Nostalgia

Sasuke broke away from the kiss, allowing himself to be pinned against the wall, he closed his eyes, so tired, so tired.
The skilled hands that slipped under his over-sized shirt were warm and comforting, leaving burning trails on his abdomen and chest, eventually sliding the article of clothing off him, and he made a sound, a soft mewl.
“Itachi...” He breathed, the name just rolling off his tongue, so natural, so in place.
Itachi, Itachi, Itachi.
I live for you.
The lips on his throat had increased its vigor at the mention of their owner’s name, eliciting another small sound from the younger Uchiha’s lips.
Itachi, Itachi, Itachi...

Sasuke opened his eyes.
Naruto’s arm was still around his middle, resting at the place where his hips met his waist; Sasuke’s head was propped against Naruto’s chest, the sure, secure breathing of the blonde made him feel safe.
Ebony eyes lowered, resting on the pale hand that lay carelessly on the tanned chest he was leaning against.
Desperate. That was what he was.
That was he always has been.
He tensed as the blonde stirred, the arm around him tightening, pulling him against the Kyuubi container. He made a small noise as his thigh brushed against an extremely awkward place somewhere in Naruto’s nether regions.
“Sasuke...”
His name sounded so right from those wonderful set of lips, the voice that spoke it soft and deep, so mature, so different from the loud, high-pitched vocals he had been so used to hearing from what seemed like yesterday.
Pale fingers reached up to greet those very lips, relishing in their softness, allowing himself a small sense of triumph as he inched closer to the blonde, not waking him, pressing his lips to Naruto’s, sucking on the younger man’s bottom lip almost playfully, planting small butterfly kisses on whiskered cheeks and a firm jaw.
Almost as if the dream had never happened.
“Naruto...” he whispered, trailing a finger over the blonde’s collar bone and down his chest, earning him a small groan and a flutter of eye lashes.
He whispered the younger man’s name again, this time pulling himself up to straddle him, he leaned close enough that their lips brushed, but never touched, chuckling softly when he saw the blonde lean forward a little, as if searching for him.
Like he always did.
Finally, blue eyes met onyx ones, and Naruto had smiled, a bright, happy and lazy smile.
“Good morning to you too.”
Sasuke smiled against his lips, a small one, but a smile nonetheless.
Itachi wouldn’t win.
“Naruto...”
Sasuke’s voice was soft, calm, relaxed.
“Naruto, tell me I’m yours.”
Naruto thought he heard wrong.
“...What?”
Sasuke leaned forward, his entire weight now against the arms on either side of Naruto’s head, a small smug look on his face.
“Tell me I belong to you.”
Blue eyes met onyx ones again, and this time, they didn’t break eye-contact.
Anything, anything.
I live for you.
A strong hand found its way to the Uchiha’s slender nape.
“You’re mine.”
Naruto pulled the Uchiha in for a brutal, passionate kiss, crushing his lips against the Uchiha’s full ones, his insides almost dying of happiness and achievement, his eyes watering with tears that were supposed to have been shed the day Sasuke left.
“You’re mine.”

Gaara sat on the roof, eyeing the slow setting sun; his cold jade eyes were sharp and critical.
The wind combed his hair, softly, gently.

Itachi gathered his cloak around him, making his slow way into a clearing, his eyes a faded ebony that were empty and cold, trying to think and kill that empty, empty feeling that pitted in his heart.
His footsteps were the only sounds that reached his ears as he walked toward the centre of the clearing, setting one foot against the remnants of a dead tree on the ground, he looked up, thinking, before finally deciding on what to do with his present situation.
He was going to get Sasuke back.
…even if it was the last thing he would ever do.
He lowered his head again, his eyes empty except for a certain shimmer, and he set off toward the thicket again, a small smile upon his perfect lips.
Itachi would win again.
Because he always did.

Sasuke settled down on the roof top, pulling his legs up, he rested his chin on his knee, staring off into the nightscape of Konohagakure. Gaara had greeted him the way he would, a small nod as an acknowledgement. There was a reigning silence for a while; they heard the blonde making a lot of noise with his pots and pans while he made dinner.
“So you gave it all up for this.”
Sasuke looked up, surprised.
He didn’t answer, settling for just looking out to the cityscape again.
“...You gave it all up for him.”
Gaara got up, his lithe, muscular form towering over the ebony-haired boy, a small look that said volumes on his features, he touched the side of Sasuke’s face, pulling it against his hip, almost as if he was trying to comfort the other boy. Sasuke didn’t resist.
He didn’t want to.
Gaara’s hands were welcome, and warm. Almost like his mother’s.
“You’re making the right choice, I hope.”
Sasuke opened his eyes slowly, unaware of when he closed them.
“I know I am.”
...is what he wanted to say.
“He loves you.”
“...I know.”
“You have people who are willing to die for you, Uchiha.”
Sasuke closed his eyes again, resting against the hip he was leaning against.
“...You have people who are willing to kill for you.”
Gaara pulled away, running a hand through his red hair, he turned away from the younger man.
He made his way back into the house.
“Take care of yourself, Uchiha.”
He wanted to be able to say he could.

Itachi watched from his vantage point, every movement his little brother made, very gentle comb of his hair by the wind, every calm breath he took.
What had Sasuke done to him?
I can’t live without you.
...It’s not over yet.
It never would be.

Obsession.
He was obsessed.
What was it that drove him to such extremes, again?
The smiles? The laughter? The innocence?
The epitome of everything he wasn’t?
“You can’t turn him into another me.”
“Sasuke’s just not good enough.”
“He’s trying his best.”
“His best just isn’t enough.”
He hated them.
Silently. Secretly. Hated all of them.
He padded across the wooden flooring, not bothering to mute the noise he was making; they knew he was there already.
Fugaku greeted him at the door.
“Welcome back, son.”
Itachi didn’t answer, his eyes instead roaming the room, sweeping across the faces of the Uchiha elders as well as his father.
“Itachi.”
His father’s voice was firm, commanding attention.
His scarlet eyes fell on his father’s face surely.
“Itachi...we know what you’ve been doing.”
He shifted his gaze sharply, now regarding one of the clan elders silently.
“...With Sasuke.”
The teenager’s eyes narrowed.
“Itachi.”
His father looked at him almost apathetically.
“Itachi, we can overlook this tiny fault-“
They called this a fault.
“-we can just pretend it never happened-“
They want me to pretend “we” never happened.
“-and just explain everything to Sasuke. He’s still young, I’m sure he’ll forget it in time-“
They want you to “forget”.
“-We can bury all this sin and no one will ever find out. We just want the best for the both of you, Itachi.”
They called “us” sin.
“We’re giving you another chance.”
Itachi narrowed his gaze; his fist clenched so hard his knuckles were white, his colored nails digging into the soft skin of his palm, hard enough to draw blood.
His plan will fall into action in three days.