Kisame, Koi

COMMENTS: Spoilers from anime episodes 81-85. A brief look at Itachi’s relationship with his brother Sasuke and his partner Kisame. No Uchihacest, but I freaked my sister out when I poked her on the forehead and said, “I’m sorry”; mwahaha... She’s the one who dragged me into Naruto.

If you feel like continuing this or doing spin-offs, let me know. I’ll love you and link you and read and review. Heck, I want to read more fics with these two!

Mood music? L’Arc-en-Ciel’s “l‘heure quiet afternoon mix” on trance- inducing repeat. Romance between S-class mukenins (exiled ninjas), ya know.

DISCLAIMER: Masashi Kishimoto is the mangaka. Hayato Date is the director of the anime, which was released by Studio Pierrot. No profit will be made out of this fan fiction. No copyright infringement was intended. The only thing I own here is this piece of writing.

[EDIT: Published @ FanFiction.Net on June 19, 2004 under author name Kagaya Chou
and Published @ AdultFanFiction.Net on November 17, 2004 under author name Kagaya.]

---

Uchiha Itachi stared blindly at the inn ceiling while earlier events of the day played out behind his sable eyes. Securing the Forth Hokage’s Legacy, Uzumaki Naruto, was supposed to be a simple mission for two S-class exiles, but after a brief, promising start, the ex-Hidden Leaf ninja was left hungry, drained of energy and disappointingly empty handed, while his partner, Hoshigaki Kisame, ex-ninja of the Hidden Mist, was out on reconnaissance.

Naruto was no threat on his own. The soul of the dreaded nine-tailed fox was sealed within the brat’s body, but Kisame’s Samehada, the sharkskin sword, was enough to nullify the half-human, half-demon charka. Catching Naruto would have been child’s play, except the boy wasn’t alone, and his self-appointed guardian was non-other than one of the Legendary Three Ninjas, Jiraiya,

However, Jiraiya was renown for his insatiable lust for women. It did not rub Itachi the right way. “Lust... is such an ugly weakness,” Itachi bitterly thought, but he had no qualms with playing on a pervert’s baser instincts. It was decided that he would utilize the near-extinct Uchiha charm, and Sharingan, to hypnotize some sexy lady into Jiraiya’s direction and thereby lure the man away from his charge.

Kisame had a good laugh watching Itachi try to pick a suitable female candidate. There were many, but none seemed attractive enough for the younger man.

---

Flashing his 17-year-old companion a toothy grin, Kisame’s nasal tone was as ever polite and sardonic. “If, out of all these women here, we can’t find one good looking enough by your high standards, why don’t you disguise yourself and distract the old man while I grab the kid?“

In the alley, Itachi stiffened, turning his eyes from the street to grace Kisame with a mild glare. The thought of seducing a man likely close in age to his late great grandfather made his stomach lurch. Amused, Kisame looked at him with raised eyebrows, and Itachi knew his day just took a turn for the worse.

“Would you allow yourself to be molested by that infamous hentai?” Itachi asked.

Kisame barked a laugh, shaking his head. “He’s too old for my taste, but you...” Itachi blinked as his partner leered, “With your looks, you could easily pull it off as some gorgeous geisha. I couldn’t if I tried.”

Detachedly, Itachi agreed. Physically, Kisame was taller, broader, and stronger than he was. To those who did not recognize them as wanted criminals, Itachi looked positively harmless when he stood next to the older man, although this suited them both.

Whereas Kisame liked being recognized as powerful and dangerous, Itachi valued his privacy and resented unnecessary attention.

Except when Kisame was involved. The man never once looked at the Uchiha with fear or pride or jealousy for his family name, never truly isolated him on a pedestal like everyone else did, as though Itachi was an untouchable genius.

Kisame saw past that.

“Itachi-san?” When the Mist nin called his name that way, Itachi heard his partner out to the end no matter what, even if the topic disturbed him. “What do you say? Jiraiya probably knows a bunch of sex enhancing jutsus that you can easily... learn.”

