The Married Life

The days of summer were sluggishly coming to an end; it was still obscenely hot in Konoha, but not quite so humid. Itachi had settled himself under the largest tree in the park; it supplied him with a fair amount of shade while he watched Sasuke play with some of the other academy students. Presently, his brother was yelling at a cute blonde boy, the only thing giving his identity away was the whisker marks that aligned each of his cheeks in perfect symmetry.

It was Naruto, the Kyuubi holder.

Itachi knew about Kyuubi, he knew that inside that little body was enough chakra to probably destroy Konoha. Although, unlike the other adults who scorned Naruto for his existence, he was intrigued by him. All that power sealed tightly into the blonde’s form, Naruto was going to be one hell of a ninja.

Sasuke and Naruto were arguing again, as per usual. The blonde was pushed by some girl with pink hair and had fallen onto Sasuke’s sandcastle; the taller boy was pissed to say the least. The two boys were ready to duke it out for their pride on the playground when Itachi finally stood and walked slowly over to them.

Naruto was much smaller than Sasuke, he was all awkward limbs and spiky blonde hair, and he had none of the grace Sasuke had, but there was something both cute and feral about him that made him so attractive as he scowled up at Itachi. The boy had no sense of respect for his elders; he even played pranks on the Hokage.

“Knock it off.” Itachi grumbled at them, fighting the urge to play favorites and tell Naruto to beat it.

“But, Niisan!” Sasuke protested, latching onto his arm. “He started it!”

“It was an accident Sasuke, he fell.” Itachi replied, running his fingers through his brother’s bangs, trying to calm him with the gesture. The younger Uchiha only pouted before turning to glare at Naruto. The other returned the look defensively.

Itachi sighed, untangling his arms from Sasuke’s grasp and perching himself this time on the edge of the sandbox to monitor the activity. His brother, still flushed with anger, settled near him and began digging into the sand again, trying to reconstruct his diminutive citadel. Naruto however stood in front of Itachi, settling the elder boy with a defiant stare.

“What?” He asked boredly, and the younger just kicked up a bit of sand in his direction and went to find another amusement.

This was a normal afternoon for the Uchiha boys. Sasuke would whine about wanting to go to the park, and after a while Itachi would give in to the cute pout and kiss his brother firmly with a smirk. Then they would come here, to the playground, where Sasuke would usually get into some trivial argument with Naruto, and Itachi would have to break it up.

Whenever they came home Sasuke was always blindingly happy about spending time with Itachi, and the elder boy was satisfied just watching him relay their adventures to Mikoto while she finished dinner.

He was still constantly thinking about his younger sibling, just not on such a sexual level anymore. Sure, he still liked to touch Sasuke, feel his lithe little body wriggle restlessly under him while they fucked, but he was fine just watching him play around the park, or even sleep, in aw of his beauty. Itachi found himself just wanting Sasuke around him, no matter what they were doing.

“Niisan, do you like my sandcastle?” The younger boy asked, dark eyes wide and inquisitive. The sandcastle itself was drooping on one side, the tiny gold particles sliding to look more like a small, misshapen hill than a castle.

“Hai,” He replied, regardless of the castle’s appearance. He would always like whatever Sasuke made if it would make the other happy.

“Love you, Niisan.” Sasuke murmured into his shirt, as his thin pale arms wrapped around Itachi’s torso.

A shocking blossom opened up inside Itachi as he realized how dangerous their situation was. This seed had planted itself inside him near the beginning of their married life, and now had flowered into something so twisted, yet stunning; love.

In the beginning Itachi had loved his brother, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, and he still did. But, now he was in love with Sasuke. As odd as that sounded, it was true. Before, Sasuke had only been something exotic, yet familiar, that was to be used for lust and then when finished with, to be coldly tossed away. Now, he was something to keep, to value, and to love…

“You’re sick Itachi,” Someone hissed at his back. He turned sharply to regard cold brown eyes. It was Hana.

He stood, glowering at the younger Uchiha while grabbing her wrist tightly in his hand. “Come on,” He said, dragging her towards the woods.

“Let go of me pervert!” She shouted, trying to wriggle her way out of his grasp. “I don’t want your hands touching me!”

“That’s not what you would have said a week ago.” He growled, slamming her up against the abrasive brown trunk of a nearby tree. Hana’s breath caught in her throat on impact, shutting off any reply.

“You know what!” She shouted, once her breath was back. “I don’t give a damn about what you’ll do to me, you can kill me for all I care! But, I want you to know Itachi; it was me. I told what you did to him.”

His eyes shot open.

She told.

It was out, everyone knew.

Hana had the nerve to look smug at Itachi’s apparent astonishment. He got his bearings back quite quickly though, and wrapped his fingers tightly around her throat, giving her the most blank, emotionless look she’d ever seen on his face.

