high school and going to college. Deidara had gone to the same college as him a year after that, though for a few months or so the blond had moved out to live on his own. Itachi hadn't minded. He had a confidence that the threads that bound the blond to him were strong enough that they would never snap, even if Deidara felt the need to test his independence a bit.



In some ways, it was good – Itachi had known that inside himself was an overwhelming desire to possess the blond so completely no one else would even be able to look at him, but he also knew that expressing that possessiveness would most likely either destroy the blond or those silken threads that bound them together. So he bided his time, and kept tabs on Deidara's movements, trusting that in the long run the blond would be back.



Deidara had come back. It wasn't some sappy romantic reunion or dramatic high-tension encounter. It was more like that the expectation that had lain between both of them since the moment they first laid eyes on each other was finally accepted by the blond. All the desire and possessiveness that Deidara knew lay inside the raven – even if it was never spoken out loud – were things that he finally decided to embrace rather than resist. And so, their relationship began in earnest. And they never looked back.



Itachi felt lucky, if truth be told. He'd had confidence – but holding back that long had been difficult. The only reason he'd been able to do it was because he'd known the blond was worth it. He didn't regret it in the least. While other people had to worry about tenuous relationships and petty jealousies, he had a lover that he owned, completely, voluntarily – and nothing would ever break that bond.



He smiled to himself as the plane's engines started and they finally got going down the runway. A few short hours and he would be home. He was looking forward to meeting the woman who had enticed his blond away so many times, and especially looking forward to meeting the man who'd attracted his baby brother. He was even curious to watch Deidara's new show. Most of all though, he was looking forward to the time after the show, when everyone else was gone and it was just him and his blond, who was still an absolute beauty even after all these years, even with his scars. He'd promised Deidara that he'd do whatever he wanted to him once they were alone – and he had quite a few interesting ideas on just what that would entail. Deidara had never been wrong about the raven's predatory instincts – and the blond would always be his most delicious, delectable, and wonderfully willing prey.



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Sorry to start back with such a heavy chapter, it won't stay that way :) I just wanted to tell ItaDei's backstory, at least in brief. *heart* Itachi, *heart* Dei... anyone else curious as to what Naruto is going to do with himself all alone in Sasuke's apartment? *cackles* hopefully you wont have to wait tooo terribly long to find out.



Ja ne!