In the Darkness

Author Notes: So yes, this story does have brief/light references of a previous male/female relationship, however it simply shadows the plot and there are no sexual references between them.

Kotatsu: A low wooden table with a heart source beneath it.

Kakejiku: Hanging Scrolls

Ikebana: Flower arrangement or a piece of pottery that is displayed.

Fusuma: Siding paper doors

Shoji: Sliding paper screens

Tatami layout (Inauspicious): It is where the grid pattern allows the junctions to form a cross (+) shape. Such a layout is considered to bring bad fortune.











 

In the Darkness

Written By: Crimson2006

No Beta

He’d lost his wife nine months ago and yet it felt as if a lifetime had passed since then. Like a never ending dream all the days seemed to bleed together; each night filled with terrible nightmares –that even upon waking– he was incapable of fleeing from. Often, he would close his eyes and recall the sound of her voice; his ears resonating with a low hum of tranquility—his mind adhered to a frail memory that he knew would eventually fade back into the darkness. If only he could touch her again, see her smile and taste her warmth. But she had tragically died and left him alone in the world. For Itachi the blow had been devastatingly surreal—the remnants of his heart reflecting that notion with the sepulchral shades that tainted his soul.





Such was the main reason that the twenty-seven year old had opted to move out to the countryside; to buy a small piece of land where few dared to travel and make it his home. After all, it wasn’t like he held a commitment to anybody else. His old life was dead and he saw no reason to humor those who wanted to offer him condolence with her passing. No, their words would not bring her back and reminiscing about the past would only cause more pain. Just thinking about it made him want to hate the world. She had been his salvation, his hope; the only one he had longed for. Her smile and been the purest and brightest of them all, and it had been she who had taken away all of his pain and confusion. At least until god had taken her away. Why such a thing had transpired, Itachi could not say. But the suffering that it caused was beyond detrimental; the notion draining away the only warm part of his soul as it was replaced with a bleak sense of emptiness. Sometimes he wondered if the pain would ever get better. Sometimes he wondered if he deserved for it to. The latter was a notion strictly coveted by his guilt though; one of the dark secrets that often fluttered through his mind but remained unspoken of.





Bereaved and grieving Itachi sat alone in the main room of his new house, quietly listening to the sound of rain as it rapped against the domain. Despite the open area, the said room was adorned with very few pieces. A kotatsu in the middle, some kakejiku on the wall and an ikebana that Sasuke had insisted he bring along. Itachi had to admit that on their own each piece appeared dull and jaded. Together however, the collaboration seemed to spark an ancient feel to the house—as if the residence had been pulled from a rift in time—each part complimenting a timeless flow, giving the home an exceptionally traditional feel that the elder was rather fond of. Even the tatami mats underneath him looked historical. The ‘inauspicious’ layout untouched as Itachi had never been one to believed in superstitious jargon.





The twenty-seven year old suspired at those thoughts and closed his eyes, relishing what little he could about the rustic feel around him. The lack of modern reality amid a moving world was certainly a welcoming form of solace. Here it almost seemed as if time was standing still, stopped against the continuum of fate where his lover remained just out of his reach. It was bliss even as it was torture.





“Hey Aniki?” A soft voice called and Itachi’s eyes fluttered back open, moving away from the backyard’s vista towards the fusuma where his younger brother stood. Much like Itachi, Sasuke was graced with the dark features of the Uchiha clan. His eyes were an enigma of swirling black, his hair as deep as the starless night and his skin a counterbalance of pale divinity. Granted that Sasuke was a whole four years younger, but he was no less wiser; concern for his brother dripping from his tone as he watched the other solicitously.





“Did you need something Otouto?” Itachi answered back, giving his kin a good look over before averting his eyes outside once more. He could hear Sasuke sigh and walk forward, the soft crunch of the tatami mats, grieving the other’s weight.





“I finished unpacking the last of the boxes. Is there anything else that you need?” Sasuke voice was beside him now, and Itachi flinched when his brother reached out to tuck a stray hair behind his ear. “Aniki?”





“Yeah.”





“Are you sure you’re going to be okay out here all by yourself?”





Itachi hummed distractingly at the words, his visage tense as he listened to the sound of the Furin dance in the distance. With each swing of the wind, the bell clanged rhythmically, taking his mind further away as he nodded in a manner that almost seemed translucent. “I’ll be fine,” he slowly reassured; eventually shaking away the distracted feeling when he felt Sasuke’s eyes grow heavy on him. Itachi mentally reprimanded himself. The last thing he needed to do was to worry his little brother. Sasuke was far too keen to believe half-scattered words.





“Really I mean it Otouto, I’ll be fine…” This time his resolve was firm; dark orbs turning to mirror a near identical image. He knew Sasuke was worried for him –and he loved his little brother very much for it– but the youth wasn’t the one who could save him. “If you’re done unpacking, you should head home. The weather’s already dismal and it’s bound to get worse. I don’t like the idea of you driving home in that.”





Sasuke gave an unimpressed grunt and watched Itachi‘s blank expression. He wasn’t sure if leaving his brother out in the middle of nowhere was a good idea or not, especially in a place that the locals deemed as taboo.





Despite the fact that Itachi wasn’t superstitious, Sasuke’s perception of the world was not quite the same. Ever since third grade when he’d unexplainably seen an apparition; the younger Uchiha had found himself a hardcore believer in regards to supernatural phenomenon. That was why he happened to buy into in all the stuff that the real estate agent had warned his brother about. About how people constantly disappeared from the area and were murdered in unexplainable ways.





Granted that there was nothing overly irrational about the simplistic dynamics of what those statistics implied—people went missing and died all the time. But the way the local authorities had found the bodies—at least the ones lucky enough to be recovered—the state of repose could only be deemed as anomalous. To make matters more peculiar, countless reports claimed that all the bodies appeared to have had the life sucked out of them; flesh withered away unnaturally, not properly decayed, but preserved against the threshold of time. Limbs were often haphazardly contorted in disturbing positions, and an expression that was akin to terror was sealed against every petrified visage. Whatever had killed the poor souls was eerily familiar in its consistency, and according to the legend, the nature of the deaths could be traced back nearly three thousand years.





