Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ My Business ❯ My Business Part 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Authors Note: Hey look at that! I actually updated. x3 Uh... okay well, this is going to be a littttle longer than a two-shot. I don't know why but I've decided to drag it out as long as possible. xD; I love ItaXSasu. <33 Read and Enjoy. I do not own these characters (sadly) but the plot is mine. Alternate universe, etc etc.read and REVIEWWW!

btw, my program is being retarded so everything is all clumped together. i apologize! c.c
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As soon as the words had passed through his lips, Sasuke knew it was a mistake. Itachi wasn’t particularly violent, but when he was provoked or challenged, he did have a tendency to get mean. He’d never really physically harmed Sasuke so much as spit on his ego and stomp it into the dust. He was good at that, especially since the younger of the Uchiha siblings was living in the older, more successful shadow already. His confidence, despite all his efforts to show otherwise, was very fragile. It wasn’t uncommon for Itachi to expose this, and use it to his advantage. Considering the way the boy had so viciously hissed his words, he would no doubt be pissed. Setting his jaw, Sasuke’s fingers continued to grip the material of Itachi’s shirt, even as he turned to face him, dark onyx eyes narrowed to mere slits. “I fail to see how,” he replied stoically, his gaze dropping to the slender hand that was clutching onto his person. A dark eyebrow rose in question, before he lifted a hand to brush away the tightly clinging digits. Stepping closer to Sasuke, he kicked the books aside, and they fluttered noisily to the other end of the room. Sasuke managed to hide the small grimace as he heard pages tearing, and instead focused on the cool, frightening smile of his brother as he came nearer. The boy planted himself firmly where he stood, and tilted his head back to regard his older sibling with fire in his eyes. He wouldn’t show weakness here, not now. “You know damned well,” he sneered, but he found himself suddenly backing up. It wasn’t because he feared the taller figure that was coming steadily closer, but more because Sasuke found that the closer he came, the more his body reacted. And there was something in Itachi’s eyes that made the hairs on the back of his neck raise--made his body instinctively retreat. His shoulder blades bumped into the wall, and his hands pressed along the smooth surface firmly to ground himself. Itachi had stopped his advance, and he stood mere inches from him. They were so close--so close. He could feel the heat coming from his body. A flash of blond hair and an immature grin swam through his mind, and he frowned as Naruto flickered before his eyes. Momentarily confused, he forgot where he was, and he nearly lost his composure when cool fingers ran along his forehead, slipping under the bangs that swept along the skin. His head hit the wall as Itachi pushed his skull backwards, and he tilted his cranium upwards to elevate some of the discomfort accumulating at the base of his neck. “Maybe I don’t know?” Itachi asked, his voice dangerously low. A faint smirk was dancing along his lips, and Sasuke realized then just how close their mouths were. “You know I don’t care,” Sasuke seethed, inching to the side ever so slowly. Itachi’s grip on his forehead tightened, and his free hand lifted to rest on the wall beside Sasuke’s face. His eyes were burning with some kind of fury, and although he hadn’t figured out what it was yet, Sasuke was aware that he was in deep. Of all the times to see his brother, why did it have to be now? Had Itachi really come home so late, when their parents were both out, to tell him this? That he was ditching the wedding, because he didn’t feel like going? With a renewed anger and some semblance of the self he usually portrayed, Sasuke gave a small, haughty shove at Itachi’s shoulders. An attempt to create some space between them, for the younger Uchiha was starting to find it hard to breath. “Then why are you getting so upset?” Itachi quipped, amusement dripping like poison from his voice. His thumb ran along the line of Sasuke’s eyebrow, and he chuckled deeply, darkly. “You’re so weak,” he