Finding Home

Authors: KeairaxSeiaa & Wasurenaikara
Title: Finding Home
Warnings: Boy-love, brotherly love, spoilers up to the recent manga chapters involving the Uchiha, non-con, angst.
Rating: NC-17 (Most of this chapter is not worksafe. So. 8D Enjoy?)
Characters: Primarily Sasuke and Itachi.
Pairings: Mainly SasuIta with eventual ItaSasu. This is not your usual Uchihacest fic. If you are looking for good, ol' fashioned ItaSasu, please try our other work, Dance With the Devil.
Summary: Sasuke has grown up knowing the truth about the clan massacre, but nothing has been made better for it. Rather than abandoning the village, Itachi has spent the last eight years of his life in ANBU. When he is suddenly discharged, he and Sasuke are forced to pick up life where they left off, but nothing is the same anymore. This is a story of the fine line between love and hate, of atonement, and of desperately trying to find your way back home.


Chapter Two: We've Lost Our Way...

Sasuke was furious, but drunk enough that he was easily pushed along by Itachi's whims. That didn't stop him from voicing his complaints, however. "What the hell makes you think you can tell me what to do?" he demanded angrily. "You were gone for--" he tried to remember just how many years it had been, and came up blank, "--years, and you think you can waltz back into my life and order me around?"

"The fact that I'm older than you, and will have custody of you for another year and a half," Itachi snapped right back, opting against taking the back streets on the way home in favor of getting them there faster. "And the fact that I spent ten years of my life serving ANBU, so I think I should know more about it than you."

Sasuke stumbled after Itachi, his anger growing with every word that came out of Itachi's mouth. Itachi did have custody over him, and the very thought made him furious. He'd practically raised himself, had been on his own for years now, then Itachi showed back up when he was sixteen and thought he could run Sasuke's life when he was long past the age of needing any help. "You don't have any right to tell me what to do!"

"I know! I know I have absolutely no right to tell you how to live your life, but I have an obligation to keep you safe!" Itachi yelled back, voice cracking as he shoved Sasuke through the front door of the house and slammed the door shut behind them. "I promised her, damnit! And I'm not going to let your pigheadedness break the last promise I ever made our mother!"

>Sasuke nearly tripped at Itachi's words, grabbing onto his brother's arm to keep his balance. "...What are you talking about?!" he demanded.

"When-- When I came in here to..." Itachi's voice broke completely then and he dragged a hand through his hair, almost tearing at it as he forced the words to come. "When I came to kill our parents, she started... She just... cried and wouldn't stop and she grabbed my hand when I went to tie her up and-- I realized she was scared I was going to hurt you when you came home from school. So I promised her. Told her I'd never. And then she stopped."

The memory made Itachi shudder and he pulled away from Sasuke, arms going around himself to try to make the feeling go away.

Sasuke hated the part of himself that wanted to comfort his brother, wanted to touch his shoulder and tell him it wasn't his fault.

Because it was his fault. It had to be.

"Is that why you didn't kill me?" Sasuke asked instead, trying to keep his voice cold. "Because Mother asked you not to?"

"I intended to spare you anyway," Itachi whispered, opting to leave out the part where he had signed his soul on the dotted line to Danzou to get that deal out of him. He wasn't trying to sound like a hero or noble or anything. Because he wasn't. He was simply a monster pushed to the limit of evil he was willing to commit, and his reasons for sparing Sasuke were selfish enough in their own right. "You weren't supposed to come home from school until later. I had asked your teacher to keep you there. And Mother didn't ask me to spare your life. She asked me to keep you safe."

That distinction was important to Itachi.

"Right." Sasuke couldn't do this right now - or ever, really. "If I'm ever offered the opportunity, I'm joining ANBU," he said, changing the subject. "And it's none of your business what I do with my life." That said, he turned to head back to his room, planning to sleep off the alcohol.

"Sasuke--" Itachi seized Sasuke by the shoulder then, refusing to let him leave. "How do I make you understand?" There was nothing but frustration in Itachi's voice. It overrode the fear, the worry, all the sick, turbulent feelings inside of him because they were all inconsequential. They didn't matter. All that did matter was making Sasuke understand.