So no, Sasuke wasn’t overly thrilled that his brother had decided to buy a house out in the middle of nowhere. And yes, he was equally perturbed by the fact that his kin planned to live there alone. But there was only so much he could do, even if he tried to push the limit.





“You know it’s not a big deal.” Sasuke shrugged causally, trying to keep his voice light and rational though he could already tell that Itachi was reading into his plan. “I can drive back in the morning when the weather clears up. Suigetsu’s working the nightshift anyway, so I’d just be home alone.”





“No, you need to go,” Itachi insisted, his features wan though his voice reflected anything but. He needed to be alone and his brother had to understand that. “You have a life waiting for you. I want you to go and live it. Your place isn’t to stay here with me.”





“But what if I want—”





“Otouto don’t…” Itachi reprimanded, not prone to hearing whatever desperation his brother might try and convey. Besides, he was sure that Sasuke was more worried about ghosts or the likes of some creature eating him than anything else. He knew his brother had taken the stories the real-estate woman had told them to heart. “Please…” he added, just for good measure, adamant about letting the other know that he was not needed there.





Sasuke worried his lower lip but gave a reluctant nod as he read over Itachi’s features. It wasn’t the choice he wanted to make, but he knew that this situation wasn’t about him. It was about Itachi and the elder was telling him to leave. “Okay, if you’re sure. But call me if you need anything…” He said sternly, only pleased when Itachi concurred by giving a half-hearted smile and a slight nod.





Standing reluctantly, the youth gathered his things from the corner of the room, slipping on his jacket and walking back over to the fusuma. “So…” he spoke with a rather long drawl, his fingers tapping against the frame of the sliding door, contemplating if he should ask or simply leave. “I take it that you’re not going to walk me out then?”





“I’d rather not.”





“I see,” Sasuke frowned though he didn’t bother to push things. “I’ll see you in a couple days then. I love you, oh and don’t forget—”





“…Call if I need anything,” Itachi interjected knowingly. “I won’t forget and I love you too.”





With one last nod Sasuke forced a small smile and excited the room, shutting the fusuma as Itachi’s form disappeared from sight.





…





Itachi was a little more at ease once he could no long hear his younger brother’s Mercedes running in the drive way. It felt nice to be alone, and yet that emptiness swallowed him just the same. He had spent many happy years with her and now there was nothing to show for it. Nothing but pain and loneliness; emotions that wouldn’t dissipate not matter how strongly he willed it. Closing his eyes Itachi contemplated suicide only to expel the idea distastefully. He didn’t have the gall to kill himself—to face her in death. What would happen if she asked him those daunting questions? What would he say to her broken hearted words? Itachi didn’t know, and he didn’t want think about it. Instead, he opted to sit there and listen to the rain. To let that smoothing, cascading flow take him someplace far, far away.





Pitter-patter





Pitter-patter





Pitter-patter





Monotonous and lulling, time seemed to slip away.





One hour passed, two and then three. Itachi did not waver from his spot, and the rain did not cease. He found comfort in what it offered though—completely surround by the same sense of nothingness that echoed in his heart. Here the balance of reality swayed; here, in between the sound of the rain and the solitude of his existence, he could almost grasp at what lied beneath.





More time passed and Itachi’s mind stayed scattered, his perception only taking note of the skies changing hues once the sun had set. Far past the eaves he looked on into a world that seemed bleak. No light—or rather, no hope— in the dead of night. With the moon shrouded by dark clouds, and the sky just as starless as the endless as voids of his soul, Itachi sat lifelessly until a sound drew his attention.





At first he was unsure of it origin, but as it drew closer he became slightly more aware that someone was walking under the veranda of the house; the floorboards moaning in protest until whoever it was stopped just short of the shoji screen. Wondering who in their right mind was out in this weather –furthermore in the company of his house– Itachi drew to his feet slowly, edging towards the opening. For a minute he couldn’t see anything—just the encasing darkness—but then a flash of thunder echoed in the background, lighting up the sky and the porch, revealing unto him a memorizing sight.





Just a few feet away from him stood the embodiment of a man, though surely the figure could have been mistaken for something else. Crimson eyes like the flames of hell, hair that was commingled with shades of carmine and vermillion, and lips twisted with a wry grin—the epitome of what one might consider godly or demonic was wrapped in perfectly milky flesh and all Itachi could do was stand there in awe until one notion drew out into the next.





Suddenly mild integument turned into something akin to agitation and the raven’s visage took on a rather annoyed expression. He’d relocated to get away from people, not be bothered by them. Why in the hell was this man standing on his doorstep? Moreover, why was it that the world refused to leave him alone no matter how badly he craved solitude?





Vexed, Itachi’s aura reflected coldly, not hiding his displeasure as he eyed the other with a bit more scrutiny on a second thread of lightening. Now that the initial shock had worn off he could see all the small details. The stranger looked young –maybe in his early twenties– but there was something timeless about him at the same time. His body was lean albeit fit, and there were odd, whisker-like tattoo’s donning each cheek. In addition a single earring hung from his right ear—the alizarin beads attached to a braided thread that was of the same color. The whole concoction spoke wonders to the others personality. In fact Itachi could easily speculate that the intruder liked red, especially since the only thing on the man that wasn’t the said shade, was the pair of tight leather pants that were half-unbuttoned and clinging to frail hips.





Consequentially, the pants were the only thing the stranger was wearing.





“This is my house, you need to leave,” he informed, his tone cold and to the point. Expecting to be heeded, Itachi moved to pull the shoji screen shut when the figure—that as the lightening faded had returned back to the shadows—stepped forward.





