Sweetest Blood

Sweetest Blood

By: ladygizarme

Beta’d By: ren

Attention!! I know you may be tempted to skip this whole header and get to the fic already, but please stop and read all the warnings first. I don’t need flames from people that didn’t know what they were getting themselves into.

Disclaimer: If I owned them… well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be appropriate for Shounen Jump… Kishimoto Masashi-sensei created Naruto and all its characters. I’m kidnapping and exploiting them for my own (and hopefully your) sadistic pleasure. I make no money from this, and you’ll make no money from suing me. Not kidding. x_x

Summary: Years after Itachi escapes the clutches of the ancient vamp Orochimaru, he returns home only to find his otouto missing. Can Itachi save Sasuke from the same fate that befell him, or is it already too late? Eventual Uchihacest, AU, VS, Yaoi

Rated NC-17

Spoilers: Only the fact that certain characters from recent manga chapters exist. Other than that, this is completely AU.

Warnings: Well, this story has more warnings than what’s listed in the summary, cuz they wouldn’t all fit on the story page. Here’s a list of the main ones that apply to the story as a whole: AU, WIP, Yaoi (that’s M/M, boy x boy, MANSEX!!, for those of you that don’t know, and if that don’t float your boat, flee now!!), Anal, Oral, HJ, Lime, Lemon, VS (may involve BP and MC), Bond (maybe to a BDSM extent – not sure how descriptive it’ll get yet), Minor/Shouta (mostly in an obsessive-pedophilic-Orochimaru capacity), Slave, Incest (Uchihacest), Violence, Language, Possible Angst (just saying that for good measure… even when I don’t intend to, it seems to sneak its way in, and with this subject matter… yeah…), use of some Japanese (mainly words already commonly used in fanfiction; translated by request or if I think it’s necessary) ; Anyone not sure what all these codes mean can look here for more info: http://resource.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600005247

Don’t like? Don’t read/Don’t flame. I’m not listing all this shit every time. When called for, additional warnings will be listed on the chapter they apply to.

Additional Warnings This Chapter: Oro/Ita (non-con shouta bond rape w/Rim), Het (mentioned in passing, non-descriptive), Ita/Saso & Ita/Dei lime-ishness, Itachi OOC-ness (not exactly intentional, but sort of unavoidable… Itachi’s a little more difficult chara to write, especially in AU, and of course I just had to choose him as a main subject of my first published Naruto fic… Hopefully it’ll get better, but please forgive it for the sake of future Uchihacest!)

A/N: Just wanted to note that the Vampire Lore in this story is a combination of ‘traditional vamp lore’ (similar to what’s seen in the Vampire Chronicles series and Blade the movie, neither of which I own rights to, and I am not using or referencing for anything other than explaining ‘traditional’, so don’t sue!) and my own imagination. As cool as it can be for vamps to walk around in the daylight, I prefer mine as creatures of the night. There may be ‘day walkers’ in here at some point, I haven’t decided yet, but for the most part it’s No Sun For You! Sun Bad!!

Japanese:
Hajimemashite: Pleased to meet you.
Kenjutsu: Sword Method/Technique (basically, the practice of sword arts using a wooden bokken against an opponent)

Now on with the fic! (Finally!!)

Chapter One: The Pulse

He felt dizzy; lightheaded. His eyesight was blurry, his surroundings mere blobs of color and blurred movement, not even having real form. The music of the club pulsed through his veins, making his head throb. The din of the crowd was muffled yet tinny, as if he were underwater listening to a cell phone with a bad connection. He vaguely remembered where he was— a new nightclub Sasori and Deidara had brought him to; The Pulse. However, he had no recollection past the first ten minutes after he’d walked through the doors, and even that was dim.

They’d picked him up, as per the usual Saturday night plans, radio blaring in Sasori’s parents’ ‘borrowed’ car, fake IDs at the ready. They told him they’d heard about a new place— some hot new underground club closer to the Rave scene than a legal establishment probably should be. Nevertheless, that was one of the biggest draws, along with the rumor that the club owner was some rich and powerful hotshot and those that caught his eye were invited back to the VIP rooms where the action really was.