“Kisame.” Itachi’s felt scandalized by the evident relish in the other man’s voice, but did his best not to look affected. “Let’s keep our objectives clear.” He glanced back onto the streets, brushing a hand through his hair to avoid the older man’s scrutinizing gaze. The next young and remotely attractive woman Itachi laid eyes on soon went straight into Jiraiya’s arms.

Predictably, the pervert left Naruto alone to fend for himself.

“What a waste.” Kisame sighed. Itachi’s silent stare let him fill in the blanks. “She’s hot! You had her willing to do whatever you pleased, and you sent her off to some old guy instead.”

Itachi’s withering gaze just bounced off his partner ineffectively. Despite realizing Kisame had more of a libido than him, Itachi had to clarify. “I thought you prefer younger men.”

“Men, women...” Kisame waved it off, “So long as they look good, Itachi- san. I’m not that picky.”

Itachi nodded, ignoring the dull empty feeling in his stomach. It was probably just the dango he had to skip for chasing after Naruto. So what if Kisame was implying someone was hard to please?

“I am.” Itachi internally winced when he realized he replied. Kisame didn’t need to know his preferences in partners, even if they were partn... er...

“Oh?”

“Enough talk.” Although Kisame’s interest was... not unwelcome, it was disconcerting. Itachi quickly turned, eager to drop the subject. “We mustn’t leave Naruto- kun unattended. Let’s go.” They made their way towards the fox’s temporary lair in silence.

And as they walked up the stairs, Itachi’s day went steadily down hill.

---

Jiraiya returned too soon, performing some perverted summoning that turned the walls, the floor and the ceiling into thick, claustrophobic stomach muscles, pulsing, putrid and acidic.

Black eyes shut tightly as Itachi tried to block out the memory of nearly being digested. Was he really hungry? They barely escaped with their lives.

Was he scared?

Itachi denied it. He told himself everything would be all right once he was well rested. He just couldn’t help feeling ashamed and annoyed at himself for calling the retreat. Itachi drastically underestimated the old man, because it proved difficult not to. After all, he had the misfortune of knowing another one of the Three personally, and the man called Orochimaru did not... inspire much confidence for his old teammates or himself.

Neither did Uchiha Sasuke.

With a silent sigh, Itachi pulled the sheets over his shoulder as he turned to his side on the bed. The thought of his younger sibling made him depressed.

Sasuke’s intervention took him by surprise. The young Leaf nin was still so weak, Itachi couldn’t understand why the boy even dared to challenge him for a fight. The results were... exasperating, exhausting.

Kisame was taking an awful long time; he better be buying food. Itachi knew he would stop brooding when his partner returned.

Having mastered his Sharingan at the age of 8, was it too much for Itachi to hope that Sasuke would manage it by now? Was their 5 years’ separation, 5 years’ age difference, still a gap too far and wide to cross?

Itachi was cruel and Sasuke deserved punishment. The raw hatred in the boy’s eyes pained him, but was still not enough, not yet--Itachi frowned--to kill.

Maybe the boy just had phenomenal bad timing when he was concerned, always late, or early enough to get in his nii-san’s way. Itachi was relieved Sasuke actually knew how to use his own Sharingan, although it was still embarrassingly underdeveloped. If the boy could tap into his full potential, Itachi was sure Sasuke would quite literally be the death of him... someday.

Today however, he was no more than a sidetracking nuisance.

Between Sasuke and Jiraiya’s intervention, the mission was a complete failure. Just thinking about it gave Itachi a headache. He foolishly allowed himself to be forced into using up valuable charka while fighting them. Now, he couldn’t use his Sharingan if he wanted to, and he was so tired he couldn’t sleep.

Itachi recognized the sound of Kisame’s footsteps from the corridor, tensed then minutely relaxed. Closing his eyes, he tried to fall asleep. Kisame acted surprisingly patient, but Itachi knew the man had been waiting all day for a chance to talk, no doubt, about their job, Itachi’s unusually poor performance, and things Itachi wanted to talk about, say, never.