“Wait please… stranger,” the red-eyed fiend drawled, his voice deep and yet smooth like cognac with a palpable burn that scorned but seduced. To be honest the tone put Itachi on edge, but he brushed the matter aside. There was nothing that screamed dangerous about the man per se. Itachi just deemed that he didn’t exactly seemed normal either.





For a moment Itachi stayed silence, observing the unexpected company before clearing his throat. Maybe the man just needed to use the phone or wanted directions to the nearest town. “What business do you have here?” he deadpanned eager to get this conversation over with so he could get back to mourning.





Not perturbed by the indifferent tone or the haughty attitude being presented, the figure simply shifted his weight from one foot to the next, his wry smile beaming ever so prominently. “I didn’t realize anyone was here. Usually the town’s people stay clear of this place—taboo you know.”





“I know.”





“Do you now,” the other spoke unconvinced.





Itachi narrowed his eyes. He was not in the mood to repeat himself, even if the question was rhetorical. “If all you’re here to do is bother me—“





“Oh no, of course not… that’s not my intention at all,” the dual haired man interpolated, red eyes twinkling with an ostensible kind of mirth. “I’m just looking for a warm place to rest. I’ve been walking out in this horrible weather for a long time now. You don’t mind if I come in and stay a while do you? Just till the rain stops, then I’ll be on my way.”





Each word befell the man’s lips like silk and yet it was tainted and defiled in a way that Itachi could not name. Suddenly he wanted to tell the man that he did mind, and that the stranger needed to go, but those commands did not take flight from his hesitant lips. Instead he stood there bewildered as the red-haired man step closer; the odd aroma of burnt sulfur and ash engulfing his senses. It almost seemed suffocating and Itachi shuttered as a cold –deadly cold– hand reached out to touch him, making his own skin burn at the contrast of temperature. Still, the sensation seemed to return Itachi into awareness and he quickly took a step back.





“What are you doing?” Itachi snapped only to let the flow of words taper. Despite what had just happened –the stranger had come much too close and was being way too personal– something seemed to dawn inside him. They were out in the middle of nowhere, the swamps and woods stretching out for endless miles. There probably wasn’t another place that the stranger could go, and from that aspect, Itachi felt that he should invite the man in. He didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s death. He had suffered and was still suffering his own loss. It was a terrible fate to wish upon anyone, and surely with how cold the man was, such an outcome wasn’t that far away.





Itachi sighed as he felt his resolve slip; his demanded answer washing away as he spoke a new set of words that altered the direction of things. “I supposed it can’t be helped,” he exasperated, his tone bearing both reluctance and irritability. Despite his harshness, the years he’d spent with her had softened him. Before he wouldn’t have cared—before he would have just turned the man away death be damned. Even with the heartache of his grief though, he could no longer be that cold. “Just don’t touch me again.”





The red-haired fiend smirked but nodded his assent, his bare feet pressing against the ‘inauspicious’ tatami mats as he stepped inside the warm area. “Thank you for inviting me in,” he replied, something akin to wicked dancing in those pools of blood red orbs that constituted eyes.





Tightening his lips into a thin line Itachi shut the door in aftermath. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just made the wrong choice, but he supposed it was too late to take it back though. What was done was done.





…





Itachi watched the man carefully as he poured them each a cup of tea. He had pulled out a modern day heater and offered both a towel and dry clothes to the stranger, but the red head had declined the latter two convinces without a second though. The concept had struck Itachi as odd, but he hadn’t pushed the issue. He just wanted this to be done and over with so he could slip back into his own little world of loneliness and disparity. Such was the reason for their lack of conversation. If something needed to be address, Itachi would ask, but he held no desire to initiate anything past that. The stranger seemed to comprehend that aspect as well; no real words leaving him, just a nod or hum that kept the tranquility steady.





Before long a good hour had passed as they sat there amid their own silence, the sound of rain falling heavily against the shingles, creating idle chatter for them. The lack of articulation almost seemed to be good to be true, and perhaps it was, because no sooner had that thought struck, was it breaking.





“So why live out here?”





Itachi’s brows knit slightly as he slowly sipped his tea. For a few minutes he simply said nothing –he didn’t feel the need to explain anything to the other– but eventually the stranger’s expecting expression got the best of him and he answered stiffly. “To be alone…”





“So you’re running away?”





Letting his scowl deepen Itachi straitened his back and spoke critically. “I’m not running away. But even if I was –which again, I’m not– I don’t feel that someone wandering out in the middle of nowhere, in the rain no less, with nothing more than pants on, has the right to judge me.”





Feeling satisfied with his words, Itachi picked up his cup and finished off the last of the contents, the bitterness of the green tea rolling around in his mouth. It reminded him of his feelings towards his unexpected company.





“Ah I see; the fruit of wise words from the mouth of a foolish man. I wonder though, have you eaten before you’ve swallowed, or swallowed before you’ve eaten,” the stranger poised in riddle, a boney hand running through his red shaded tress. It was a simple idiosyncrasy but there was a certain amount of elegancy to it that made it stand out. It wasn’t just a motion. It was a choreographed enactment, as if it had been played out a million times prior and always done the exact same way. “Haven’t you the slightest bit of curiosity as to why I’m out here, dressed in nothing but pants, walking about in the rain? Most people would want to know.”





“I’m not most people.” Itachi admonished bluntly, trying to snuff out any lingering prospect that the other might deem as further leeway to keep speaking. Clearly his ambitions failed though as the stranger kept right on talking.





“So it doesn’t bother you that this is considered a dangerous place to live?”





“I think as long as I stay out of the swamps and don’t drown myself in the river, I should be fine.” Itachi concluded.





The stranger chuckled darkly. “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m referring to how people mysteriously die or disappear around here. That doesn’t frighten you? Or maybe your just ignorant to the ledged that envelopes these lands?” Wry lips suddenly beckoned those last words with something akin to seduction but also the undertones of forlorn.