Hindsight being twenty/twenty— that is, it would be if he wasn’t in this weird haze— he might have realized the lack of checking their IDs had been the first warning sign that this place wasn’t exactly on the up and up. But they were 14, in the prime of their carefree and rebellious youth, and had been personally invited by a regular VIP— Yakushi Kabuto.

He’d been their Third Year senpai in their current Junior High when they were First Years (they were Third Years now), and when he recognized Sasori and Deidara while they’d been skipping school (why waste half a perfectly good Saturday in that useless place?)— loitering outside a local convenience store, waiting for the attendant to take his smoke break in the back so Deidara could explode one of his ‘masterpieces’ in the customer toilet— the two had been eager to accept his invite. Or, rather, Deidara had been eager. Sasori had been indifferent, but gave in to Deidara’s enthusiasm just to appease the pony-tailed blonde who was whining excitedly while tugging on his sleeve.

Itachi hadn’t been there, being the one boy in their group that actually attended school— a different one than them, as he’d been tested out of Junior High before his first year was over and now attended a prestigious High School his delinquent friends’ parents couldn’t even think about affording— on a regular basis. Not that he really wanted— or needed— to attend regularly, mind you, but because it was expected of him. It was his duty. He was the student body president and pride of the school, not to mention his family. Honor, pride and duty were enforced and expected of him, and unfulfilled expectations were met with dire consequences. That’s why Itachi found his rebellious release every weekend with his ‘unapproved’ friends. It’s also probably why being let in immediately and handed a drink pre-prepared from the bar didn’t set off alarm bells in his head right away. He’d been all too willing to ignore society’s cautions, especially all his parents’ warnings about the filth of the world unknown to him.

He was not stupid; he was a child prodigy. He knew what was out there, he just didn’t care. He could handle himself; it’s not like he was weak and defenseless. He was a master of several different martial arts and the top student in his kenjutsu class, after all. At his level, surely it didn’t matter that he’d never used it in a real life situation.

Now, though, as he writhed against some unknown surface— barely able to lift or maneuver his limbs— and searched his memory for what was happening to him, he regretted not turning, grabbing his friends and hightailing it out of there as soon as that snakelike freak had approached them at the bar.

‘Orochimaru. That was his name, ne?’ he thought to himself. The room spun faster and he groaned. ‘I only had one drink. Was it drugged?’

A hissing chuckle was released next to his ear, “Hai, Itachi-kun, Orochimaru desu. Hajimemashite. And the drink you’re wondering about wasn’t exactly drugged, it was laced with blood boosters to increase blood volume. Now, if we could get back to business…”

That was when he felt it, the intense pressure at his neck mixed with a piercing pain as fangs ripped into his flesh, allowing warm blood to flow. He felt sick and the world swirled even more as he tried to turn his head and vomit, arms not cooperating to push the bastard away and throat feeling too thick and strained to speak above a whisper, let alone scream. It felt like he’d already been screaming for some time, and apparently his abused larynx had decided to go on strike. He felt the pounding in his head intensify, and realized it was his own erratic heartbeat now rather than the music of the club that beat somewhere outside the room he was now in.

The pain reduced to an ebb matching the pace of his now-weakening pulse, and suddenly he had a moment of clarity where the entire evening’s events flew through his mind’s eye as if they were on fast forward.

The snakelike man approached them at the bar, inviting them to the VIP rooms. Kabuto had put in a good word for them, and they were eager to get the most out of their night and experience everything the club had to offer. Admittedly, Itachi had felt a bit wary of the man, but pushed his hesitation to the back of his mind. Uchiha Itachi did not hesitate or doubt himself. If a problem arose, he was more than capable of handling it. Even a situation where he would have to defend himself or his friends wouldn’t worry him; this guy was much smaller and more sickly looking than any of his peers or senpai had been in his martial arts classes. He would be no trouble at all.

The VIP rooms were dark, lit by candles and a few dim ambient wall sconces. The main room was large, though significantly smaller than the main area of the club, and filled with people sitting on plump, luxuriously upholstered couches, leaning against the walls, and mingling by the private bar. Almost everyone paused what they were doing when the three teens walked in, giving them curious and appraising looks and leers before returning to their prior activities.

