Controlfreak

Hmm...standard disclaimers apply. I very obviously do not own Naruto. This isn’t my first fanfic but it has been a few years since I last posted one. This is also my ‘transition’ story that took me from writing only SasuNaru to writing only Uchihcest. Still don’t know whether or not I’ll post any of it... ^^

Warnings: Gay sex with violent undertones and incestuous thoughts. Wouldn’t my mom be proud x_x

Thank you to Pesha, who beta’d this, and Suukou who helped me figure out how to label it ::grin:: They’re both totally kickass and need to be checked out the moment you finish reading THIS mess.

Why you?

The question hangs unspoken on my parted lips. His eyes are fluttering and I know he hears nothing but the pounding of his blood in his ears – even if I spoke, he wouldn’t hear it. The words probably wouldn’t make sense to him anyway.

He doesn’t know why seeing him causes my blood to boil and my heart to ache in fury. He doesn’t know that I need to see him like this, that I need to do this for anything to make sense.

He controls nothing, in this. I can hold both of his hands in only one of mine, my hands are slender but I’m stronger. His face is flushed and slick with sweat; I can tell it’s pain that twists his lips but the soft moans I hear say otherwise. I know that to stop now would send a cry of protest from those lips, and it is only then that my blood cools.

When I know that he lives for nothing more than the next thrust of my hips and touch of my free hand – that -this- is when I can be at peace.

When I know that he is weak, that he is only feeling and he is…

He is under my control – he is mine.

Not yours. Itachi.

Naruto’s eyes open slightly to look at me as I’m smiling, but I glance away. I control him but I can’t bear to see him, to meet his blue gaze when I possess him. Because…it’s not what I want to see.

I close my eyes, continuing my movements mechanically. I feel nothing.

I see red, then. Red like blood and drops of oil – I see the Sharingan and my blood turns again to fire. I push harder into him, and feel him shift against me.

He’s tired; I’m carrying this on for far too long. I reach forward and touch his fevered brow with a strange kind of tenderness – he leans into that touch as if he’s starved for it. Weak.

Why you? I think again, even more angrily. What about you is worthy of his attention?

I’m touching his chest, fingernails cutting red crescents in his sun-kissed skin. I want to leave a mark. Something, anything – something he will always see and always remember. But Naruto doesn’t scar. He never has. I’ve begun to wonder if he’s even aware of my attempts to hurt him. I know that by the time I’m finally done, the wounds will be gone.

So maybe there’s something special about Naruto after all – not that Itachi will ever see it like I do.

Oh yes, Itachi.

I know that it isn’t Naruto I want here, begging and moaning and loving, hating with every touch and rough thrust into his body…but it’ll do. I want the red, blood-like Sharingan piercing into my black eyes. I want them filled with pain and fear. I want his white skin so I might ribbon it with blood and his black hair to caress as I kill him so slowly…

I’ll feel it. I’m positive.

If I could take just one thing from you, brother…

My pale hand is buried in Naruto’s blonde hair, I pull his head back towards the ceiling and finally dare to look at him. My expression softens into a smile as I look down at him, broken down by feeling, his eyes overflowing with lust, mouth whispering nonsensical things.

I think, not for the first time, of killing him.

I don’t really want him dead, and if I could help it, I would rather not. But if for just one moment I truly believed that by killing Naruto I would be any closer to achieving my goals…

I touch his chest, feel his heartbeat. It’s like a frantic animal caught in a trap, it beats manically under his ribs. A heartbeat – just one and I would kill him.

Would you come for me then, Itachi? Would I brthyrthy of your attention then? Or if I find another member of the Akatsuki – if I promised them Naruto if only for the chance to fight you, control you, kill you…

I shivered at the thought, and opened my eyes to the boy beneath me. He lets me touch him, kiss him, even lets me fuck him and I don’t even know why.

And, I think as he finally surrenders and comes, a spill of pale fluid on his tan, scarless stomach, I don’t care.

I press my mouth to his as I release, feel him sigh against my lips. I bite him to taste his blood on my tongue. No, I don’t care why he lets me do this, I don’t feel it – I do this because I need to. I need to control him. So I do. It’s…Itachi that I want. Itachi I want to bite and scar and utterly strip of control.

Itachi, who in one moment, took everything that meant anything and reduced it to nothing. Itachi who broke down my world and rebuilt it around himself alone, the arrogant asshole. He took my ability to feel, to care – nothing can touch me because I’m practically dead. My heart beats only to the thought of his heartbeat, of stopping it with my bare hands.

Itachi, I think strangely, as Naruto nestles sleepily at my side, I have to kill you.

I’ll feel nothing until I do.