Itachi watched the other for a moment before he pressed out a light breath and simply opted to ignore the man with his odd mannerisms. Of course he had heard of legend –the real estate agent had seemed rather adamant to inform him of it– but the words had gone unheeded. He wasn’t superstitious, and that silly fable had little to do with him and what he desire. No, his volition was to be left alone and he didn’t care about anything past that.





The rain continued to pitter-patter against the house and another hour passed before the stranger spoke again.





“Do you regret it?”





“Regret what?” Itachi asked, looking up from his cup. The tea had long since vanished but he hadn’t gone to go brew another pot. In fact he hadn’t done much but sit there and fade away, his mind dancing amid memories of the past while trying to ignore the stranger.





“Your loss…” the fiend explained, as if it was inconvenient to elaborate. Surely the man was not that daft. Then again, Itachi had invited him inside so the raven couldn’t be that bright either.





Shocked by what was spoken Itachi wondered if his disposition was so dismal that his grief had become that obvious. Even if that was true though, he deemed that the red-haired man was too keen for his own good and perhaps needed to take an earlier leave. Talking about her was not something Itachi found plausible at the moment; a notion that perhaps transgressed deeper than that, to at all, ever again. “I don’t really think that it’s any of your business…”





“Hn. She must have been special then—for you to mourn her this way. So special in fact that you continue to waste your time in pointless idle,” the stranger’s words quickly changed to become something taunting; thick with accusation as he let a vainglorious smirk sweep the contour of his face. “After all doesn’t your guilt thrive so strong because it’s buried under a lie? Isn’t the truth that you never really loved her to begin with?”





A feeling mortification washed upon Itachi and he stood up, his heart full of fire and yet weeping all the same. He had no idea how the stranger could know about his wife –that he was mourning her or why he had used such a unique set of words– but it burned deeply inside of Itachi, making his stoic demeanor slip once more.





“How do you know about her?” he hissed. His mind swirling at the beseeched concept as those red eyes looked into his black with nothing but pure amusement. The stranger knew. Itachi didn’t know how, but he could tell right then and there that the man knew everything about him. He could see the dark secrets that had long since slipped between the cracks but continued to spread throughout Itachi as he grew, infecting him and making him miserable, spreading the lies of what his heart wanted to what he had foolishly accepted as a form of happiness.





“It doesn’t matter how I know,” the stranger informed. “Because that doesn’t change your sins or the outcome of your desires. You were a horrible husband; you bred a selfish, cruel lie against a woman who had given you her heart."





A heavy wave of guilt hit the raven and he felt his chest mirror that pain. He felt nauseous and light headed at the same time as everything churned together. The stranger was wrong. It hadn’t been like that. It wasn’t that he hadn’t loved her, or that he had used her—though that was exactly the outcome—but she had sated the unnatural desires inside of him and he had needed that more than anything. She had been his salvation in the darkness. As long as he’d held onto her, he’d never had to think about his immoral desires—that maddening hunger to be taken by another man. To be embraced by someone of the same sex and be filled with something that no woman could possibly give him.





In retrospect Itachi had always told himself that he wasn’t gay –that those kinds of thoughts were impure and wrong– but that fantasy had been his secret; his heart’s dirty little desire, something that he might have enacted eventually if he hadn’t had her. The problem was, she was dead now. His deliverance was gone, and in the aftermath of that resided an implication of a cold realization. The substitute had never been an adequate form of compensation. Granted that parts of him had been satisfied –filled almost to the top so that happiness fell just within his reach; fingertips barely brushing over it, getting a small enlightening taste– but the reality of it was, the dream had always been so far off that it had eluded him. She hadn’t fixed the problem; she had only kept him from seeing how badly he’d wanted the real solution.





“So I was right then…” the stranger replied with a grin. The silence had answered the question but he had already known that it would.





“Get out!” Itachi commanded with a brusque tone. His head was dizzy with the contradicting feelings that were soaring inside of him. He felt so guilt-ridden, so ashamed and confused because these were all the emotions that he was trying to avoid.





“But it’s still raining…” rebuked the cocky reply, and for Itachi it was the final straw.





“I don’t care. I want you out!” He snapped. “Who do you think you are to come in here and speak such things to me anyway? Things that you shouldn’t even know about!”





As if he had been waiting all night to hear those words, the stranger stood up and walked calmly around the small table until he stood in front of the raven. Not fearing the madding look in his opponent’s eyes, he smile arrogantly and whispered words a dismal above of silence, yet the notes were louder than the crackling of thunder overhead. “Uchiha Itachi, I’m the demon that’s come to pity you…to take away your woes…to fulfill your desires. You’ve been waiting for me your whole life. I know you don't want to push me away.”





Surprised by such a statement –and even more perplexed that the stranger knew his name– Itachi opened his mouth to demand some kind of explanation, but instead found a pair of cold lips pressed against his own. Before the realization of what was transpiring could be fully acknowledged, the feeling of a warm tongue slithered into his threshold and Itachi’s black eyes widened slightly at the delightful feeling it produced.





Automatically guilt plagued him again. His wife and lover had only died nine months ago—he had been, and still was, racked with bereavement. So how could he find the strangers actions exciting? How come his knees were quivering as his heart burned with lust for more? More contact, more feeling, more touching and tasting.





Bitterly, he knew the answer but the realization damned him more than anything. He had always wanted this—wanted this touch, to feed this desire. It was a sin, something forbidden, and yet he didn’t care. Right now he was falling into something far too deep, but the decent was so lovely that he couldn’t turn away.





The kiss between them deepened and absentmindedly Itachi wondered about the words that had been whispered to him. He didn’t believe in the likes of demons; albeit the theory almost made sense with the way the situation was playing out. Maybe this man wasn’t really a man? Either way, it didn't matter to him though. It wasn't like the stranger had lied to him or persecuted him for his choices. Furthermore, he longed for the continued touch that he was being given—desired for much more than just simple caresses and thoughtless kisses. He wanted to feel the sensation of this creature inside of him, molding their bodies as one so that for once he could live more than a lie; so that he could die with true happiness and not complete regret.





