Questionable Loyalty

A/N: When I began writing this fic, I had the entire plot in my head, but I had no idea that it'd be so damn large. T_T I hope you're not bored yet, people.



CHAPTER 42







“Pein!” Kakashi exclaimed when he burst into the red-head’s office. His lover looked up and raised an eyebrow at the Jounin’s worried expression.



“What’s wrong?”



“It’s Itachi.” Kakashi said and was about to start explaining but the man was already up and moving, walking with fast, brisk strides to the door, his quicksilver eyes cold and shuttered. Kakashi hurriedly followed.



“He’s almost catatonic.” He managed to say at they reached Kisame and Itachi’s front door. Pein opened it without knocking and entered, heading straight to the bedroom. Kakashi stayed by its door and watched him as he approached Kisame and Itachi, putting a hand on the larger man’s broad back. Kisame, who had taken Itachi’s tense, unresponsive form in his arms, looked up at the touch and the frantic expression on his face slackened a little when he saw his Leader.



“Pein-sama…”



Pein crouched next to them.



“It’s okay. You can give him to me now. I’ll take care of him.” And he reached for Itachi’s shoulders. Kisame hesitantly began to let go.



“It’s okay, Kisame.” Pein repeated, his tone calm and soothing.



Finally, the Mist nin nodded sharply and carefully transferred Itachi into Pein’s embrace. It occurred to Kakashi that this was the first time when he noticed that the brunette was so very small – doll-like and frail, he seemed engulfed even when in Pein’s embrace, and the Akatsuki Leader was not a large man.



Kisame stood up and stared down at the pair with a worried expression but said nothing. Pein was seated on the ground, Itachi in his lap, still as curled up and empty-eyed as he had been the whole time. The red-head reached and gently grasped his chin, turning his face so their eyes could meet – the bleeding red of the Sharingan and his own strange quicksilver gaze, his hand caressing the Uchiha’s cheek. The cold, petrified horror on Itachi’s face slowly began to disappear and he appeared to gradually relax, the blood being replaced by regular tears. His stiff muscles also relaxed and he sagged like a rag doll in Pein’s arms, burying his bloodied face in his shoulder and wrapping his arms around him, clutching for dear life. Pein turned his head and pressed his cheek on Itachi’s soft, sable hair, his hand running through it as if he were petting a kitten.



Kakashi watched as if mesmerized by the sight. His gaze moved to Kisame and took in his entire figure – the broad shoulders had drooped in despair, the ever present smirk gone from his tired face. He was trying to appear calm but Kakashi could see the despair in his eyes and for a moment wondered if it was because he was witnessing his lover being so intimate with another man, but there was no jealousy there, nor anger – only grief. Sluggishly, the Mist Nin turned to him and whispered:



“Let’s go in the other room. They’ll stay like this for a while.”



Kakashi silently followed him out and back in the living-room. Kisame sat down on the gaudy couch, put his elbows on his knees and covered his face in his hands. For the Jounin it was very difficult to reconcile the images of the vicious, controlled warrior, the gracious host and this image of a man without hope. Without thinking, he sat next to him and tentatively put his hand on his shoulder.



“What just happened?” He finally asked.



Kisame sighed and ran his hands through his spiky hair:



“He was having another hallucination.” He said.



“He’s been hallucinating?”



The large man nodded.



“More and more.”



Kakashi thought about the blood running from Itachi’s eyes and his own discovery about the effects of the Mangekyou on the body of the one who used it.



“It’s his Mangekyou, isn’t it? It’s causing all this?”



Kisame nodded again.



“It’s killing him, isn’t it?” Kakashi pressed.



“One day at a time.” Kisame replied, his tone was dejected as he looked.



“How long?”



“…Less than an year.” It was said so softly that Kakashi almost didn’t hear it. He felt a sharp pang of regret and grief, which turned into bitterness as he thought that Konoha’s leaders were the cause of all this suffering.



Suddenly Kisame reached and with a broad, furious gesture swept everything on the table to the floor – the cups and utensils clattered loudly as they scattered, but he ignored it, grabbed the edge of the table and turned it over and kicked it away with a roar of rage.



Kakashi watched the display in surprise at the sudden change of mood, but didn’t try to stop him. He knew that for a man like Kisame feeling helpless against an enemy he couldn’t even strike at must be pure torture.



Panting, the Mist Nin remained standing up next to Kakashi until the Jounin reached and wrapped his hand around the other’s large, sword-callused fingers.

“Please sit back down, Kisame.” He said.



He looked down at him and met Kakashi’s single charcoal eye, then finally nodded and sat back down on the sofa.