Finally, Itachi simply stood back and tore his shirt off.

"Look at me, damnit!" he cursed, gesturing to himself. He hadn't allowed anyone to see him in any state of undress in at least two years, not since he had gained the unsightly burn scars to his left shoulder. Those were really the least of it at this point, though. There were battle scars littering his chest, anything from the thin lines left by garroting wire to the v-shape scars left by thrown shuriken. There were scars that were trademark of interrogation techniques, at least the sloppy ones. The best interrogators left no marks. His body had been torn into so many times the last eight years that it almost ached to move and half the time he could feel phantom pains in places. Nearly every bone in his body had been broken at some point, though none as badly as his ribs. He remembered being a prisoner of war in a Kusa nin camp, where they had cracked at least three of his ribs and refused to let them heal. For months afterward and even now, there were days where he forgot that it wasn't supposed to hurt to breathe.

Sasuke stared at his brother's chest and shoulders, at the scars littering his pale skin, and wondered how many more there were over the covered parts of his body. Enough to atone for the murder of his family family and subsequent abandonment of his little brother? Would there ever be enough?

"The rest," Sasuke said gruffly. "Let me see the rest."

"What...?" Itachi began, then cut himself off, deciding it didn't matter. He would show Sasuke whatever he had to if it would deter him from joining ANBU. The scars on his lower half were not so bad as in his torso, but there were still plenty of them. As a child, Itachi had always been fairly confident in himself, but since enlisting in Root it had become harder and harder to look in the mirror. He supposed it was only fitting. Now he was as ugly on the outside as he was within.

He slid his pants down his hips and let them fall to the ground, stepping out of them so that Sasuke could get a clear look at the testament of what had been done to him in his time spent with ANBU, though he now was looking anywhere but Sasuke, unable to meet his eyes.

Sasuke took an involuntary step forward, a bit unsteady on his feet. The scars were everywhere, but Itachi was still... beautiful. And how dare he be so beautiful when Sasuke was so ugly and dirty and broken. When he was so full of hatred that he was sick with it, and all Itachi seemed to feel was love and remorse.

"I hate you," he whispered brokenly, sliding one hand over Itachi's chest, feeling the jagged scars under his fingers.

Itachi flinched and tried to shy away from the touch, but he willfully refused to let himself step back. He swallowed with difficulty, heart pounding hollowly in his chest beneath Sasuke's warm touch.

"I know," he murmured back, completely accepting of Sasuke's hatred. It felt good to him even, as guilty as that made him feel. He had no right to take comfort in his atonement, but still it felt good. It was a relief to him, because he deserved this and if hating him could lessen Sasuke's burden even a little, then Itachi had no complaints. "I... I know," he echoed quietly, not knowing what else he could say. He didn't want to dirty Sasuke with something as tainted as his love.

"...Good." Sasuke needed his brother to know exactly what was motivating him as he crushed their lips together. He needed Itachi to know that this wasn't love, this was hate. This was revenge and this was anger and this was Sasuke willfully destroying the last shreds of his childhood.

He pulled their bodies together with one hand on the small of Itachi's back. Sasuke could feel every inch of Itachi's form, strong but just a hair too thin, pressed against his, and for the first time in his life he had all the control. He had instigated this and somehow he knew - he knew - that Itachi wouldn't try to stop him.

Every muscle in Itachi's body tensed, breath completely stalling as everything inside him reeled to a grinding halt. Only his heart stubbornly went on beating, the sound of his pulse racing in his ears near deafening. There was a moment of blind, thoughtless panic as his body instinctively braced for pain, his base instincts overriding all rational thought. He couldn't think just yet, couldn't understand the meaning of Sasuke's lips on his, holding them so tightly together.

I hate you.

The sound of Sasuke's voice was all that echoed in Itachi's mind, became his very identity. That was all he was. The sum of Sasuke's hate. An object of contempt and vengeance. Something very small and very fragile inside of him shuddered deeply at the thought, then vanished altogether.