Feeling cold hands tug at his shirt –popping off the buttons one at a time– Itachi deemed that he wasn’t going to fight it anymore. If this demon wanted his life, then it was fine because in exchange for this one moment in time, he would happily give it to him.





At the prolonged lack of oxygen Itachi’s lungs burned, and he found himself gulping down air when the stranger finally pulled back, those frozen lips moving towards his neck where he could feel sharp fangs sink into his skin. It hurt like hell but he longed for more of it. His body trembling as he felt the essence of life slip out from under him; the world drifting away like oil floating on water – like he was freefalling endlessly into the darkness itself. The collaboration of sensations made his heart flutter. His blood pumping faster as he held on to each image in his mind—each touch, each stroke, each suck or nibble spawned from those cold, chilling lips and equally frozen hands. This demon was death—this demon was his desire. This demon was killing him and Itachi didn’t care if he died.





Taking in a shaky breath Itachi could feel the world spin and then suddenly he was against the ground and on his back. His shirt being pulled from his gaunt form, brutal kisses assaulting his body and he gasped from both pleasure and pain. Everything about the situation was wrong, but Itachi let himself be swept away by the current. Pulled down and then held under as his lungs were filled with a frigid sensation of chilled air that made his chest burn like it was on fire. He had never felt so alive, yet with each brush of the stranger’s hands, he felt his life slip away. It was a bittersweet counterbalance—an edge of fear consuming his heart mixed with the throe of emotions that kept swimming deeper. Suddenly he regretted meeting her, loving her and marrying her, because the feelings this stranger provoked were nowhere near the level that she had given him. These feelings were continuous, they flowed freely, they made real sensations flicker through his body, and it was so much better than when he’d tried to pretend.





Itachi closed his eyes as that talented but wicked tongue roamed down his body, the act so simple and yet utterly consuming. Despite the coldness that was found elsewhere, that skilled muscle could not be classified by the same fluctuation. It was warm, almost hot, making his blood boil as hitches of air fled from his lips.





Itachi gasped, his mind tumbling so far from the grief that had once consumed him. She didn’t matter anymore—she had never mattered. All that he could feel was this moment and the emotions that were swallowing him whole. It was at that point Itachi knew that it was far too late to turn back –and as if sensing the magnitude of what that signified– the fiend used his teeth to pop the button off the raven’s jeans, sliding his velvet tongue down through the gap and against the flesh. Slowly, he dragged the muscle along the other’s bare skin.





In turn Itachi moaned at the blissful sensation, his hips thrusting up as he desired more contact. Shakily his hands sought the comfort of the stranger’s red tress; the said digits weaving there way though the silky strands, tightening their grip with need.





Retracting his tongue the demon took the zipper between his teeth and tugged it down playfully before pulling the garment lower. Immediately his lips sealed around Itachi’s erection as it sprung free, and he dragged the raven into a whole new world of pleasure.





“Shit,” Itachi hissed as the man sucked eagerly on his cock; long drawn out motions followed by quick paced sucks. Each moment of contact had him withering in satisfaction as his body sunk further into elation. It was just too much, so many sensations flowing through him. Itachi’s back arched and his hips pushed themselves deeper into that warm cove of heat, desire pulsating in his loins. He was damming himself now and he knew it. He was throwing away everything that he’d cherished about her, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.





Fingers clenched even tighter around those long red threads and the desire to call a name fumbled on his tongue. Still, no such information had been given, and yet a sound whispered inside his mind, so delicate that it felt like a warm spring breeze sweeping over his form. “Kyuubi…” it was the name he said out loud as his emotion overflowed and spilled fourth, hot seed filling that talented mouth as the other sucked his labors away.





“You really aren’t like the rest you know,” Kyuubi noted a second time when his lips retracted from that flaccid member and wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand. It was an odd fact, but it was indeed true. Most people would have become scared when he brought up the legend, and especially when he admitted to being a demon. Nerves would have frayed; that feeble reminder of death would have taken fight. It was those sensations that Kyuubi usually provoked and lavished in—how he fed and kept up his existence in a world where most of his kind no longer dwelled. Fear was such a delicious sensation too. The way his body resonated to very vibration given off from his prey, every thread that he stole, every piece of flesh that he devoured, and he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy it.





Itachi though – he was different. He wasn’t afraid. And when Kyuubi had first stumbled upon the house and looked into those lost black eyes –that if only for a second had been captivated by him– he knew right then and there, fear wasn’t the best sensation to draw from the raven. It was passion, lust—desire and those fruits were a rare treat in regards to compatibility. A source that he could only properly draw out in certain people, and it had been hundreds of years since Kyuubi had last tasted those sweet emotions.





“I’ve dammed myself now haven’t I?” Itachi questioned once he’d managed to catch his breath, his black eyes carefully watching the fiend looming over him as his lungs settled into a steady pace and realization fell in order. He could clearly see the hunger against those red orbs, the demon feeding off of him as they spoke, so eager to taste what he was like inside and out.





“I hate to tell you, but you dammed yourself a while back.” Kyuubi corrected, equally watching the man that was sprawled out underneath him. Dark eyes as soulless as a rotting corpse, long threads of hair that were black like the tress of a raven, and skin so soft, so smooth, that most humans would have been envious. If the demon looked past the mortality aspect, Itachi’s form almost replicated something divine and fuck if that didn’t turn him on.





Kyuubi licked his lips with eager anticipation and he continued on. “From the moment that you invited me in actually; it was then that your destiny became inescapable—that you became mine.” Hands settled on Itachi’s thighs and the demon wrapped his boney fingers along the inconvenient material that was only half removed, completely stripping away the cloth and discarding it off to the side. More pale flesh was reviled to him and he ran his sharp nails down that expanse of skin, leaving angry remarks against the raven’s thighs. Itachi hissed in pain but Kyuubi could see the pleasure stratified beneath.