The hand closed tighter, leaving Hana gasping for air. All of Itachi’s instincts were telling him to kill her; she was a threat, and not something to be tolerated.

“Niisan?” He heard a soft voice behind him, and dropped Hana to the ground.

“Hai? He ground out.

“What are you doing?”

He turned to Sasuke, his hands tightly fisted, bitten down nails leaving bloody crescents in his palms. “Nothing, let’s go.” He replied, picking the younger boy up and leaving without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Niisan?”

“Hn?”

“You’re shaking.” Sasuke said quietly, brushing his fingers across the top of Itachi’s hand.

He wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so he ignored it, nearly jerking his hand away from Sasuke’s, as if burned. The younger looked hurt for a moment, but was distracted by the various vendors nearby.

Itachi was terrified. He’d never been so shook-up in all of his life, none of his missions had ever been this bad. Hana’s words stung his ears and burned into the back of his mind, and he wondered what he would see once he returned home.

Would the front yard be over run with police, while his mother sat hunched over on the step, distraught and wailing for her baby? His father, would Fugaku beat the shit out of him for being a sick fuck? Would there be relatives to snatch Sasuke away from his side, spitting fire at him as he was cuffed and dragged off to imprisonment?

He wasn’t sure. But he did know one thing; for Sasuke he’d kill them all.

There was nothing, when the main house came into view. There was nothing, no police, no broken mother, no seething father, and no disgusted family. Nothing, just the orange glow from the sun, spreading like fire across the lawn. Itachi sighed.

“Boys?” Mikoto yelled from the kitchen when she heard the door open and shut, and two pairs of feet shuffling out of their sandals. Sasuke dashed into the kitchen, his bare feet padding against the wood floors.

“Home!” He shouted, hugging her tightly. Mikoto pushed him away from her body, and held him at arms length.

“You’re filthy!” She cried, trying to rub some of the smudges off his cheek with her apron. “Go wash up, dinner’s almost ready.” Sasuke pouted at her cutely, but she just pointed in the bathroom’s general direction.

Itachi moved out of the way as his rather displeased sibling stalked by.

Everything was starting to seem normal again. Itachi was beginning to think that maybe Hana hadn’t told, and she was just saying that she had to get him shook up for the rest of the evening. He sighed, that meant he was safe, for now anyway.

“Oh, Itachi,” Mikoto began, taking a bite of whatever she was cooking. “Hana told me the most peculiar thing today.”

Itachi’s blood ran cold.

“Oh?” He questioned, trying not to sound too intrigued.

“Yes, she said that she saw you kissing Sasuke the other day at the park.” Mikoto laughed, and put her wooden spoon down. “I told her that was ridiculous. What do you suppose had gotten her to say something like that?”

“We had a fight.” He deadpanned; hoping that whatever luck had gotten him this far with out getting caught was still with him.

“You did?” She asked incredulously. “When did this happen?”

“The other night.” He had to wipe the sweat forming in his palms on his sleeves, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “She’s just lying to get back at me.” Itachi was hoping beyond all hope his mother was stupid enough to believe that.

“That seems a rather strange thing to say to get back at someone.” Mikoto’s back was to him now as she took the pots off the stove.

“Maybe Hana’s strange.” He tried. His mother snorted, turning to look at him.

“Maybe.” She said, tossing her apron at him. “Will you hang that up for me?” He nodded and placed it on a hook near the counter.

“Okaasan, am I clean enough?” Sasuke asked from behind Itachi. She smiled at her youngest son, walking forward to ruffle his hair and pinch his nose.

“Hai.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The whole evening was terrible. Dinner had been awkward, with Itachi picking at his food rather than eating it, distracted by what his mother had said earlier. Then, when he was helping with the dishes afterwards, he nearly broken most of them, sending the porcelain bowls downward, out of his trembling hands and skittering across the floor in a thousand pieces.

Mikoto had been cross at his display of anxiety and sent him to bed to get over it. So, here he was, staring up at a blank white ceiling, where he had been for hours. Sasuke was long since asleep, which was usual, but his parents were still downstairs. He could hear their murmurings through the floors, and he wasn’t sure how willing he was to get up and go find out what they were talking about. It was eating at him though, their quiet voices gnawing at his insides, part of him was screaming to stay in bed, but the other part was curious.

The nosy side won out, and as silently as he could, using every ounce of stealth he had in him, he crept out of his room and towards the stairs. Itachi didn’t intend to go as far down as he eventually did, but over the thudding of his pulse in his ears he couldn’t hear what his parents were saying.

“What do you think we should do?” It was Mikoto, from what Itachi could tell she was standing near the doorway to the living room, her hand gripping the doorframe gently.

“I don’t know.” His father replied sounding weathered. “Do you honestly think Itachi would do something like that?”

Itachi peered around the staircase watching his parents continue their discussion, with his breath held.