Vaguely, Itachi thought that it might have been whatever hope he had still harbored that there was ever any going home for someone like him.

But it was gone, and he knew well where he stood in this.

Swallowing, he tried to calm the erratic beating of his heart. It was too much to ask of him to respond to Sasuke. It was all he could do not to push him away, because every instinct that had kept him alive these last eight years demanded that he fight this. It barely felt like Sasuke upon him, but he clutched onto that thought. That this was Sasuke, his brother, his world, and no matter to what ends, if Sasuke hurt him, at least he would deserve it.

So he held still, only choking slightly on his own breath. He let Sasuke's words cycle through his head without stop, branding into him.

I hate you.

Because somehow, that made it better.

Sasuke was irrationally angry when it became apparent that Itachi wasn't responding. He hadn't even expected his brother to respond, not that he'd given either of them much time to think about it. But the reality of it, that Itachi wasn't responding - meaning he didn't want this and was only allowing it - made Sasuke furious. It was only further driving home the fact that Itachi was so damn perfect he would allow his own brother to rape him if only that would somehow make Sasuke happy.

"I hate you," Sasuke said again, breathing the words against his brother's lips, sharing his anger between them before shoving his brother away from him, in the direction of the couch. Everything was wrong, he could feel it and he hated himself just a little bit more for it, but he still, finally, had control over something. And he intended to exercise it.

Itachi stumbled, only half aware of himself anymore. There was simply too much feeling, inside and out. There was the blind, irrational terror that gripped every part of him, the part of him that had been hurt so many times that it would rather shut him down than let him go through any more of it. His training fought against it, years of conditioning that made him capable of breaking his own hand to escape his restraints. There was the disbelief that this could actually be happening, that of all the ways Sasuke might have made him pay for his crimes it would be this. There was the grief, deep in his heart, mourning the loss of his hope. Mourning that the last remaining quiet corner of his mind would soon be replaced with this. That silent, peaceful space of pale dawn light streaming through the window, falling gently on Sasuke's face. His brother curled up in his arms.

He had never dared to dream of an intimate relationship with his brother, but he knew that he had always wanted it. Sasuke was all that there had ever been for him, after all. There was no one else in the world to Itachi but him, and if it was not to be him... it would not be anyone at all.

Itachi deserved this though, he knew. It had been almost laughable for him to take comfort in a daydream of the person who's life he had irreparably ruined. It wasn't fair.

He deserved this.

Shivering, Itachi let himself be as clumsy and unsightly as he felt, falling to his knees just short of the couch.

Sasuke found that it was easier for him to be cruel to his brother when he couldn't see his face. Then, he could imagine that it was the Itachi from that night he was hurting, and not his brother, the Itachi that he still loved against his will.

He curled his fingers in long strands of black hair and yanked Itachi up, turning him and shoving him against the couch, the last of his reservations fleeing him now that all he could see was that pale skin, dark hair shielding his brother's face. He leaned over Itachi, pressed against him from behind and aligning his chest with the other's back as he kissed, then bit roughly at the junction of Itachi's neck and shoulder.

"S-Sasuke--" Itachi gasped out in pain, shutting his eyes tightly as he tried to hold on to where he was and who he was with. Against all reason, the fact that it was Sasuke who was doing this to him gave him comfort. He remembered the cold terror of enemy ANBU dragging him across his cell by the hair, the bite of their weapons on him, of being strapped down in cold water for days. Every act of violence on his body reminded him of every other, but somehow...

Somehow Sasuke soothed him even in this. Because he deserved it. Because deep down, he wanted this. He knew this was as close to Heaven as he could ever go.

Sasuke flinched when he heard his name on his brother's lips. "No," he hissed, impulsively moving his hand down beneath Itachi and wrapping his fingers around his length. He wasn't sure whether he was distracting Itachi or himself.

"Don't talk," he growled, trying to stroke Itachi to hardness. He couldn't do this if Itachi made him face it: that this was him torturing his brother this way. As long as he simply had the vague idea of revenge in his mind, of that other Itachi and pushing all of his pain into him, then this was still okay and he would be able to live with himself in the morning.