“Do you want me Itachi?” Kyuubi suddenly questioned, already knowing the answer but desiring to hear the reply as he moved back over the human. “Because I know I can take you, but it’s so much sweeter if you submit—if you give into me with your own free will.”





Itachi’s breath hitched as Kyuubi’s body moved between his legs to overlap his frame, the other’s nose grazing his neck, taking in his scent before that tongue slipped out to taste his skin. Immediately Itachi’s hands darted out, touching that cold flesh that seemed to warm a bit at the additional contact. He wanted to ask about why that was, but his mind lost the ability to form words when sharp teeth took to his ear and bit down. The force was hard enough to draw blood, but at the same time, sweet enough to be arousing.





“You have to say it you know…” Kyuubi scolded, that pressure gone as the other’s talented tongue took to licking the shell of his ear with feigned apology.





“I…” Itachi started, his mind grasping to make sounds. It was hard though and it became even tougher as as Kyuubi’s left hand draped down the side of his body; intervals of cold and hot sensations playing at his mind.





“Tell me how much you want me to fuck you Itachi… renounce your love for your wife and embrace your desire… give me your body, let me devour it. Let me devour all of you.”





The human’s mind fumbled again and his breath caught as that hand continued its course; eventually stopping to play with his cock. Nails grazed the skin and the grip Itachi had on Kyuubi’s shoulder and waist, increased its pressure exponentially.





“I know you want it Itachi. Just give in. Every second longer that I touch you, I can feel the need consume you a bit more… ” Letting his words hinder the demon gripped Itachi’s cock firmly, first stroking the head with his thumb, and then teasing just the slit; the tip of his nail slipping between the two edges of flesh as it dipped inside. Itachi gasped and shuttered violently; his body demanding more as his mind relished in all the wonderful emotions.





“P-please…” he choked and Kyuubi grinned, his nail retracting as his hand stroked all the way down Itachi's leaking shaft, moving to tease those taut balls beneath. The torture the raven received there was just as bad, and Itachi’s mind fluttered with so many blissful sensations that it was overwhelming. “Please,” he tried again. “I need you… I want you. I never loved her. All I want is you inside me.”





“That’s a good boy,” Kyuubi chuckled, his hands moving past the sac he’d been squeezing; now keen on heading towards Itachi’s puckered entrance. Pressing one digit into that clamped entrance, the demon watched the spawned reaction with delight. Even if his fingers were long and narrow, he could see the vibrations of pleasure wash over Itachi’s face at being penetrated.





“Fuck Kyuubi…” the raven groaned, a weak and shaky arm shifting to hold the demon by the nape of the neck, bringing their lips together in a searing kiss that set Itachi’s whole body ablaze. Ecstasy crept in from the corners of his mind and he moaned into their conjoined thresholds as the demon obeyed and added another finger. It was heaven wrapped in perfect accordance. Itachi’s mind swimming as those two digits stretched him to accommodate the girth that would soon replace them and those lips sucked away all the air from his lungs. He felt like he was dying. He felt like he was being reborn—as if up until that point he’d never really existed. But here underneath Kyuubi the world finally felt right.





“I need you inside me,” Itachi panted when his lips finally detached themselves from the demons, his black eyes glazed with lust.





Kyuubi smirked but didn’t say anything more, his fingers leaving the human as he drew back and pulled down the zipper to his pants, allowing his own member to be freed. It was of decent size, an angry red color and leaking considerable at the thought of fucking the form that was beneath him.





Positioning himself at the entrance Kyuubi gave no warning as he breeched that tight ring of constriction, pushing into equally wondrous depths of heat. It had been a long time since he’d fucked another demon and even longer in regards to being with a human. In that aspect the sensation almost seemed overwhelming, and when he was finally balls deep, he paused there a moment to lavish in the vice like grip. Itachi felt perfect. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me…” Kyuubi grinned, his cocking eventually sliding out in a smooth, flawless motion before it was returned again to that perfect heat. “Best ass I think I've had in a long while."





Not wasting any time, Kyuubi quickened the pace, the feeling of Itachi’s nails digging into his back, making the moment even more pleasurable. Of course the demon wasn’t just getting gratification from the sex, but the emotional exchange that they shared as well—his life force sucking up Itachi’s with every thrust, melting all the sensations together. “Such a good fuck...” Kyuubi confessed, that needy body withering against him as he thrust even deeper, hitting that sweet spot that had Itachi shuttering his name and grappling the edge.





“Shit, Kyuubi…” Itachi closed his eyes as he felt the rising pressure pool in his belly, fraying his nerves and sending nothing but gratification flowing through his entire body. It was beautiful and at the same time he knew he was dying. Kyuubi was draining his life away, but the feelings enveloping him numbed him to that cold touch. “I can’t… it’s… fuck,” Itachi rasped as the meshed sensations finally became too much and he spilled over the edge, not even needing to touch himself, but so consumed by the emotions pouring through him.





Instantaneously Itachi could feel a warm heat fill his body; Kyyubi’s red eyes holding equal satisfaction as they both lavished in the emotions that washed upon them.





“Kyuu…” Itachi started, but he found that couldn’t finish because he was suddenly too weak. Trying to stay conscious Itachi felt his whole body tremble, his eyes splotching with dark threads as his hands slipped away from the form above him. He wanted to stay awake, but he couldn’t. His eyes felt so heavy, his breath so faint, and for a moment he wondered if his heart was still beating, or if he was just imagining that it was.





Finally closing his eyes, Itachi unwillingly gave into the darkness; the world fading away into nothingness for what he was sure would be the last time.





Above him Kyuubi pulled out of the lifeless body and smiled.





...





A sinking feeling hit Sasuke’s gut as his black Mercedes pulled into his brother’s front yard; his mind unable to ignore how abandoned the place looked, nor the forlorn undertones that came with it. He really hadn’t wanted to come back to the place under these circumstances, but it seemed like he didn’t have a choice. For the last three days he’d been trying to get a hold of Itachi, but had succeeded to no avail. Frustratingly, the phone always kicked to voice mail, and when he'd call the police station, they'd informed him that they would look into it whenever they were in the area. He hated to admit it, but he was sure it was the legend. Something evil had come for his brother and spirited him away in the dead of night.