murmured, tilting his head. His eyelids drooped some, and he leaned closer, ignoring Sasuke’s attempt to distance himself. “So easy to read.” “Don’t be such a fucking prick!” Sasuke yelled suddenly. His voice cracked from the strain in his shoulders as he gave a violent shove to Itachi’s torso. The other allowed himself to be propelled backwards, barely stumbling, before regaining his balance. He smoothed back his hair, before giving a soft shake of his head. Sasuke’s body was convulsed in shivers now, despite his attempt to remain cool. He often managed to maintain a stoic, indifferent attitude around Itachi. But that was when he kept his distance. He wasn’t used to such close contact... and it wasn’t simply close proximity, it was more intimate than that. “I don’t give a shit what you do,” Sasuke continued, his voice thankfully, more steady than he felt. “But just because you hate your own family, you should at least honor someone else’s by appearing at their wedding. Especially when they invited you there in the first damned place!” “What makes you think I give a shit about honor?” Itachi laughed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “What gives you any reason to think I would do something like that? I don’t see how it will benefit me. It’s a waste of my time.” Sasuke’s pulse was racing. Whether it was from their close encounter or the adrenaline coursing through him because of anger, he didn’t know. He mustered up the best glare he could summon, given he was quite shaken, and stalked over to his books. Kneeling down, he began to pick up the ones that looked like they’d suffered the most. His Japanese History textbook was torn at the spine, and as he lifted it from the floor, several pages floated carelessly down onto the wooden paneling. He honestly had difficulty deciphering his brother. He never showed this side unless he was with him--unless they were alone. He rarely spoke, and whenever he did, it was only words of hatred that stung Sasuke more than the many slaps he’d received from their father. He was always so confused, how he could love someone who hated him so much. He had questioned himself many times, whether it was an obligatory love, or whether it was in fact, lust. He was a teenager after all--everyone was always going on about raging hormones. Perhaps even the great Uchiha Sasuke could fall victim to this as well? Brushing off the notion, Sasuke collected his damaged books and deposited them onto the desk that sat just below his window. The blinds were drawn, and he was thankful, for he did not want to see his reflection at the moment. He could still sense Itachi’s presence in the room, and looking over his shoulder, he allowed his face to drain of all emotion, and their eyes met. They stared at one another for what seemed hours, before Itachi parted his lips to say something. As he did, the front door on the main floor slammed closed, and their mother called up from the base of the stairs, “Itachi? Is that you, are you home?” Blinking in a distracted manner, Itachi seemed as if he was going to ignore their mother's question, when a loud thump-thump-thump alerted both siblings that she was making her way up the stairs. Muttering a small 'fuck', Itachi turned just as the door opened, and a breathless looking woman smoothed back her hair. Her dark eyes wandered from Itachi to Sasuke, who swallowed and willed the scarlet rising along his throat to vanish. Itachi's face had cooled from its previous expression; the smirk gone, the malice in his eyes non-existent. He even greeted their mother with a somewhat welcoming smile. She returned it if not nervously, and her gaze fluttered back to Sasuke. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked quietly, her eyes then dropping to the floor. “I just saw your car in the driveway, and I didn't know why you were home--we had no notice of your arrival.” “I was just telling Sasuke about the wedding,” Itachi said firmly. It wasn’t a cold voice, but it was detached nonetheless. Detached and distant, and Sasuke felt frustration boil up inside of him. He would really rather have the angry, seething Itachi he had witnessed several moments earlier than this lying, cool and unemotional vessel that pretended to be his brother. Fingers curling into fists, Sasuke turned to his mother.