A short hallway to one side branched off to another room of similar size, where people were dancing— writhing, really— to the music being pumped into the room through the speakers. The lighting in there was low also, but more artificial— blacklights and the occasional strobe. The room was filled with smoke of various origin, some legal some not.

To the other side of the main room was another hallway branching off to another room. That one had a door, though, and within was filled with surveillance equipment and security screens that made the room glow blue. They were being monitored by a man whose face Itachi couldn’t see due to the angle the man was sitting and the size of the small window he peered through.

At the back of the main room was yet another hallway, this time longer than the others. It led to a stone wall. Orochimaru pressed his hand to some hidden spot on the wall, and a small window slid open, revealing a keypad and sensor. He typed in a code and pressed his thumb to the sensor, and the wall slid open to reveal a narrow opening where a staircase led down to yet another hallway, walls made of stone and lined with more rooms. As they descended the stairs, the wall slid closed behind them.

The rooms all had doors, none with windows in them as the security room had, and when Deidara had curiously opened one of them they’d gotten an eyeful of a small redhead about their age with shoulder length hair, moaning like a whore as she rode the cock of some guy whose face they didn’t get a chance to see before the girl whipped around to yell, “Shut the fucking door, shitheads!”

They barely had time to notice the blood smeared around her lips and dripping down her chin before Orochimaru had pulled the door shut, a strange glint coming into his already strange yellow eyes as he caught each of their gazes and directed the boys down the hallway again with a hand to Itachi’s lower back.

This was when Itachi had finally gotten the much delayed chill up his spine and decided he was ready to leave. His body, however, wasn’t cooperating. No matter how much he screamed in his head for his feet to stop, to turn around, to run back up those stairs, through the VIP room and out of the club altogether, his traitorous limbs continued following the pale man in front of him. With a glance at his friends from the corner of his eyes— as he could not turn his head, either— he saw confused and worried looks escalating to panic as they, too, followed Orochimaru.

At the end of the hall was a room with large, carved double doors. Orochimaru opened them and Itachi, Sasori and Deidara had no choice but to walk inside. The room was large, richly furnished, and decorated with snake carvings, statues, and tapestries. The only light in the room came from candles in sconces on the walls. At the center of the room was a large four-poster bed, the posts reaching towards the ceiling, with more snake carvings covering the dark wood. All the colors were dark— dark wood, black, red and purple fabrics, slate gray stone. Despite the snake theme being a bit creepy, the room was gorgeous. Then they noticed the blood.

It wasn’t easy to see right away because of the dark colors and the shadows cast by the candles. But when the flames flickered just so and the light shifted, splashes of blood could be seen on the walls, floor and furniture. On the bed, the bedclothes were clean, but Itachi was sure if he could closely inspect the carvings of the headboard he would find more blood. Not that he wanted to closely inspect the bed; far from it, in fact.

“I see you received my gift, Orochimaru-sama,” a familiar voice spoke from a chaise lounge in a shadowy corner.

“I did. Thank you, Kabuto.”

The gray haired boy stepped out from the shadows, a smirk on his bespectacled face as he met the accusing eyes of the three boys.

“Sasori-kun, Deidara-kun, thank you ever so much for bringing Itachi-kun tonight. Orochimaru-sama has had his eye on him for awhile.”

Itachi’s eyes narrowed. They’d planned this? A sideways glance at his friends’ confused, angry and scared expressions showed that they hadn’t had any hand in… whatever was going on right now. Could he trust that, though? Maybe they were confused because now they were under the same spell Itachi was. Maybe they were angry because only Itachi was supposed to be taken. Maybe they were scared because they knew what was awaiting Itachi in this room with this man, and now Itachi knew they knew, and now they knew they were in for it too. His mind started to swim with accusations and paranoia; he felt and heard the blood rushing through him as he thought frantically, wondering what was happening, how to get out of there, what the hell to do!