Itachi only dropped his head and bit down on his lip at that, stifling the startled sound he unwillingly made at the feeling of Sasuke's hand on him. He was used to taking orders, but what made this easier was that he wanted to take them from Sasuke. Anything Sasuke wanted, as long as he could give it. If Sasuke asked him to carve his own heart out of his chest, he would find a way to.

Breaths coming rapidly sharper and less steady, Itachi braced himself against the couch, fingers digging into the cushion below him. His body offered Sasuke no resistance, as wrong and horrible and twisted as this act might have been to the both of them. Itachi had spent so long isolated and starved for affection that this was almost an act of kindness to him.

The willingness of Itachi's body mollified Sasuke, if only slightly. He continued stroking him as he slid two fingers into his mouth, getting them wet to prepare his brother. Once he was ready, he gave Itachi no warning before pushing the first one in, all the way to the last knuckle.

"Ah--!" The sound left Itachi breathlessly, shoulders trembling as he choked down the cry of Sasuke's name that had almost been upon his lips. The rush of pleasure he felt at the rough intrusion filled him with shame, knowing that he did not have normal reactions to such things as pain. At least, not anymore. Not for a long time now. He could not count the times he had been captured over the course of his time spent in ANBU and ridiculed for this fact, though in retrospect it might have saved him more than once.

A soft sob tore itself from Itachi's throat instead, filled with self-loathing and despair. He didn't want Sasuke to know these things about him. He wanted to ask, beg Sasuke to stop. To stop this. To find some other way to express his hate. But Itachi knew he did not deserve to be spared any of it.

Sasuke was relatively surprised by Itachi's reaction. He'd felt the way Itachi had grown harder in his hand, though he'd been expecting the opposite reaction. He sneered, moving his finger in and out before curling it just slightly. "You like that," he said, cruel laughter in his voice. "The pain." It wasn't a question.

Itachi shuddered at Sasuke's words, eyes widening briefly before he tightly shut them again, hanging his head low with shame. The cruelty in Sasuke's voice cut into him deeply, made him feel shame for who and what he was more acutely than ever before. And even despite with how sick the thought of himself made him feel right then, his body still responded earnestly to Sasuke, to the feeling of Sasuke's finger moving sharply inside him. He could feel himself aching for more, and the thought of it only made him hate himself further.

Sasuke didn't wait long before pushing a second finger in beside the first. Now that he knew Itachi liked the pain, he didn't bother holding back. He thrust both fingers inside roughly, scissoring them inside of Itachi, stretching him. All the while, he continued stroking him, pressing kisses along his shoulder, his soft laughter cooling the damp flesh beneath his lips.

The slow, burning throb of pleasure wrought a low moan out of Itachi that he choked off into a sob. He as so conflicted by the feelings waging war inside of him that he barely knew what he was doing anymore. Sasuke inside of him, Sasuke's hands upon him, Sasuke's lips trailing kisses over his neck and shoulder, the mere thought of it electrified him, made his face flush and pulse quicken. Sasuke's rough treatment of him made him shiver, made his body tense and ache and pound for more. And all of it made him ill. He was so pathetic that it nauseated him. He didn't know how Sasuke could stand to touch him but for the hatred.

Every anguished breath Itachi took, every slight movement of his body seemed to be begging Sasuke for more. The younger Uchiha was beyond surprised by his brother's reactions, now, and instead focused solely on exacting his revenge, on appeasing that aching emptiness within himself demanding that he make Itachi pay.

"You've wanted this, haven't you?" Sasuke hissed, tilting his head so that his lips brushed against Itachi's ear with each whispered word. "How sick is that? You've been dying, all this time, to be fucked by your little brother..." He pulled his fingers out, releasing Itachi's arousal in favor of gripping his own, pressing it against where his fingers had been only moments before. He rocked his hips teasingly, not using quite enough pressure to push inside.