“You’re not going to just let him do this, are you?” he asked with an incredulous tone. “I mean for God’s sake, this is a wedding.” “Well he is an adult dear,” his mother replied, obviously becoming uncomfortable with the situation. She began to back out of the room, and she did not lift her eyes from the floor. Sasuke never really raised his voice to his mother; she never scolded him when he did, either. He was nearly as bad as his brother when it came to stoicism, and he had just experienced first-hand how frightening it could be when someone like that blew up in your face. This didn’t keep him from getting angrier though, and he stepped forward, ignoring his brother’s presence in the room. Yanking the door open, he pulled it back so that his mother had nothing to hide behind. His eyes flashed menacingly, and his nails bit into the wooden frame on the edge of the door’s structure. “He’s an adult,” she stammered again, “and well, he does have his studies to look after, Sasuke.” “What about me?” Sasuke asked. “I have school too! At least he has somewhere to go if Father comes home in a bad mood--I have to put up with his shit!” “Watch your language!” his mother said suddenly, and she seemed to regret saying this instantly. Her fingers curled around one another, and she shook her head, lowering her face from view. Stepping back further out into the hallway, she turned her back and began to shuffle towards the stairs. “I think I’ll go put the groceries away,” she muttered shakily, her small hands grasping for the banister. “You two carry on; don’t mind me. I’ll be in the kitchen if I’m needed.” Sasuke stood there staring at the space where their mother had stood. He could feel Itachi behind him, but he was far from caring. His fists clenched and unclenched as he tried to calm his breathing. What was it about Itachi that he loved? What was it about Itachi that made him act so different around him? He was cold, mentally abusive, apathetic, and seemed to have no emotional attachment to him whatsoever. He had long ago forced himself to forget the image of his brother at the age of thirteen; the times they had spent together before their father had started bearing down on him about a good education. The times when they would be with one another easily, and talk and the times when Sasuke actually felt loved. Now, he felt like something their father was using as a means of boasting. He was often telling anyone he could of Itachi’s current situation, and he was always quick to follow with; “And Sasuke is definitely following in his footsteps!” It had crossed his mind more than once that they were both only tools. Tools to show their father’s success. Not only was he an amazing businessmen, but he had a beautiful wife and two intelligent sons, a nice home, and a weekly salary larger than the price of a new, brand-name car. He was startled out of his thoughts when cool fingertips slid underneath the hem of his shirt, and wandered up to curl around a sharp hip bone. With a small tug, Itachi pulled Sasuke back against his front, and lowering his mouth, he brushed it along the nape of Sasuke’s neck. Sasuke was very very still, and swallowed when his brother’s breath whispered along his hairline. “Keep that up and you’ll get the shit kicked out of you,” he murmured, before pushing the boy away from him. Sasuke stumbled forward, but his fingers caught his door frame in time to keep himself from falling down completely. Lifting his head, he blew several strands of dark hair out of his eyes before shooting a glare towards Itachi. The look he received was one of mild amusement, and his brother stepped across the threshold to his room and turned towards the stairs. He didn’t say a word as he descended them, and Sasuke didn’t ask any questions. Re-entering his room, he slammed the door so hard that the window panes rattled. His back pressed flat against the wooden surface, his knees buckled and he slid along its length. Closing his eyes once he was seated on the floor, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He hadn’t meant to lose his composure, but it had upset him. He knew the real reason that Itachi wasn’t going to the wedding. He would keep telling himself it was just because he didn’t want to, but he knew in the back of his mind, his conscience, that it was because he was going. Itachi couldn’t stand him, and although Sasuke put up the false pretence that he felt the exact same way, it was a lie. And it was turning into one he was finding harder and harder to keep up. (*) As he had predicted, the wedding was far from enjoyable. He wasn’t particularly fond of the first part, but the reception was what got to Sasuke the most. He could honestly think of better things to do than waste an evening in a hall full of loud, drunk people dancing and eating until they were ready to split at the seams. But then again, he reasoned that this was most likely due to his rather anti-social, introverted personality. And so he was content, or so he feigned, to sit at the table he had shared (awkwardly) with his parents, nursing a glass of wine while they danced on the floor with the bride and groom. He had barely managed to keep a grimace of disgust from slipping onto his features, and he finished off his glass in a single gulp. Why had he even bothered to come? He was good at lying, he could have just pretended to be sick at the hotel; no doubt his father would be disappointed, angry even, but he really could