Then Orochimaru’s oily voice broke through his racing thoughts. “Now, now, Kabuto, you’re making Itachi-kun doubt his friends.” The yellow eyes swiveled to Itachi’s dark ones. “They have nothing to do with us or why you are here, Itachi-kun. Don’t you worry your pretty head.” He patted said head a couple times, then ran his fingers through the dark silky locks on the side of the teen’s head until his cold, pale hand cupped Itachi’s cheek. “They merely took my dear Kabuto’s invitation to the club, just as they told you. Of course, knowing that you were their friend, he made sure to extend the invitation to you.” The words were reassuring, the tone placating, but there was danger underlying it. Danger that was plain to see by the hungry look in those yellow snakelike eyes that held Itachi in a trance.

The hand left Itachi’s cheek, the eyes flicked back to the gray haired boy, and Orochimaru spoke again. “Kabuto, why don’t you make our… guests more comfortable?” He suggested with a gleam in his eye, fangs peeking over his wide smirk. “I would like some time to get… acquainted with Itachi-kun.”

Kabuto bowed to his master before approaching the other two boys, lengths of chains and cuffs now visible in his hands. He bound their hands behind their backs, then wrapped a chain around each of their torsos, binding their arms further. From his pocket, he pulled two large black cloths, which turned out to be head covering masks of some sort. Pulling them over the boys’ heads, he tied them tight, blinding and gagging them. Connecting a leash to the chains around Sasori and Deidara, he dragged them from the room before Orochimaru’s spell could wear off.

Itachi heard the doors shut behind him, and his blood ran cold at the realization that he was now alone, in this room, with this man, and he could not move to run or defend himself. At this thought, the bastard gave a dark chuckle and Itachi suddenly felt the strange spell lift. The sudden release made him lurch forward as all the strain he’d been trying to put on his muscles to force them to move finally came to fruition at once. He barely stopped himself from falling on his face, but quickly righted himself, getting into a defensive position across the room from Orochimaru and making sure not to meet that dangerous gaze again. Whatever that weird trance had been, it was because of those eyes, he was sure of it.

Orochimaru chuckled again and quicker than Itachi could blink the man was on him, pressing him to a wall by his throat. He tried to fight; to free himself; but his blows only seemed to amuse the creep more, and the hand held firm. Itachi squeezed his eyes shut, still fighting despite the apparent pointlessness, struggling desperately. His eyes suddenly went wide as he felt a thick, wet tongue slide along and into his ear, then down his neck leaving a wet trail that made him want to gag. A cold sweat broke out on him as his fears of what the man wanted him for were confirmed by the hardness pressing against his stomach.

The tongue had stopped at a pulse point and Itachi breathed an involuntary breath of relief as it was finally retracted. The relief was short lived, however.

Orochimaru put his nose against the wet pulse point and breathed deeply. Then Itachi heard him hiss, “You put up such a fight. You’re a strong boy, perfectly able to protect yourself. No need to follow the cautions of your parents, because who could ever break through your stone cold façade to find your vulnerability? But I can smell your fear, Itachi-kun. It’s making your heart race and your blood boil. Oh, it will be so delicious.”

Without any more warning than that, fangs were suddenly pierced through that wet skin, blood pouring from the wound and into the waiting mouth, warm trails oozing down Itachi’s shirt and chest and the pale chin of the man attached to him. Small hands clamped onto pale, pale exposed skin— nails digging in and arms trying to push him away to no avail— and Itachi finally made his first sound since he’d met the man (vampire) at the bar currently somewhere above their heads. He screamed.

It didn’t even last a minute; the feeding that is. Then that thick tongue was on the bite, lapping up the trails and smearing a special saliva over it to slow the flow of blood. He didn’t want to waste that crimson ambrosia by letting the boy bleed his life’s blood out while the vampire attended to his other… desires. Orochimaru leaned back to look at his prey, licking his lips, and Itachi realized too late that the eyes had caught him again.

Before he knew it he was on the bed. His clothes had been stripped, as had Orochimaru’s. An awful, soul-splitting pain was between his legs, surging like fire up his spine. His arms were tied, straining desperately against the bonds, struggling legs held firmly in place by the man driving mercilessly into him. The trance had again been lifted, as his thrashing increased his heart rate and further excited the snakelike vampire. Blood flowed from between his legs, down his thighs, soaking the bedding and coating the deathly cold and pale man.