Nails scraping against the coarse cover of the couch, Itachi whimpered brokenly as he tried desperately not to rock back against Sasuke. His entire body shook with the effort, every breath that passed his lips ragged and gasping. Sasuke's accusations unsettled him deeply with their truth, made him realize how much more vile and wrong he had always been in their bluntness. Tears blurred his vision, burned at the corners of his eyes until he couldn't even keep them open anymore, and he defeatedly buried his face against the arm of the couch, sobbing quietly into it.

Sasuke pushed into his brother in one sharp thrust, if only to drown out the quiet sounds of his sobbing. He shuddered at the sudden, incredible tightness surrounding him and pressed his forehead against Itachi's shoulder. The other times-- he'd been in the opposite position. He'd had no idea it could ever possibly feel so...

"Nngh... Itachi..."

The sound of Sasuke uttering his name made Itachi briefly tense, sobs momentarily stalling in favor of something sharper, the abrupt feeling of his own brother buried so deeply inside him driving out all other thought, all other feelings but that. It felt so, impossibly good that Itachi thought he might lose what was left of his fractured mind to it. That complete, blissful silence, a place that was only them, only this pain and this pleasure. Another sob left him, but this one was of nothing but gratitude, of overwhelming relief.

For a few moments, Sasuke could do nothing but hold still, hanging precariously in that perfect place with Itachi. Then it shattered at the soft sound of Itachi's sob, and Sasuke took a shaking breath. He opened his eyes, lashes fluttering against Itachi's skin, then pulled back just slightly before thrusting shallowly back inside. It was so good... too good... surrounded by his brother, feeling nearly every inch of Itachi's body, skin so similar to his own but littered with scars...

Groaning Itachi pressed himself back against Sasuke, moving desperately in time with the thrusts. He clawed into the couch with one hand in his frustration, feverishly wanting more, wanting Sasuke to take him harder, deeper, to truly violate him with this. Itachi could find release only in that, in his punishment, in his penance. The moment of solace he had taken in this left him stricken with guilt, deeply abashed at himself for taking comfort in something that he knew Sasuke intended for him as a punishment.

Sasuke continued moving against his brother, his thrusts becoming faster and rougher as he became accustomed to the feeling. He slid one hand down, gripping Itachi's hip so tightly that he felt sure there would be finger-shaped bruises marring that pale skin by morning. But he wanted that - he wanted to mark Itachi, to take his revenge out of Itachi's flesh. He needed a physical reminder to be left behind, so that every time Itachi felt the ache of that bruise he'd know exactly what it was for and that he deserved that pain.

Itachi's breaths quickened with the thrusts, panting them out in pleasure that was underscored heavily with pain. He wanted to cry out for Sasuke again, wanted to beg him for mercy and give him release before the warring sensations within him overwhelmed him, but he knew he was forbidden from speaking. Above that, the things he wanted to say shamed him so deeply that there was no way he could bring himself to anyway.

Sasuke, please. Harder. Hurt me. I want to be broken by you, only you. Come inside me. I want all of you.

The thought of it alone made Itachi shudder with shame that only aroused him further. It was a vicious cycle of hate that fed into itself. He bit down on his lip once more instead, hard enough that he tasted blood.

Sasuke was growing closer to release with each thrust, unused to this tight, hot sort of pleasure, but he'd be damned if Itachi didn't come as well. He reached beneath them again, gripping Itachi's length and pumping it in time with his thrusts. He finally allowed his eyes to flutter closed, close enough now that he didn't need the sight of his older brother writhing beneath him.

Understanding that Sasuke was close and reaching his limit himself, Itachi began to rock his hips sharply to meet each thrust, forcing himself not to think about how he must look right now, how wanton, how whorish he must feel to be taking in his brother as readily and deeply as he was. The pleasure was almost blinding, just a sear of white-hot pain meeting white-hot pleasure, so intense that Itachi almost forgot to breathe. He had intended to hold out for Sasuke, but it got ahead of him, tearing the world out from under him in an instant. His entire body tensed as he spilled into Sasuke's hand, a gasping, shapeless cry leaving his lips. The orgasm lingered, and Itachi clawed into the couch, drawing in his breaths sharp and shallow, body still shaking with the aftershocks.