care less. He would rather take a physical beating than suffer the long; many hours of mental torture he knew lay ahead. It was roughly eight O’clock; the reception had begun around seven. Kill me now, God. He pleaded, slouching back into his chair. His dark eyes gazed around the large hall with little interest, and he waited for something to strike him. Maybe a knife to come flying towards his head. But alas, when nothing did happen, he groaned. His misery was cut short however when his eyes fell upon the nearly full bottle of wine that was stationed in the center of his table. Trying to appear nonchalant, the teenager poured himself another glass and took a rueful sip. The taste was bitter and he wasn't particularly fond of it, but he mused that after a few more sips, he would grow accustomed to it. And he did. (*) The Uchiha wasn’t really aware of the time, but he knew for certain that the dance floor was definitely spinning. He had come back from the bathroom after having washed his face--Sasuke felt uncomfortably hot in the black pants and dress shirt his mother had forced him to wear--and he’d stumbled back to his table, only to slide into his chair and fall forward. His mother, who had taken a break from dancing, was sitting there upon his return, and she set down her glass of wine when his forehead hit the table. She called his name, and he didn’t bother to answer--his eyelids were suddenly very heavy. And, he found, if he concentrated very hard, the music didn’t seem so loud anymore. Nor was it as annoying. “Sasuke?” his mother asked again, giving him a soft shake. “Sasuke? Sasuke, what is wrong with you?”Once again, he didn’t bother to answer, and he was about to slip into blessed unconsciousness when a heavy hand fell upon his shoulder. Eyes opening partially, he looked up through his lashes, but couldn’t make out the hazy figure that was speaking to his mother. He was about to open his mouth to say something, when a strong arm encircled his waist and jerked him to his feet. The unannounced motion caused him to sway, and, equilibrium disturbed, Sasuke stumbled off to the side. The arm kept him from falling though, and he was well aware of several curious glances he received. “I’ll take him back to the Hotel. Where is it?” His mother murmured a quick response, and sent a nervous glance to Sasuke. He felt his lips curl up in a lazy smile, and he lifted a hand in a slight wave. “How much has he had to drink?” “I don’t know--” his mother replied, her eyes falling to his glass. “We said he could have a glass at dinner, and then we started dancing...” “Well I’ll take him back to the hotel and make sure he eats something.” “Don’t let him fall asleep,” she replied hastily. There was a pause in response, before the person who was holding him replied, and began to tug Sasuke towards the exit. Sasuke didn’t protest much, but he found it rather bothersome to lift his feet. Eyes narrowed, he tried to focus on the face of the person who was dragging him outside and away from the hot room. Cool air hit his face as they stepped outside of the hall, and Sasuke sighed in relief before letting out a small groan. The movements stopped, and he slumped up against a brick wall, his fingers grappling for something to hold onto. His knees gave out, and he slowly slid down to his heels. Resting his forehead in his hands, he took a deep breath and swayed before slumping back with his rump on the ground. Lifting his face, he opened his eyes and found that the world had momentarily stopped spinning. He was surprised and somewhat horrified to see Itachi look back down at him with an unreadable expression. Trying to call forth a sneer, the Uchiha couldn’t manage more than a snort, and he pressed himself up against the wall. “Get up,” Itachi ordered. “I’m taking you to the hotel.” “I’m fine here.” “I’m only saying it once.” Itachi snapped coolly, but his eyes narrowed. Sasuke didn’t reply, and simply settled for crossing his arms, and tearing his gaze away from irritated eyes. The silence between them was a long one, and although Sasuke hadn’t heard him leave, there were no movements to indicate whatsoever that Itachi was still present. Curiously, he turned his head back but immediately regretted it as soon as the ground lost it’s focus. He felt as if he was spinning again, but this time it was so violent that his stomach began to churn. Leaning to the side, he pressed his forehead against the cool cement of the sidewalk. This felt a little better, and he was content to just lay there peacefully, his body growing heavy, and his eyes closing. But Itachi, who seemed to still be there (a very bothersome thing to the younger prodigy at the moment) would have none of it, and grabbing him by the upper arm, hoisted him none-too-kindly to his feet. From then, he was dragged to the curb, where his brother flagged down a taxi. Sasuke had closed his eyes for fear of becoming sick again, and when they were finally in the hotel suite, he was surprised. The door closed behind him, and he felt Itachi pulling his jacket off of his shoulders. Stumbling forward, Sasuke groaned and reached for the bed. Itachi grabbed his wrist and spun him around on his feet. His back hit the wall, as did his head, and he soon found himself very close--if he were not so drunk, he would have probably been uncomfortable--to his brother. “You’re not sleeping,” was muttered, and in Sasuke's hazed mind, he wondered exactly why he wasn't allowed to.