Itachi’s throat was sore from screaming and his face was hot and sticky with tears that could no longer come.

It surprised him a little, the thought that he’d cried all the tears he had. He should have had a surplus. It had been years since he’d cried. Since his father had impressed upon him at the age of seven the great responsibility he carried as heir of the Uchiha family, and that no son of his would disgrace the family name with such childish behavior. In fact, hardly anyone saw any emotion from him beyond the masks of haughty disregard or stoic indifference that he faced the world with— not even his friends had seen the true Itachi, though they had seen a little more than most. But no, that privilege belonged solely to his younger brother, Sasuke, as his otouto was the only one that had ever been able to make Itachi drop the mask completely. Now, however…

The mask was gone. The raw emotion was there, for all who cared to look to see. But it was not because of Sasuke disarming him with his childish antics and innocent smile and devoted, “Nii-san!” Itachi’s mask had been broken. By a snake-looking bastard of a vampire named Orochimaru.

His body gave up the fight, struggling limbs suddenly limp. Orochimaru’s thrusts grew faster and faster, finally stopping after a hissed groan of pleasure that accompanied his release. He pulled out, but Itachi didn’t even care to hope he would be freed. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this alive, why give himself false hope?

Orochimaru moved down to lick the blood from the teen’s thighs and Itachi couldn’t help but cringe. Then he gave a surprised yelp, attempting again to jerk away as that thick, slimy appendage plunged into his abused and bleeding passage. It wiggled and writhed within him, the tip flicking back and forth against his torn walls to get every drop of blood available. Coming to a certain spot within him, it pushed and Itachi was shocked and mortified to find himself hard and hear an unwanted moan pass his lips. He didn’t want this— any of it— so why was his body betraying him like this and reacting to this devil’s touch? He’d been utterly violated, ripped apart, and the remnants of excruciating pain still lingered. Yet this vampire with his abnormally long and thick tongue knew exactly what button to press to get the supposedly positive reaction from the formerly stoic teen. Before he knew it, he had come with a sharp cry, and before Itachi could further curse his own body’s hateful betrayal, he blacked out.

‘So that’s what happened,’ Itachi now thought detachedly after the moment of clarity that returned his memories of the lost time ended. His heart had slowed even further and his breathing was shallow. The pain that had ebbed away decided to make its last dramatic appearance; sharp, shooting, throbbing agony enveloping his entire being, particularly at his neck where the fangs were clamped; lungs burning and straining to gulp in enough oxygen; heart weakly protesting its slowing and inevitable stop as the devil above him sucked his blood dry.

‘So this is how I will die? Father, won’t you be proud,’ he thought sardonically.

“Oh no, Itachi-kun,” Orochimaru chuckled. “You will not die here. You are too sweet, too much of a find, to let go of so easily. It’s almost a shame I’ve already drained you this close to death. You would have made a wonderful blood slave. However, now I shall make you mine forever.”

Dulled and fading onyx eyes watched as the vampire bit into his own wrist and blood welled up from the wound. He then placed it at Itachi’s mouth, ordering him to drink. In what would surely be his final act of defiance, seeing as he would die without it, Itachi kept his mouth clamped shut.

“Won’t cooperate?” That oily voice hissed. “Then I’ll have to force feed you, won’t I?”

Orochimaru took his wrist into his mouth, moaning at the taste of his blood mixed with the beautiful teen’s. The tangy liquid gathered in his mouth as he used his other hand to pry open Itachi’s mouth, unmindful of the teeth attempting to bite off the intruding fingers. Then he leaned down, pressing bloody lips around the boy’s parted pale blue ones, and let the blood pour from his mouth. He thrust his tongue far into Itachi’s mouth to the back of his throat, triggering a gag reflex that inevitably forced him to swallow afterwards. The vampire gave a dark chuckle at his handiwork, watching as the pupils in Itachi’s graying eyes dilated completely from the effects of the blood; the change already beginning. He placed his wrist at the open mouth again, and this time Itachi obediently sucked; lips and tongue drawing more of the drink that would give him a new life.