Kisame swung the door open and sauntered in, kicking the door shut again before locking it. Nudging off his shoes, he walked over to his bed and removed his hat and coat. There was a pause and Itachi could feel those sharp eyes on him.

A moment later, Kisame snorted and moved past their beds, placing a paper bag on the wooden table. As he set the food out, Itachi identified the smell of green tea, cooked eel on rice, and seafood tempura.

His stomach betrayed him.

“You’re up then.” Itachi could hear Kisame’s smirk. He opened his eyes to find the older man walking over. “Dinner is served, Itachi-san. Are you planning on eating at the table with me, or can you move out of bed yet?”

Slowly, Itachi propped himself up, closing his eyes as he debated his answer. His muscles hurt from strenuous charka use, but the suffering was warranted. Kisame cautioned him more than once not to overdo it with his Sharingan. It was well meaning advice, but when the Uchiha family was concerned, Itachi listened to no one but himself.

“Eyes still hurting?” Itachi didn’t have the energy to glare at Kisame for asking when he thought the answer obvious. When he focused on his partner again, the older man was seated on the edge of the bed beside him. Kisame’s smile was understanding, but unsympathetic. “Keep your eyes closed then. I can feed you.”

“No.” Itachi broke his silence streak immediately, flustered. The man seemed to derive too much pleasure from his weakened condition. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll eat at the table.”

His partner just watched him with a raised brow, and Itachi had no idea why. He had a feeling he didn’t want to know.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” The older man asked.

Warily, Itachi uttered, “You’re sitting on the blanket.”

“Che.” The large man shook his head and stood up, brushing off some dust from his pants before walking away. Closing his eyes again, Itachi could hear the man sitting down on one of the two chairs. The food remained untouched.

Silently, he thought, “Kisame doesn’t have to buy me food. He doesn’t have to wait for me to eat.” Itachi ran a hand through his long black hair, frustrated. Not looking at anywhere in particular, least of all in his partner’s direction, he got out of bed, padding over to his chair on bare feet.

Sticky balls of sweet dango greeted Itachi on the table. He blinked and looked to Kisame, who grinned back.

Itachi knew Kisame liked sweet stuff. They both did. But the big guy didn’t like buying it himself because people looked at him funny, like they were questioning his masculinity. Itachi never experienced that problem... He preferred not to dwell on it, wondering whether Kisame ended up killing someone for starring again.

He supposed Kisame wanted to hear a thank you too, but the words felt awkward in his head. Itachi let the moment pass.

The older man leaned an elbow on the table and rested his chin upon his palm. “You’re not hungry?”

“...I am.” Itachi paused to study his nails when he picked up a pair of chopsticks, frowning.

Kisame couldn’t resist, “You must have chipped the polish when you were mercilessly beating up your weak little brother.”

The statement earned him a brief glance from Itachi and then more silence as the young man started to eat, hooded eyes staring in front at the table unseeingly.

“Itachi-san,” Kisame waited until his partner looked at him. “Why did you spare him of all your clan?”

The Sharingan master closed his eyes, chewing his food slowly before swallowing. “I fight to measure myself. My little brother wasn’t worth fighting at the time.”

“He still isn’t...” Kisame muttered. For a while longer, they ate in silence, Itachi refusing to answer useless statements.

Distantly, the Uchiha recalled that time when he waited in the evening for his brother to return home from school. He remembered watching the little boy, who loved and admired him like no other, run through the empty streets. The child’s anticipation swiftly turned into anxiety when he saw the trail of corpses littering the road towards their house.

The night of the Uchiha massacre brought Itachi no fond memories, but there had been the satisfaction of knowing that he was indeed the strongest of his clan. The rest of his family was so pathetic and overbearing it made him sick. Only Sasuke...