Sasuke didn't last much longer; not with his older brother beneath him, shuddering and gasping, his release still warm on Sasuke's fingers. He spilled himself inside of Itachi, nails digging into Itachi's back, his only sound a shaking exhalation of Itachi's name against that scarred skin.

He remained that way for several moments, resting half of his weight on Itachi, hips twitching in the last waves of his orgasm. Even when it passed, he remained, the reality of what had taken place slowly sinking in.

Itachi did not move from where he was, able to focus only on his breathing which slowly evened out. He was staring a bit listlessly at his surroundings, shivering now, trying to take in where he was and what he had done. What Sasuke had discovered about him. All the things he could never take back. The would-be familiar shadows of the living room furniture, the hanging on the wall, the small table, the lamp, all looked so very foreign to him in that instant.

Home did not feel very much like home anymore.

It was several minutes before Sasuke finally pulled out. As he stood there, watching Itachi bent over the couch, looking almost like the whore he'd thought himself to resemble only a few minutes before, Sasuke felt surprisingly... empty. He would have expected guilt, remorse, shame, or at least that constant hatred, but he didn't feel anything at all.

It was a relief. An eight year burden lifted from his shoulders with one simple act.

He took hold of Itachi's arm, surprised that he was able to touch him without that surge of anger and hate. "Are you okay?"

Itachi blinked his eyes slowly, trying not to flinch from the touch as he pushed himself up a little, then shook his head and curled back up as he was. He didn't really want Sasuke to touch him any more than he had or... or look at him or be around him or anything right now. He felt thoroughly defiled, dirty. Everything ached, and the aches became sharp pain the moment he tried to move too much.

"H..hurts," he managed to stammer, shutting his eyes briefly before he opened them again only to glance away. He couldn't bring himself to look at Sasuke right now because he was afraid of what he might see, of how Sasuke might be looking at him right now. His own guard was broken down entirely, shattered. Even pretending to be okay was beyond his ability just now, and all he wanted was to be alone again.

"I... I'd like to sleep here tonight."

If that's okay, the silence that followed the statement echoed.

Sasuke stared at his brother, and finally the emptiness was replaced with guilt. He'd emptied all of his hatred into Itachi, and now all he saw was his older brother, in pain because of him.

"...On the couch? I can help you to your room, if you want." Part of him was demanding that he apologize, but even now, he couldn't.

He wasn't sorry. He felt guilty, but he didn't think he'd ever be able to feel remorse.

"N-no--" Itachi began a little too quickly, unable to handle the thought of Sasuke's hands on him, even just to help him up the stairs. Being that close, being seen in this state, it all just... It wasn't even that he did not want to be touched by Sasuke. That wasn't it. He wanted to be touched by Sasuke, which was bad, and-- Beyond that, just... the thought of being handled by Sasuke again right now was a little bit hard to think about the way a bright light was hard to stare into. Itachi shied away from it.

He was so sure that if he just... slept for a while and got to be alone for a while, in the morning he could have a shower and change and...

Things would be better.

Sasuke closed his eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath before opening them again. If Itachi didn't want to move right now, he wouldn't force him. He could tell that Itachi didn't want to be touched, so instead he pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and draped it over his brother. That done, he went into the room he'd prepared for Itachi and got a pillow, then brought it back and set it down next to the couch, in case Itachi decided he wanted it.

"You should remember where the bathroom is," he said. "If you wake up before me, there is plenty of food in the kitchen. You can have anything you want. I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight," Itachi managed to remember to say, glad for the blanket because it made him feel much less exposed. He tugged it up a little, drawing it up around his neck, and then shut his eyes. Just a few hours, he thought to himself. Enough to rest, to get himself together. But then he had to wake before Sasuke, to wash up, to try to get his thoughts sorted.

Because he had to be okay again, as soon as he could manage it. He couldn't let Sasuke join ANBU. Everything else was water under the bridge. He deserved it. It didn't matter.

That single matter, though, he couldn't let go of.

No matter what, Sasuke had to stay safe.