“I don’t know, I mean I really don’t want to believe it. But, Fugaku, what if it is true and we don’t do anything about it, then what’ll happen to Sasuke?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t want anything like that to happen to my baby. If it is true, I don’t know what I’d do to Itachi…”

“Don’t say that.” Fugaku growled. “Itachi isn’t stupid, he’s a genius for god sake! If you think he’d be dumb enough to do something like…molest his own brother you’re insane!”

Itachi winced at those words. Only a few things affected him, and the way his father spat out those words was one of them.

“I just don’t know. They’ve been acting so weird lately…” Mikoto sighed. “I’m so lost I don’t know what to believe.”

“So ask him.”

The dark haired boy on the stairs could nearly see his mother’s irritation as it rolled off her in waves.

“I already did,”

“So, what’d he say?”

She scowled. “He said that Hana was lying.”

“Well, there you go.” Fugaku replied, standing up from his spot on the couch. “It’s settled, Hana was lying, and this was all a bunch of rubbish.”

“But, what if it was Itachi who lied?” Her voice was hurt, stressed, and worried. She sounded torn between wanting to know the truth and not.

“Don’t you think Sasuke would have said something by now?” His father suggested, gathering Mikoto in his arms.

“That’s the problem, I don’t know. Does Sasuke even know what sexual-” Her words were caught on a sob as she buried her face into Fugaku’s broad chest. His wide hands coming to rest on her back, rubbing in soothing circles.

“If it worries you this much I’ll sit them both down for a talk tomorrow, and clear things up a bit okay?”

Itachi didn’t hear the end of it, he’d nearly flew up the stairs, and shut his door behind him, blocking out Mikoto’s sobs, and his father’s comforting words.

He was sweating, but cold at the same time. His insides iced over, in fear and shock. So, they knew, or at least they had some idea of what was going on. It really was too good to be true. Having his beautiful little brother for his own was too wicked of a secret to be kept unexposed.

Some whisper on the edge of his mind was telling him what to do, guiding him through his motions as he tossed clothes into a backpack, and whatever money he had, before throwing off his clothes and dressing as quick as he could in his ANBU uniform, leaving the mask though, just deciding to wear the all black garb instead.

Itachi snuck out of his room for a second time that night, only this time he headed in the opposite direction, towards the window at the end of the hall. His window was at the front of the house and anyone happening to look out his or her own window would see him leaving. He decided it would be much safer to take the route through the woods.

Itachi crept down the hall, pausing just a few feet away from the window, in front of Sasuke’s door, those whispers coming back again.

Take him…

He shook his head. That was absurd; taking Sasuke would only prove his guilt.

Take him…

Itachi was torn from just saving his own skin and taking the gorgeous boy with him.

Take him…

Fuck it.

At this point what did he have to lose? His family already didn’t believe him; taking Sasuke with him wouldn’t do too much damage. Okay, so that was a rather large understatement, Itachi thought, but it was worth it.

He nudged Sasuke’s door open, twitching at the soft creak it made. Stepping inside he took his nearly full bag from his back and starting stuffing some of his brother’s belongings in to it.

“Sasuke,” He whispered, leaning over the younger boy’s sleeping form, a small smile tugging at his lip at the sight. Sasuke was curled on his side breathing deeply, the ring Itachi gave him, clutched in his hand. “Sasuke, wake up.” He fluttered a soft kiss on the younger Uchiha’s forehead.

“Niisan?” Sasuke groaned, blinking blearily at Itachi.

“Put this on.” He commanded, helping the younger boy sit up, and pull off his sleep shirt.

“Where are we going?” The smaller yawned, letting his brother direct his body, like a puppet.

“The summerhouse.” Itachi replied blankly, searching for an extra pair of sandals, he knew would be lying around somewhere.

“Oh.”

Sasuke must have been too sleepy to realize what Itachi had said, and merely directed his brother towards his closet. “The sandals are in there.” He pointed.

Itachi rushed towards the closet, his heart pounding in his chest.

Creak.

The stairs groaned as his parents made their way up. His mother was still sniffling, trying to reassure Fugaku that she was all right. Itachi nearly ripped the closet door open as his fright sent him into automatic motions. He hastily made his way over to Sasuke and shoved the younger boy’s shoes on, before grabbing his bag and wrenching open the window. He motioned for Sasuke to come over to him, and nearly screamed when the boy wandered over slowly. Itachi grabbed his brother and hopped up onto the desk that was conveniently placed underneath the window.

However, he forgot about the lamp that held its perch on one of the shelves.

Itachi watched in mildly guarded horror as the lamp crashed to the ground.

“Fugaku what was that?” Mikoto whispered, her voice shaky.

“I don’t know. It came from Sasuke’s room.” He replied.

Although, Itachi couldn’t hear his father’s footsteps he knew the older man was coming. Hopping up on the windowsill, he leapt out onto the roof, sliding down the gutter before slipping across the moonlit yard like a shadow.