Stepping out of his car Sasuke nervously looked around, his black eyes taking in the gloomy vista before turning back to the house that was equally ominous. He hated how his brother had to pick the creepiest place in the world to live and that there was a chance that it was haunted too.





“Aniki!” he called, his feet treading over the soft ground that hazardously sunk in a little with each step. It seemed that the constant rain had damaged the terrain and Sasuke grimaced as he nearly fell and then got stuck in the mud before finally freeing himself and stumbling onto the porch. He swore this place was bad luck. Nothing good would come from it.





Straightening his back and kicking off his muddy shoes, Sasuke looked around a second time. Slowly, he could feel the dreadful feeling in his stomach grow tenfold. It worried him that Itachi wasn't answering.





Sasuke’s chest tightened a bit more and he tried to swallow the knot that was idly bobbing in his throat, the one his stomach had just spit up and refused to take back down. Goosebumps ran up his flesh and his fingers wearily grasped the edge of the closest shoji screen, griping the panel with trepidation before he let out a long breath and slid the thing open.





“Hey Aniki are you here!”





Nothingness—that was all he was greeted with.





Nothing but the silence of the house and the faint sound of the furin as it clanged in the distance, playfully stroked by the contour of the wind. “Aniki where are you…”Sasuke questioned again, but this time his voice seemed much smaller, as if his subconscious already knew of the events that had taken place in the house several nights prior. “Answer me please…”





Again there was nothing.





Not having much of a choice, Sasuke stepped into the house, weary of the action but desperate to find his older brother. He knew that they didn’t spend a lot of time together, but he cared for Itachi deeply and never wanted to see anything bad happen to him.





The weight of his body caused the tatami mats to creak in constant succession as Sasuke moved through each room of the ancient house. With every fusuma opened his heart peaked a little with hints of hope, but was quickly smothered by the disappointment of reality. Itachi wasn’t there –and as Sasuke opened the screen to the room where he had seen his brother– he was again greeted with the same outcome.





“Itachi…” the name left his lips with sadness this time, feeling conflicting with wisps of fear and guilt. He shouldn’t have left his brother alone. He should have never let Itachi come to such a place. This was all his fault. Something bad and happened and now it couldn’t be undone.





“Hey… what are you doing here?”





With the sound of an unexpected voice and the contact that came with it, Sasuke literally jumped and foot and spun around, his body losing its balance as his feet tangled and the momentum of gravity cause him to painfully tumble to the floor. “Shit…” he gritted, pain seizing his tailbone as angry eyes looked to the owner of the voice. With all his heart he wanted to believe that it was Itachi, but what stood before him was something akin to ethereal and terrifying at the same time.





The man—if he was a man—had long threads of silky red have that moved down thin shoulders, haunting crimson red eyes and the statue of evil incarnate.





“Where’s my brother?” Despite the fact that he was massively terrified, Sasuke was sure this figure knew where Itachi was, or at least what had happened him.





“Your brother…?” Kyuubi drawled and then grinned. “Oh you mean Itachi? He’s not here anymore… I ate him up; he was very delicious.”





Sasuke’s visage twisted with horror and he pushed himself back and to his feet, trying to get some distance between him and the stranger. He didn't know why, but every nerve in his body was suddenly on edge, and something told him that the words just passed between them – they were intended to be anything but playful.





Kyuubi grinned at the fear he was extracting from the other. Honestly he was too full to eat from his romp with Itachi, but it was amusing nonetheless. “What’s the matter, are you one of those people who believes in the legend of the demon? Are you afraid I might devour you too?” Kyuubi implored, taking one step forward which had Sasuke grabbing a nearby ikebana and chucking it at him.





“Stay the fuck away from me!” He yelled.





Partially due to bad aim—and the rest the result of quick reflexes—the fine piece of pottery flawlessly whizzed by red locks before smashing against the opposite wall, breaking into a hundred unfixable pieces.





“You can’t hit the broadside of a barn can you?” Kyuubi taunted.





“Fuck you!” Sasuke yelled, fear clinging to his voice as he grabbed two kakejiki from the wall and threw that at the demon as well. The scrolls didn’t really fare much better, but they weren’t supposed to. Rather, they were simply a distraction as he made his real move.





Running across the area Sasuke gripped the shoji screen that led to the backyard, his hands yanking the wood hard enough for it to fall off the track as he darted outside. He might have actually gotten away too, if he didn’t unexpectedly run into something solid.





“Sasuke…?”





Confused black eyes averted upward and Sasuke felt like he was going to cry. “Aniki!” he yelled, his arms immediately reaching out to embrace his brother. Itachi wasn’t dead. He was alive, but that man had said—that man had said…?





Suddenly remembering the red-head, Sasuke let go of his kin and tried to push Itachi back. “Hurry! We have to go; he’s going to kill us!”





“Who’s going to kill us?” Itachi spoke confused, not budging from his spot as he ignored his brother's cries and looked into the room instead.





Sasuke’s mixture of panic and relief faded into perplexity, and the younger man pulled away from his brother, not understanding what was going on. Even if that guy had been lying about eating Itachi, he was still visible and nothing short of creepy. There was no way Itachi could miss that. “The man right there—” Sasuke started as he turned around, but the room was empty. Furthermore, the ikebana was right where it belonged, unbroken, and the same could be said for the kakejiku: both scrolls hanging from the wall. “But… he was right here.” Sasuke’s befuddled face turned back to his kin who was watching him carefully. “I swear Itachi. He was right here. He had long red hair and evil looking eyes and he told me he ate you! He definitely wasn’t human.”





“Sasuke…”





“I mean it; I’m not fucking crazy. He was here and he was going to kill me. Itachi I was so—” Sasuke opened his mouth to say more but he found his brother's finger hushing his lip.