“I’m tired,” Sasuke replied simply, and let his head fall back against the wall. His eyelids drooped, and annoyance rose inside him as Itachi’s hand closed around his throat. Eyes opening, he struggled a moment to narrow his gaze, and pleased that he could focus on his features, let out a small, irritated groan.
“Let go,” he demanded, a hand slowly finding its way to rest on Itachi’s. His fingers fastened onto his older brother’s, and he struggled to pull the constricting hand away from his neck. It was rather uncomfortable, and the wall behind his back felt as if it was beginning to fall away.
His struggles were silenced as a pair of warm lips descended upon his. He complied to the kiss immediately, and surrendered to the brute force of his older brother as he rammed him back into the wall once more. He didn't mind this and instead, he retaliated by biting the other's lower lip. Hard enough to draw blood, and he did so, licking his own lips as the coppery liquid dribbled along his tongue. Itachi let out a snarl, and his grip on Sasuke's throat tightened. Sasuke traced the outline of Itachi's tongue with his own, and pushed back with just as much force against his brother as the other invaded his mouth. His fingernails bit into the skin of Itachi's hand as they continued to ravage one another, and when Itachi pulled away, Sasuke nearly complained.
To his credit, he didn’t, and simply glared at Itachi. He was breathing harder than he had been before, and Itachi rested his forehead against Sasuke’s. His grip did not relent on his throat however, and Sasuke was more than happy to keep a firm hold on Itachi’s hand. They stayed like that for several minutes, and Sasuke’s mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened. They had kissed. They had just kissed. It was fair to say it was far from brotherly-behind it there had been tension and aggressiveness, and although Sasuke’s mind was still very hazy, he thought he also felt a sort of restrained lust. His cheeks felt very warm, and he shifted his position, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his shoulder blades. Itachi seemed to read this, and he pulled him away from the wall. Sasuke’s grip on the other’s hand faltered and he swayed to the side. He would have pitched forward and hit the floor had Itachi’s arm not wrapped around his waist, and Sasuke let out a strange, strangled noise when his airway was cleared and his brother’s hands fell to his hips.
“How much did you have to drink, Sasuke?” Itachi asked, and his hands moved to pull Sasuke’s shirt out from the waistband of his pants. Sasuke’s mind went blank as he did this, and he nearly went slack in Itachi’s arms. What was going on?

“I don’t know,” he said irritably. He honestly couldn’t remember. He had had a few glasses before he’d just started downing the entire bottle. He hadn’t noticed his state until he’d stood up to go to the bathroom and nearly fell back down again. The floor was still spinning now, and the only thing from keeping him from falling was his brother.

“Why do you care?” he asked thoughtfully after a moment. “And why the hell are you here?” he sneered, turning to look over his shoulder. Itachi said nothing, but proceeded to work on unbuttoning his shirt. Sasuke lifted his hands and made a weak attempt to yank his fingers away. He stumbled forward and sank ungracefully to his knees, clutching the bedspread on one of the beds in the room. He yanked it off in an attempt to keep himself balanced, and simply settled for falling onto his side, and pulling it over him. It was a half-hearted attempt at giving himself some cover, and although the floor was hard, the warmth radiating from the blanket, although stifling, was comforting in a way that Itachi’s cold hands were not.
“You are a fucking idiot,” Itachi said simply, dropping to his knees beside Sasuke. Sasuke snarled when Itachi yanked the covers off of his shivering body, and the older gripped his shoulders before pushing him onto his back. Sasuke frowned and did not fear showing his irritation at having been disturbed. Flexing his fingers, he arched his back and extended his arms to push at Itachi’s shoulders. His head was beginning to hurt, and he didn’t want to put up with this right now. Itachi had to know that. He hadn’t meant to get drunk in the first place, and this was not what he wanted to be doing.