“I’ve never felt so helpless in my entire life.” He muttered. “I cannot even be the one who brings him out of that state. I don’t have that kind of power.”



“What was Pein-sama doing?” Kakashi asked curiously. Pein had said that he was helping Itachi, but he had never explained how he was doing it and the Jounin hoped that Kisame would tell him. Indeed, the other man looked at him incredulously at that question.



“You mean, Pein-sama hasn’t told you about his ability?”



“He seems to have plenty of those, Kisame.” Kakashi answered seriously.



“Kakashi, Pein-sama’s a telepath.” The other blurted out.



“You mean… like the Yamanakas?”



It took a moment for the other Nin to go through the list of notable clans in his head until he finally remembered that name and the clan’s characteristics.



“Like them, yes, but much more powerful.” He explained. “He doesn’t need to leave his body in order to touch another’s mind, let alone inhabit it.”



Pein hadn’t deigned to tell him this. Suddenly he was filled with a bitter suspicion. It must’ve been written on his face because Kisame said:



“Pein-sama would never use telepathic compulsion to make someone cooperate with Akatsuki. Not on high-ranking agents, anyway. And he certainly wouldn’t do it to you, Kakashi.”



Kakashi was looking at the mess on the floor.



“How do you know that?”



“Because I can see the way he looks at you. The way he talks to you. I am not talking about sex. For some reason, he trusts you enough to allow you to see the person behind the role of the Akatsuki leader. The only person around he’s ever been this open was Konan-sama, and she’s dead.”



Konan. That must be the blue-haired girl from the photograph in Pein’s home. Pein was clammed up completely whenever Kakashi tried to ask him again about either of his friends, his grief over their loss still aching and fresh even after all this time. Kakashi could understand that kind of grief – and it usually came hand in hand with guilt and shame. His lover had never mentioned anything about the way either of them had died, but the Jounin had begun to suspect that for some reason he blamed himself.



“You should never doubt Pein-sama.” Kisame told him.

Kakashi nodded. So far, Pein had given him no reason to doubt him, about anything. He was about to say something when a soft, shuddering moan interrupted his thoughts. In a second there was another and now his curiosity was perked. He got up and quietly moved to the door to peek in the bedroom. When he caught the sight inside his eye widened – not so much in surprise this time, but in helpless arousal.



Itachi was sprawled on the bed, his clothes strewn around him, long, milky thighs spread wide and gently clutched by Pein’s graceful fingers. The red-head’s head was bobbing in his lap, and from his angle Kakashi could clearly see Itachi’s hardness going and out of that succulent mouth. Pein had already lost his shirt but still wore his pants but they were undone at his fly, his other hand moving needily between his legs while he pleasured the other man. He was on his knees on the bed, head and shoulders pressed low so he could suck Itachi off, which in turn made his delectable, taut ass jut high in perfect display for the Jounin.



Kakashi felt a warm breath at the back of his neck and a powerful presence filled the space behind him.



“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Kisame whispered. “The mind-meld leaves them both yearning, especially Itachi, and it’s something only your lover can satisfy. I love watching them.” The Mist Nin explained, his large hands coming to rest on Kakashi’s shoulders and rubbing the tense muscles there.



“Relax.” The older man whispered against Kakashi’s hair. “Pein-sama wouldn’t mind if you and I watch, and I don’t mind if you’re seeing Itachi like this. You have already seen him, haven’t you?”



Kakashi nodded mutely. A thin moan left his lips as he watched Pein’s deft fingers travel up the Uchiha’s flushed chest and brushed against his rosy nipples.



Kisame planted a gentle, wet kiss at the nape of his neck, right under his hair-line.



“Wouldn’t Itachi mind?”



“Pein-sama has accepted you as family, Kakashi. It’s enough for him. And for me.”



Kakashi watched, transfixed, as Pein rubbed his cheek against Itachi’s hardness, blissful expression on both their faces. Kisame buried his face in his neck and mouthed the tender flesh there, letting the Jounin feel a hint of his teeth but never coming even close to hurting him. A large hand slid down to his front and cupped his erection through his pants.



“So eager already. You’re as responsive at Itachi.” The man muttered and pulled him back against his massive body. Kakashi sagged helplessly in his embrace as he was fondled and kissed, all the while watching his lover pleasure the beauty on the bed.



The situation was crazy and he knew that he should’ve felt ashamed at being so aroused, so needy in the arms of another man, but he couldn’t bring himself to. All he felt was warmth and pleasure – a safe cocoon wrapped around him and shielding from the harsh reality of the outside world.



‘I don’t want to go from this place, from this moment in time.’ He thought as Kisame’s large, skillful fingers brought him to completion.