“Don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me,” the child begged him.

Only Sasuke knew his place, Itachi mused. But that was then. Now, Sasuke was pitiful.

“How nice of you to go easy on him again, Itachi-san.”

"He's still not worth much effort."

“Still?” Kisame’s smirk widened to show sharp teeth. “Ah, it make sense now... You want Sasuke-kun to survive... so that you won’t feel guilty for destroying the entire clan?”

Itachi reached silently for his dango, busying his lips with the soft, sticky soya paste so he didn’t have to answer.

“And you didn’t kill the Copy Ninja when you had the chance either... Because Kakashi could teach your little brother more about how to use his Sharingan?”

“Kisame.” Itachi wiped his mouth carefully when he finished eating, his tone hard. “Don’t be smart with me.” Drinking the rest of his tea, he stood, fighting off the mounting headache talking to Kisame always caused. “I'm going to bed. It's in your best interest to do the same now."

"...Whatever you say, Itachi-san."

Itachi lay back in bed, hoping to ignore Kisame’s presence until he could fall asleep.

It worked for the most part. After filling his stomach, and knowing that he would be watched over if he fell unconscious now... he let his guard down, and fatigue finally took hold.

There was a swish of curtains being drawn and the sound of clothes lazily removed. Itachi jerked up when Kisame unceremoniously straddled his thighs.

“What are you doing?” Itachi growled, defensive.

He stiffened, pulse quickening, as the larger man shifted in position, lunging forward to give him a brutal kiss. Itachi couldn’t stifle a pained moan as Kisame sank his teeth in, tearing his lower lip to gain better access. The taste of tea, saliva and sweet soya bean paste mingled in the Uchiha’s mouth with his blood. Kisame pushed him further against the mattress as he rocked his hips against Itachi's, until the younger man began responding favorably, hardening against the ministrations of those roaming hands and the hot lips on his own.

Kisame pulled back with a feral grin, happy to hear the soft sigh his partner made beneath him. "What am I doing?” He was all too glad he could answer that one. “I'm doing what you said is in my best interest, Itachi-san, going to bed.”

Itachi stayed still, face devoid of emotion. His mouth felt like it was beginning to bruise, and his eyes were pitch black. They would be blood red if he was feeling murderous--or strong enough to hurt someone at any rate.

Kisame deemed it was safe to dip his head down and lick clean the sheen of blood over those inviting lips. “Well, Itachi-san?”

Blinking, Itachi let his tongue ghost over his mouth as he tried to come up with a coherent response. "You're being deliberately obtuse."

"Just doing what you want me to." Itachi remained silent as the older man’s eyes devoured him, challenge in Kisame’s suddenly serious expression. “Tell me to back off if that’s what you want. You know I’ll listen.”

Itachi believed him implicitly, hating the fact he didn’t understand the reasons for their trust in each other.

He gasped as Kisame kissed the side of his jaw, his cheek, teeth scraping lightly over the hollow of his neck.

“Why me?” Itachi managed. “Why now?”

“Why not?” Kisame whispered over his ear, “I got the perfect opportunity to ask without your Sharingan frying my head, and I always wanted to see what you taste like.”

People lusting for him on sight Itachi could understand, but Kisame, after knowing who he was, what he had done... Itachi had trouble concentrating on the man’s voice as he wondered what his partner had in mind for him all this time.

“So just how picky are you, Itachi-san? After today, I’m sure it’s not women you like... and it’s not about looks with you... is it?”

Kisame’s voice sounded bitter. “No,” Itachi sighed, “it’s not about looks...”

It was about power, which Kisame had in abundance. It was about control; Kisame knew when to let him be in charge, when to push or back down. And ability. He was making Itachi feel so good...

“Kisame,” Itachi gritted out regrettably. “I’m... really tired right now.”

The Mist nin let him go, taking a long look at his partner’s face before smirking again. Itachi hadn’t said no.

“Then rest, Itachi-san. Let me do the work for you."