Itachi brushed away Sasuke’s struggles, and laced their fingers together. He yanked his arms up above his head and leaned forward, pinning the boys hands down firmly against the floor. Lifting a leg, Sasuke brought it up to kick at Itachi, but he in turn swung a leg over his side and straddled the younger’s hips. The cold warning in his eyes would have made Sasuke think twice about his actions were he sober, but at the moment he just wanted to get something to drink, and go to sleep. He continued to writhe underneath the other, doing nothing more than tiring himself out, and he let out an angry growl when he quickly discovered he wasn’t really doing anything.
“Get off!” he yelled eventually, when it became apparent that Itachi wasn’t going to move.
“What are you going to do?” Itachi quipped with little amusement, leaning down over him. Their mouths were inches apart, and with Sasuke’s struggling, their lips brushed several times. Sasuke was panting by now, and he grimaced when Itachi smirked against his mouth. “You’re drunk, little brother,” he said mockingly, his voice dropping to a mere whisper. “And even if you weren’t, you couldn’t do anything about it. Not when you want it.”
“I don’t,” Sasuke hissed, giving a persistent tug on his arms.
“What kind of twisted mind do you have, Sasuke?” Itachi whispered against his jaw, and he traced his lips along his skin. Sasuke jerked away from the touch, and resumed his kicking. Itachi didn’t let this bother him, and he simply looked up from his spot at Sasuke’s throat. He let go of Sasuke’s hands, and began pulling the remaining buttons of his shirt apart, exposing a large expanse of pale skin. Sasuke’s struggles became verbal, and he was quieted when Itachi pressed his mouth against his for a second time. He was not as quick to comply to this kiss as he had been the first, but he consented eventually when he realized that he could move his arms.
He was surprised when cool air hit his chest, and Itachi pushed the material off of his front with what appeared to be impatience. Sasuke pushed against Itachi’s shoulders again as his hands began to wander down his exposed sides, and Itachi in turn bit his lip. It wasn’t as painful as it could have been--more like a warning. He continued his struggles however, and without notice, the pads of Itachi's thumbs brushed over his nipples. A warmth swam through his nerves at the contact, and Sasuke nearly pressed himself up against Itachi for more contact. He could feel Itachi smile against his lips, and he bit back a groan when he did it again.
“What’s this?” Itachi murmured against his mouth, letting his fingers splay out along Sasuke’s chest. Sasuke failed to answer for fear of letting out some sort of strangled moan, and Itachi seemed to realize this, for he bent his head down to his collarbone and ran his teeth along the heated flesh. Hissing out a string of curses, Sasuke shoved at Itachi, although it noticeably lacked the previous energy his other struggles had possessed. This couldn’t be happening, could it? He had to be more intoxicated than he’d originally deduced. He was unsure of how much one had to drink in order to hallucinate something like this--have it feel so real--but he had taken in a lot of alcohol, and he’d never really been drunk before. Was he dying?
As Itachi’s tongue traced along his skin and lapped at a nipple, he clenched his teeth, and fisted his hands in his hair. He needed to figure a way out of this. If this was an illusion, he could just make it disappear, right? Closing his eyes, he willed with all his thoughts--although it was proving to be rather distracting as Itachi’s mouth continued to venture downwards--but to his irritation and dawning agitation, nothing was happening. Well...something was definitely happening, but not what he wanted. And then...
A peculiar feeling began to build inside of his stomach, and if it were not for the fact that Sasuke was more than legally intoxicated, he probably would have been able to distinguish between the growing ache in his lower belly and the nausea that was beginning to work its way up his body. Trying to prop himself up on his elbows, the younger Uchiha failed rather miserably at this, and slipped. His head hit the carpeted flooring and stars swam along his vision, before he let out a breathy groan. It wasn't one of pleasure however, and he gave a desperate shove at Itachi's shoulders before rolling onto his side. Scrambling onto his knees, he swayed before lifting his gaze. The entire room was moving, and the alcohol combined with the sudden movement distorted his equilibrium horribly.
