Butterfly-free

Chapter 1

He remembered the feeling of his slick, sweaty body ramming into his. His sweat smelled like rare, expensive cologne.

His hips were powerful, dominating Itachi with each thrust, the transfer of warmth from his body to Itachi's facilitated by the sweat between them. Itachi felt each thrust hit a delicious spot, making Itachi stretch beneath his weight as he grunted into Itachi's ear.

Don't go there, Itachi tried to tell his mind, his fantasies. Please. Please, don't go there.

Itachi clenched his jaw so hard he wondered – in his desperate state – whether a tooth would crack or chip from the force.

But go there, he must. He couldn't help it. Especially this time of year, the same time of year it had happened.

Another image came to his mind, this time of his large hand grabbing the sheets next to Itachi, the silky material folding from the force. 'You turn me on so fucking much', that fistful of sheets told Itachi. 'The primitive man within me wants to hurt you but my heart does not. I want to grab your throat and cease your breathing. But I also want to be the air in your lungs.'

He had moaned over Itachi, then. Itachi loved hearing him moan because he was usually silent. His moans were like warm honey to Itachi, his grunts raw and full of pleasure. When he grunted and moaned, Itachi felt as if he were being electrocuted in the most blissful way; his skin sparked to life – the fine hairs on his body standing upright in pure pleasure.

And it was Itachi's job to take him back down to Earth in that way he knew only he could because he'd told him so.

Itachi would grab his short, curly hair, pull himself up from where he was laying on his back and instead force him onto his back, straddling his hips as he was deep inside his long-haired lover. Images of his warm, brown eyes flashed before Itachi's mind; they were hot, seeking, needy.

Stop it, Itachi told himself. Stop it or you will hurt yourself. These memories are a sharp knife, and you're playing with the edge.

Itachi tried to come back to the present, tried to come back from the memories. He listened to the crunch beneath his feet; the snow lay like a thick, white blanket on the ground and it was getting thicker as feathery flakes fell from the skies, as if the angels were puffing their pillows. He stretched his face up, wondering if twenty-three was too old of an age to catch a flake on his tongue. He had liked that aspect of me. Another forbidden thought. That's why I liked him so much. I never hid any part of myself yet he wanted me.

That was a lie. I had actually hidden one part of myself for quite some time. The part that wanted his heart. The part that wanted his cut-off love – the forbidden fruit.

"You're so fucking sweet", he'd told Itachi as the long-haired man rode his cock, grabbing his long hair as Itachi leaned his head back and moaned.

Involving himself in a sexual relationship with his boss had not, Itachi admitted, been the brightest moment of his life. Itachi knew he was usually bright – having earned a place as a web developer in an office at the age of twenty-one after three years of programming education. He had a boss, and he knew that boss had a boss... And so the list went on until reaching the top of the hierarchy: the CEO. Itachi had never given much thought to the CEO. However, he was impressed to find out that the CEO was only twenty-nine. According to the mundane office gossip, the CEO was frightfully smart and apparently handsome. Although, some disagreed with the latter – arguing that no one had ever actually seen him. The speculation was that he thought himself above others and didn't want to mix with his employees. Itachi didn't find that thought pleasant.