“Otouto, look at me. Does it look like there’s anyone else here?”





“No but, before…”





“You know, I think you’re letting that superstitious garbage get to you again. There’s only you and me. Which by the way, what are you doing here?”





Sasuke scowled. He was not letting anything play games with his mind and he felt insulted that Itachi would say so. No. He’d seen the man. It had been real. He knew it had been. He’d never felt so scared in his whole life and some figment of his imagination wouldn’t have caused that. Still, the second question caught his attention, hindering the first.





“What do you mean what am I doing here? I couldn’t get a hold of you for the last three days and the cops wouldn't do shit.” Sasuke’s eyes drifted around the room again as if the stranger might randomly reappear at any second. “And I know you don’t believe Tachi, but there’s something evil in your house. I spoke to it; it was going to kill me. Please come back to the city with me. I’m worried about you."





Itachi sighed and pushed his little brother back inside the room, sure to leave the shoji screen open so Sasuke wouldn’t freak out and start rambling again. “I can’t come back with you. I’m happy here,” he started, urging his brother to sit down at the kotatsu. “This is really where I want to be and I think you’ll be able to see that for yourself once you calm down and rest a bit. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard Otouto. I’ll go make some tea. It’ll calm your nerves.”





Sasuke frowned and crossed his arms as he watched Itachi exit the room. He felt like he was being patronized, but he supposed that was nothing new. Itachi had always refused to believe in things he couldn’t see and couldn’t be persuded otherwise.





Dark eyes nervously scanned the room and chill ran down Sasuke’s spine. He could have sworn someone was watching him and he shuttered as the smell of ash oddly clung to the air. “Hey Aniki… I think I’ll help you make that tea,” Sasuke called, quickly getting to his feet and padding into the other room. There was certainly something in the house—Sasuke just didn't know how to prove it.





...





After several hours of talking in circles, Sasuke finally found himself being kicked out of his brother’s house, Itachi fed up with his ‘stories’ and what they entailed. Maybe he didn’t have any proof yet, but Sasuke knew one day he’d show his brother that there was something evil in the house. “You know, you should have a priest come out here and cleanse the place,” he suggested, slipping on his muddy shoes before he nearly killed himself trying to make it to his car. “Not to mention get a gardener, because you really need to do something with this fucking yard.”





Itachi snorted a bit on the first part, but had to agree with the latter. The lawn needed some work. He'd slipped and fell a few times already. “I'll think about the second one,” he informed, watching Sasuke passing him a frown. Itachi countered it by ruffling the other’s hair. “You worry too much you know that. I’ll be fine. There’s nothing out here, save for the mud, that’s going to get me. I promise."





Sasuke still looked skeptical, but he got the feeling if he directly mentioned the ‘red-haired man’ one more time, Itachi was going to ban him from visiting ever again. “Yeah I know… I just… you’ve been through a lot and I really don’t like this house. I wish you lived closer.”





“Oh so you miss me then?” Itachi grinned.





“Please, don’t be so presumptuous. It just costs less if I need to come check up on your ass, and I wouldn't have to spend six hours driving.” Sasuke corrected only to find himself being pulled into a hug; Itachi's warm arms around him.





“Don't worry, I love you Otouto." The elder patronized before giving his kin a kiss on the forehead. "Make sure you drive safe okay.”





“Yeah,” Sasuke grumbled and slowly pulled away, though he actually wanted to stay. It was odd, but Itachi seemed like he was doing a little better. His aura didn’t feel as sad; nor did his expressions feel as heavy. Maybe living out in the country wasn’t a complete mistake, but Sasuke still couldn’t condone the current location. “I’ll call you when I get home. Make sure you keep your battery charged this time Aniki... ”





The last part sounded like he was being scolded, and Itachi knew that's because he was. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it charged,” he promised, waving to his brother as Sasuke’s took off down the road. When Itachi could not longer see the black Mercedes, he felt a presence stir behind him. He knew who it was, but his reaction to the demon was not the same as Sasuke’s. “You were mean to him you know.”





“I was just having a little fun,” Kyuubi spoke, chills running down Itachi’s spine at the way the notes caressed his senses. He still hadn’t gotten used to the other. Maybe he never would either.





“Well you didn’t have to scare him so badly. Telling him you ate me was a bit much I think.”





Kyuubi snickered. “But I did eat you, and you tasted amazing,” his arms snaking out to seize Itachi’s waist, pulling the human’s back flush against his chest. “In fact I kept hoping that brat would hurry up and leave so I could devour you again. Maybe next time I’ll just fuck you against the wall while he watches.” That tone dark and playful as one hand sunk lower, digits slipping under the waistband of Itachi’s pants to graze the half-stiff member. “I’d bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? I know Sasuke would probably shit himself.”





“You seriously need to behavior yourself,” the Itachi scolded, but his voice lacked hostility as he melted against those sweet ministrations.





In truth, Itachi had never expected to live though that first night that he’d shared with Kyuubi, but he was glad that he had and that things had transpired the way that they did. In regards to the demon, he knew the choice to let him live had initially been a sexual one. For Kyuubi it was like getting to have his cake and eating it too. All that desire and sex on top of it.





Still, Itachi was also aware that the demon wouldn't senselessly hang around him so much if their connection was based on physical aspects alone. It was a matter that Itachi was still trying to find balance in, but Kyuubi was slowly helping him heal and move forward. Moreover, being with the demon did make him happy. Sure, Kyuubi was a little pushy and egotistical, not to mention a sadistic asshole at times, but Itachi was slowly learning how to deal with that—slowly finding that it wasn’t so bad. He was kind of interested to see where things would take them too. It certainly was an odd relationship they shared and there was no guarantee on how long it would last.





Itachi knew he wanted to make the most of it though.







He wanted to make the most of everything now.





~End

 

Author's Note: So I really didn't like how this story turned out, but I decided to post it here anyway. Hopefully some of you will enjoy it.