Carry

7

The closeness to Itachi caused his heart to race.

Itachi stood behind him in front of their bedroom mirror as he got ready. His curly hair was still wet from the shower. While he put a cream in it that would maintain the wet look, Itachi looked at him with intent, the tension between them still strong since their argument. Shisui thought his partner was incredibly cute in his oversized blue sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder and flared, black trousers. But he noticed Itachi liked the way he looked, too. As Shisui buttoned his crisp, white shirt up, Itachi stood behind him and placed his hands on Shisui's abdomen, still strong from years of training, stroking the soft fabric over it. Itachi leaned his head back, sighed with his hands closed, still buttoning, leaving the top button open. Shisui put on dressed, black trousers. Itachi buttoned them for him, zipped them up standing behind him so they hung loosely off his hips. He put his hands on Shisui's strong hips then, stood on his toes and placed his lips on the ridge between Shisui's strong neck and his shoulder, tracing the path there like a wanderer going between point A and point B on a map. To Itachi's utter delight, Shisui leaned his head back and moaned. Let me show you, Itachi thought. Let me show you that to me, you're still the same, if not more than what you were.

They went out in silence, taking the subway. They didn't hold hands. Itachi knew it wasn't because they didn't want to; it was because both of them knew they would die of hunger if they did. The touch of their fingertips would turn into the touch of fingers, the touch of palms, arms snaking together, torsos colliding, hips pressing together, Shisui's cock in Itachi's warm body right then and there on the train floor. It would be like a dangerous wave beginning as a mere shiver on the water, growing until it became a tsunami.

They could not afford to drown.

On the dancefloor, they are apart at first. Itachi had taken two shots, but Shisui was sober, his clear eyes locked on Itachi. Itachi looked away; he was shy, shy of the man Shisui was now he'd come back to himself, he hadn't seen him in so long. Itachi's hair flew behind him, a beautiful flow broken into pieces by the blinking strobelights. Itachi turned away from Shisui, and the curly-haired man got closer until he could place able hands on Itachi's hip bones.

Itachi leaned his head back and in the loud music being poured into their ears as wine, Shisui could still see the moan on Itachi's face.

Itachi turned around then and their eyes were like four delicate ambers with the sun shining through them, connecting them with something untouchable as light. Shisui leaned his forehead into Itachi's and they drank each other's memories, everything they'd shared. Their first lecture, where Shisui had sat next to the long-haired then-boy, now-man. Their first Zumba class together, which had been Itachi's last. That time Itachi had taken Shisui to his apartment when Shisui was drunk. Their first kiss. When Itachi had bought Shisui his first laptop that had made him thrive throughout his years in university.

The first time they made love.

They leaned together and their lips collided.

"Come with me", Shisui murmured, braiding their fingers together, lifting Itachi's hand to his face, kissing his hand. "Let's go home."

"Shisui..."

Itachi lay on his back in their soft mattress, sinking down with his partner's weight on top of him. Itachi was a light ship on the frothy white ocean that was the bed they'd shared for so long, Shisui the invaluable load in it. Itachi spread his arms next to himself on the bed, enabling Shisui to entwine their fingers. Shisui looked at Itachi in awe, desperate to kiss him but also not wanting to look away.

"Itachi."

His voice was dark, like dessert wine. It tasted just as sweet against Itachi's lips.

Itachi moved then, softly made Shisui lay on his back.

"Itachi?" This time, it was a question. 

"Let me work for you", Itachi asked.

He fumbled Shisui's shirt buttons open, noticing how the larger man hardened beneath him. Itachi desperately pulled his own trousers and underwear off; he wanted to grind him. Shisui leaned his head back and pinched his eyes closed in that way of his when he indulged in something extra delicious. Itachi moving his naked groin against Shisui's dressed one was one such thing. Itachi leaned forwards onto Shisui's chest and started to moan as he grinded. That sound rendered Shisui insane. He grabbed the lighter man's waist and Itachi immediately sat up once he saw Shisui's determined gaze. Shisui saw with glee that Itachi pointed to the heavens. Shisui pulled his trousers down, desperate to see his size fill the man in front of him.

He did not have to wait; Itachi immediately climbed over his hips and sat down, slowly, carefully. Shisui loved how the muscles of Itachi's face played beneath his glass skin to display the varying degrees of pleasure within.

There had always been something tender about Itachi, something careful, something that made it impossible to imagine the long-haired, lithe man in bed. In the beginning, they only made love. But something changed once Itachi grew older, became more mature and independent in his sexuality. Now, Itachi could fuck. Shisui looked at him now, completely mesmerised as Itachi rode his dick, his arms lifted to play with his hair, letting it fall in soft waves over his shoulders as he moved, head leaned back, eyes softly closed, moaning. He was practically dancing above Shisui, until Shisui could take it no longer.

With one swift and practiced movement, Shisui swung Itachi down on his back and stood on his knees behind him. As Itachi stood up on all four, Shisui put hai palm on his back, forced the upper part of his body back down.

"Good", Shisui murmured, implying he wanted Itachi to lay there on his knees with his arms at his sides. He pushed the lumbar curve of Itachi's back down, creating a lovely arch that made the penetration swift and wet.

Shisui fucked him like someone gone mad.

Itachi was screaming into the mattress. His lover, usually silent, groaned behind him as a trail of drool run carelessly down Itachi's chin. I refuse... Shisui thought. I refuse to come before he has.

Shisui always felt when Itachi was close. First, he would tighten around Shisui's length, soft waves rolling over his bulging erection. Then, he would begin to shiver, his skin rippling just below its surface. Then, he would tremble. And then the moan. This time, Shisui turned that moan into a scream. A gate opened within himself then, spilling out milky white liquid of relief. He leaned forwards and grabbed Itachi around his waist with his forearm, pressing them close as he bucked his hips to milk out every single drop of both himself, and of Itachi.

It took them minutes to recover. Itachi had curled up into the sweetest little ball, making Shisui yearn for him in a completely different way. He had scooped him up into his embrace, kissed his glassy cheek over and over.

"I'm sorry. Let's talk. I'm so, so sorry."

"Im the one who's sorry", Itachi murmured. "I'm glad you're back. You were gone. But you came back to me."

Shisui wasn't tired anymore.