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Chapter Text

Itachi bites and chews at his bottom lip as he glances around the empty classroom; school let out nearly ten minutes ago and his mother, Mikoto, found this to be the perfect opportunity for him to meet his new first grade teacher, Miss Mei.

“-He’s just so shy and he can be so…anxious,” Mikoto had began her explanation, causing Miss Mei to look down at him with soft eyes and a kind smile, “and he’d prefer if there wasn’t much attention drawn to him when class begins-”

Itachi stopped listening after that, too engrossed by the less-than-compelling small bookshelves that are filled with easy readers. When the door to the classroom unexpectedly opens, Itachi finds himself pressing as close to Mikoto as physically possible. He clutches the hem of her skirt tightly in his little fist, peeking around her leg just in time to see a boy maybe his age approaching the three of them.

“-Oh, Shisui,” Miss Mei notices him only a second or two later, “what brings you back?”

The boy - Shisui - frowns a little, his bottom lip puffing out in a pout. “My daddy isn’t here yet.”

“He was late last week too, and the week before that.” There’s a touch of concern in her voice that Shisui wishes wasn’t.

Itachi watches the boy’s shoulders sag. He looks away from Miss Mei and down at his feet, clearly embarrassed. “I know.”

She crouches down to be at his level, offering a sympathetic smile. She knows he can’t help it and really, neither can his father. “Go ahead and sit at your desk and I’ll give him a call, okay?”

Shisui nods, murmuring a quiet, “Okay.” Before walking away.

“Mrs. Uchiha,” She says as she stands, facing Itachi’s mother again, “please excuse me for just a moment.”

“Of course, take your time.” Mikoto nods with understanding. When the teacher turns her back to walk to her own desk, Mikoto looks down at her son, noticing his seemingly transfixed gaze on the other boy. “You can go talk to him if you’d like.” She encourages, resting her dainty palm on top of his silky black hair.

Itachi hesitates, taking a moment to reconsider but ultimately nods, a timid smile on his little mouth. Mikoto watches as he leaves her side, tiny fists clenching and unclenching with building courage as he walks in the other boy’s direction.

Itachi stops to stand a little less than a foot from him, just on the other side of the desk where he sits. “Hello,” he says, voice almost too mature to belong to a six-year-old.

Shisui jerks his head up fast to look at him. He blinks curiously for a second and then grins wide, showing off his half grown-in front tooth and the empty space next to it where the other is still missing. “Hiya! I’m Shisui!” he hadn’t even noticed him when he first walked in. He’d just barely looked at the lady next to Miss Mei.

“My name is Itachi,” he says, voice softer.

Shisui makes like he’s about to reach out and touch Itachi’s hair but he manages to stop himself by make a little fist down at his side. His daddy was teaching him impulse control and would’ve so happy to know its working. “I like, um, your hair.”

Subconsciously, Itachi brushes his fingers through it. “Thank you,” his cheeks, still rounded with baby fat, get warm as a smile plays on his lips. “I like yours, too.”

Shisui’s hair is thick, black tousled curls that stick up seemingly every which way. When Shisui grins, his whole face lights up. “I’ve never seen you before,” he says and swings his legs back and forth, feet not quite touching the carpet just yet. “Are you new?”

Itachi nods. “My first day is tomorrow.”

All of a sudden, Shisui gets this look like a lightbulb is going off above his head. “Hey, Miss Mei?” He cranes his neck to look at her and Itachi is intrigued by the way his curls spring and bounce with every little movement of his head.

She’s just now setting the reciever down, the call with Shisui’s father now over. “Yes, Shisui?”

“Can Itachi sit next to me tomorrow?”

She looks at Mikoto, who is already subtly nodding. “If Itachi would like to, I don’t see why not.”

Itachi’s stomach does a little roll with three pairs of eyes on him, all of them awaiting his response. But it’s not a bad roll like that one time right before he got sick in Papa’s car last month. No, it’s not like that at all - it’s…it’s like when his Otouto is giggling and reaching for him with his chubby little grabby hands or when his Papa sometimes surprises him at the end of the week with an extra stick of dango - that’s how it feels to look at Shisui.

“I-” he looks back at Shisui and his stomach rolls again. Itachi smiles and nods, “-would like that, ma’am.”

Mikoto can’t believe her ears, she’s so shocked.

♡

Mikoto quietly pads down the hall the next morning. Passing Sasuke’s nursery, she peeks her head inside to find her youngest son still asleep in the center of his crib. She closes the door slowly until she hears the soft click of the latch catching and continues until she’s standing just outside of Itachi’s bedroom door, already open just a crack.

Its enough for her to see inside, catching a glimpse of him standing with his back facing her as he rifles through the bottom drawer of his dresser. She watches as he pulls out a few shirts, seemingly unsatisfied with his choices as he folds them and puts them neatly where he got them. He repeats this process until she finally intervenes, pushing the door open even more until her small frame can fit through it.

“You’re up earlier than normal.” Her soft voice startles him, her presence unanticipated so soon. He jumps a little, turning to look at her with surprised eyes. “Are you looking to make a good impression?” He nods with a bashful expression and she smiles, kneeling down next to him on the plush carpet. “Would you like my help?”

I want to do it myself, is on the very tip of his teeny tiny tongue that darts out to wet his lips, but when he thinks of all the shirts he’s just rejected, he sighs - a small admission of defeat. “I can’t find a shirt that looks nice enough.”

Mikoto laughs quietly, a sound Itachi knows holds no malice or mockery and together they find a tan t-shirt that Itachi does not immediately disregard, even choosing to pair it with a chocolate brown knit cardigan and Mikoto pulls out a pair of khakis from another drawer.