Before the change could completely take hold, Orochimaru dressed himself and freed Itachi’s limp body from the bonds. Lifting the boy, he carried him from the room and down the hallway to another room that had been prepared for his special guest. It was dark, windowless like all the others in here, walls of stone, and completely unfurnished. He lay the near-catatonic teen on the smooth stone floor, satisfied with the steadily increasing pulse and evening breathing quickly growing rapid in the boy’s body’s anticipation of the pain of change.

Just as he pulled the door shut, a low keening came from the boy, quickly turning to a higher pitch and gaining volume. With an evil grin of satisfaction, Orochimaru set an ancient lock to the door, preventing all from entering or Itachi escaping unless the snakelike vampire willed it so. Turning from the door, where Itachi’s screams and anguished cries could still be heard (though they were muffled), Orochimaru set off to check on his faithful human familiar, Kabuto.

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He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know what he was. He didn’t know why he was. All he knew was the darkness; the cold; the hunger. It was eating him alive; driving him mad. He heard voices, whispers in the back of his mind. Hunt. Kill. Feed. The urge— the instinct— to obey was overwhelming. He had no care of where or who or what or why or even how anymore, he merely wanted to obey. To heed the voice and feed his hunger; his craving.

Days passed without his knowledge. His eyes adjusted to the dark. The hunger grew worse; deeper; savage. He moaned and writhed and roared his rage at the hunger and the unknown force that kept him locked away in this room. Slightly elongated and sharpened nails scratched at the walls and floor of his prison, desperate for a way out.

His hand slipped, accidentally slicing open the palm of his other hand. Instinctively, he brought the wound up to his mouth and licked the blood away. Suddenly ecstasy poured through his entire being, the ravenous craving delighting in finally tasting the blood it demanded. All too quickly, though, the blood was gone; it was only a shallow cut. Just as he was looking curiously at the slowly pulsing veins in his wrist, needing to taste that sweet liquid copper again, the door to his cell opened.

Hissing, he squinted at the light and growled his frustration. He received a low chuckle in response, then oily words.

“Yes, Itachi-kun, the hunger is painful, is it not? Would you like me to feed you?”

Itachi gave another guttural growl. Words and conscious thought were beyond him now.

“I have a gift for you,” the voice said. Then two warm bodies were pushed into the room, the door closing and locking behind them. They smelled so sweetly of that delicious treat he’d so recently enjoyed a taste of. He could hear the steady beat of it pumping through their veins. He could feel their fear as if it were something tangible in the air. Slowly he stood, creeping towards his prey and circling them in the middle of the room.

“Itachi?” A voice asked hopefully. “That you, yeah?”

He could see them squinting, eyes not adjusted to the dark as his were. Their heads moved, following the sound of his footsteps that he allowed them to hear. He began a low growl, and the pony-tailed one grabbed the arm of the other.

“Sasori?” His tone was worried this time, asking for reassurance from his friend as a pair of red eyes glowed at them in the dark.

“Itachi-kun,” the other finally spoke, not letting the fear the raven haired boy could smell into his voice as he addressed him.

The words they said held no meaning to him, it was mere buzzing in his ears compared to the voice raging in his head again.

Hunt. Kill. Feed.

He lunged at them, one arm wrapping around a struggling Deidara from behind, holding him with inhuman strength as he also held Sasori, forcing the boy’s head at an angle with his own head to get better access to the neck. He sunk his virgin fangs into the soft flesh, finally freeing that delicious nectar and drinking greedily. Instinct told him to stop before the heart did, and he dropped Sasori unceremoniously to the floor before turning his full attention on the screaming and cursing Deidara, giving him the same treatment. As the blonde boy dropped to the floor with his friend, conscious clarity returned to Itachi. His eyes went wide at the realization of what he’d done.

He’d killed his best friends. The only people besides his brother that made life tolerable. Orochimaru intended to keep him… forever; attempting to end his own life would surely meet heavy resistance. But how could he endure this accursed existence knowing he’d killed them?

Panic overtook him and he dropped to his knees between his friends, pulling their limp forms to him and sobbing desperate apologies. Then he heard it. It was faint, but he could hear their weak pulses. There was still hope.