“Itachi,” he bit out as large hands closed around his narrow hips, “Itachi--let go. I’m going to...”
Bile rose in his throat, and he gave another shove before scrambling to his feet. He nearly fell onto the first bed on his way to the bathroom, and he clipped his elbow on the counter as he made his way to the toilet. His knees buckled as dry heaves wracked his small frame, before everything he’d eaten that day, including all the beverages he’d consumed, came rushing up his throat, out his mouth and into the porcelain bowl. His shirt had slipped from his shoulders in his efforts to make it to the bathroom, and he shuddered as cool air washed over his back. Goose flesh rose along his shoulder blades, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when a warm pair of lips descended upon the nape of his neck. Any arousal he had felt before was gone, and he felt only a lingering dizziness from the alcohol, which he’d assumed had now more or less left his system.
Head lolling to the side as Itachi pulled him back from the toilet, a distant flushing was heard, before water trickled along his lips. Sasuke’s eyelids fluttered as a warm cloth was pressed against his mouth, and he let out an irritated groan of protest when he was pulled to his feet.
“This is why you don’t get shitfaced,” Itachi murmured against his ear, before he threw him down on the bed. “Especially when you have no alcohol tolerance. Anyone could do anything to you and you wouldn’t be able to stop it.”
“Asshole,” Sasuke sneered, pulling himself onto his elbows, “I can take care of myself perfectly fine.”
“Didn’t seem that way to me, little brother.”
Opening his mouth to protest, a grunt was all that escaped his lips as Itachi leaned over and pressed his back firmly against the mattress.
The hand splayed over his chest did not move, and instead, the older leaned closer with one knee resting on the edge of the bed to support himself.

“But then again, I’m not just anyone, am I Sasuke?”
It was probably the booze (what was left of it) that was still circulating throughout his system, but Sasuke’s entire face grew warm as his brother laid down the truth. Of course he had to know. Itachi wasn’t stupid, and although Sasuke did make great efforts to hide his feelings from anyone, Itachi had lived with him for so long...he knew all of his habits by now, and he could read the damned kid like a book. Something nobody else seemed to be able to do. Which was one of the many things that got under his skin.
“Why the hell did you come?” Sasuke bit out, desperately needing a change of topic. “You told me you weren’t coming.”
“Is that why you downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself?”
“Answer the fucking question.”
“Not until you answer mine.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” sneered Sasuke, “Have a great time like everyone else?”
His chest was heaving with anger, and with a rough shove demonstrating more strength than he had shown earlier, Sasuke got to his knees and pointed an angry finger at Itachi.
“I didn’t drink because you didn’t come, I drank because our parents hate each other. They hate each other, I was stuck there with people I hate, and my asshole brother was out god knows where doing god knows what!”
“You sound like you were worrying about me, Sasuke,” Itachi said in a mocking tone, a smirk coming to play along his lips. “I’d be careful if I were you, it sounds almost as if you care.”
“I don’t,” Sasuke bit out perhaps a bit too quickly than he should have. “I don’t give a shit about you. You can g fuck yourself.”
With an unexpected movement, Itachi pulled his entire body onto the bed. Sasuke’s reflexes were still too sluggish from the alcohol, and he was not able to avoid his brother’s hand as it shot out to close around his forearm. Pulling him forward, Itachi manipulated the momentum so that he was able to jerk Sasuke’s slight frame forward, and he twisted him around so that he was once more on his back. With this new-found position, Itachi applied all of his weight onto Sasuke’s wrists, and pinning him there, leaned down to press a chaste but lingering kiss atop Sasuke’s forehead.
“I could,” he said thoughtfully, but then a wicked smile crossed his angular features, and he shifted his hips ever so slightly. It wasn’t a bold move, but they were close enough so that with the movement, their hips aligned. Perfectly. Sasuke, stiff now, dropped his gaze before lifting it back up with a haughty, guarded expression. “But why would I fuck myself, when you’re here?”