How had Orochimaru done it? He searched his memory for the dreaded images of his ‘creation’, finally finding the information he was looking for.

His friends’ mouths were open, panting shallowly as death approached them quickly. Luckily they hadn’t lost consciousness, however it was clear they would be too weak to drink from him on their own. Without hesitation, he bit into his wrist and filled his mouth with blood. Itachi locked his lips over Sasori’s mouth first, sharing the precious fluid. Pulling back, he closed his friend’s mouth gently, softly ordering him to swallow. Then Itachi repeated the process for Deidara.

As the tangy liquid hit his tongue, Deidara instantly reacted, pushing his tongue forward to search for more of that taste. He plunged into Itachi’s mouth, meeting his raven haired friend’s tongue and sucking greedily. Not satisfied once he drained Itachi’s mouth of the offered blood, Deidara bit the tongue curling against his, sharp human teeth drawing forth more of the desired taste. Itachi gave a pained moan and pulled free from Deidara, swallowing the blood from his tongue.

Deidara sat up, licked his lips, and grinned. “That’s good… yeah.”

On the floor, Sasori gave a moan, and Itachi turned to him, propping him up and offering his bleeding wrist to his friend. He took it, sucking steadily but more patiently than Deidara, who demanded Itachi’s other wrist when he saw the display.

Itachi felt himself growing weaker, the warmth of the blood he’d devoured seeping from him with each suck his friends took. With the last of his strength, he wrenched away, throwing himself and his friends to opposite walls. Through the darkness, he saw his friends’ forms slump over and begin to writhe. As the low keening of pain started, the cell door opened again to reveal Orochimaru, two shadows looming behind him.

“You decided to ‘make’ them, I see, Itachi-kun. I must say, I’m impressed. For a fledgling to be able to make another so soon after turning, and after your first feeding no less, is quite unheard of. I fear you have worn yourself out making two at once, though, my pet.”

He turned to the shadows behind him. “Kabuto, please scrounge up a meal for Itachi-kun from the VIP room and bring it to my chambers. Kimimaro, take the blonde to his own room. We wouldn’t want these two to kill each other during the change, after Itachi-kun went to all the trouble of making them.” With his instructions given, Orochimaru picked up the black haired teen and carried him back to the room he’d been created in.

TBC

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A/N2: I’ve had this in my outlines folder for a couple months now and it’s been plaguing me ever since. The other day I couldn’t resist the urge to actually start it!! So here’s the first chapter of a fic I shouldn’t even be posting yet, since I promised myself and my betas that I wouldn’t start anything new until Disappearing Act was finished, but… Bah! My Naruto obsession won’t go away no matter how much I read, so maybe if I give in to my writing urges my block on writing Gravitation will go away… *cough*yeahright*cough*

BTW, sorry this chapter is so short! Without my header and notes, it’s only about 9 ½ pages in Word. *cries* Maybe think of it as kind of a prologue (though it’s not really…) with Ita, Saso, and Dei’s vampirification. Knowing me, chapters will get increasingly longer as the story goes on, but to start off I’ll probably have a few more chapters roughly this size, just to set things up for the bigger story later. (Yes, this actually has a plot. It’s actually harder for me to write something that doesn’t.)

Anyway, sorry about Itachi’s OOCness. I will try to get better. Hopefully writing him will help me improve in writing him. Also, you may (or may not) have noticed Sasori’s utter lack of physical description (i.e. hair/eye color). Is there anything official about his coloring? It’s been awhile since I read those manga chapters and I don’t remember if there were any color pages. Also his characterization may be a bit skewed since it’s been awhile… I should stop being lazy and read those chapters again, ne… *wishes they’d fucking animate that arc already to make characterization in my fanfiction easier on me* XD

I can’t promise another chapter in a timely fashion, due to all the other projects I’m supposed to be working on. (check out my author profile to see what I mean – pretty much all my fics are WIP) I will try, though! And like I said, this story has been plaguing me so there’s a good chance there’ll be more soon.

Oh, and I’m a review whore so… *holds up “Will work for Feedback” sign*

‘til next time…
~ lg