“Do you think it’s too much brown?” Itachi questions her, furrowing his little brows and scrunching his little nose.

“Not at all, I think you’ll look very handsome,” Mikoto assures and Itachi beams at the compliment. “I think Sasuke has a pair of overalls the same color as your cardigan. Should we dress him in those, today?”

Itachi nods eagerly in agreement.

Fugaku drops Itachi off at school on his way to work. Itachi holds his much larger hand in his, leading him down the same hallway that he followed Mikoto down the day before. The bustle of children - mostly his size, although a few of them are much bigger than he is - are starting to crowd the hallway, some of them almost bumping into him or nearly walking right over him; Itachi just barely manages to avoid them but they still make an uneasiness start in his tummy. Is this what every morning would be like? Fugaku winces when Itachi squeezes his hand with all his strength. Itachi’s a lot stronger than his teeny tiny body would suggest.

Finally, they come to the very last room at the end of the hall, room twenty-seven - Itachi’s new first grade classroom. A warning bell rings, signaling there’s only a few minutes until the beginning of class and it sends another flurry of small children rushing to hang their belongings on a long strip of hooks leading to the door. 

“Itachi,” Fugaku’s voice is a bit more stern than he intends as he kneels down in front of his son. As if he’s able to sense his son’s raising anxiety levels, he places his hands on either side of Itachi’s face to make him focus. “Are you alright? Its not too late to take you back home if you can’t do this.”

Itachi hesitates until a familiar sight of curly hair comes into view. Shisui ducks his head out of the doorway, looking around as if searching for something - someone. When he spots Itachi and their eyes meet, he grins and waves excitedly.

Itachi’s eyes meet Fugaku’s again and with a deep, steadying breath, declines his offer. “No, that’s okay. I’ll be okay.” The tightness in his chest somewhat dissipates as well as the trembling in his hands now that his focus has been brought to something - someone - else.

“If you’re sure.” He gives Itachi an awkward smile of sorts (he’s trying, under Mikoto’s guise to be more…affectionate. Turns out children needed emotional support, who knew? Not Fugaku) and pats Itachi’s cheeks as he stands, “You know Mama’s number if you need to come home.”

Itachi nods with a newfound sense of confidence, catching a glimpse of Shisui making his way towards him. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Papa.”

“Right…” Fugaku nods, “I’ll be going then. Have a good day, Itachi, I expect to hear all about it at dinner.”

And with that, Itachi watches as him turn on his heels and disappear into the sea of school children. Then he turns to Shisui, now standing beside him.

“I’ve been waiting for you!” Shisui beams, his smile crooked and his eyes sparkling.

“You were…waiting for me?” Itachi blinks at him with his big doe eyes full of confusion. “Really?”

“Of course, silly,” Shisui says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world - and to him, it is. “Now, c’mon! The final bell is about to ring! You can hang your stuff up next to mine!” He takes Itachi’s hand and Itachi has no choice but to follow his lead down to the very end of the row of backpacks. There’s an empty space between the first and third. Itachi wiggles his hand free from Shisui’s so that he can tug his backpack off and hang it next to Shisui’s. “Miss Mei is really nice,” Shisui starts to babble as they head back to the classroom. “On Fridays, she makes us s’mores and lets us watch movies at the end of class.”

“That sounds-” Itachi can feel himself relaxing, the tension in his shoulders easing, “-fun.”

“It is! We’ll have lots of fun together,” he holds out his pinky towards Itachi, “I promise.”

Itachi can’t bring himself to look away from that crooked grin as he finds himself looping his own pinky around Shisui’s. He’s known this boy - what, all of fifteen minutes and some change between the two days - and yet, there’s something about him that draws Itachi in, leaving him without a doubt in his words.

The rest of the day goes off without a hitch. While some of the other children stare here and there at Itachi, the whole class has been instructed by a little note taped to their desk along with a treat, telling him his name and to treat him like he’s always been apart of their class. Itachi’s and Shisui’s both have smiley faces and a chocolate chip mini muffin.

The rest of the students of room twenty-seven abide by Miss Mei’s note, some offer smiles and shy waves when he happens to catch their eye.

All of that unwanted attention Mikoto was so worried about is avoided.

Even at lunch, Itachi is glued to Shisui’s hip, choosing to stand beside him in the lunch-line despite the fact that Itachi is holding his own lunchbox in his hands.

“Y’know, if you want to…” Shisui scratches at the back of his curls, momentarily mesmerizing Itachi with how they bounce, and points towards a table in the distance, “…you can go sit with Anko - oh, shoot, I forgot you don’t know Anko, yet, hm…okay. You see that girl with purple hair? Her hairs purple because her mom’s a hair stylist and is really cool - uh, anyways, that’s Anko. You can go sit by her and wait for me, if you want to, that is…”

Shisui doesn’t really want him to, but he also really feels guilty that Itachi is spending the first ten minutes of lunch waiting for Shisui to get his food instead of enjoying his own.

Itachi looks around until he spots the girl with dark purple hair. She’s sitting at the end of an empty table in front of the doors that lead to the playground, all by herself. She doesn’t look friendly.

“No thank you.” Itachi says politely. Instinctively pressing himself as close to Shisui’s side as he can without touching him, where he feels safer.

Shisui thinks its cute but can’t say that he blames him. “Anko doesn’t bite…I mean she does, but not too hard.” Sure, she was sharp on the edges, but her insides were kinda soft and doughy.

Itachi glances at her one more time and can’t quite say that he believes him.

Recess is where they end up going their separate ways. Shisui still assumes Itachi is walking right behind him when he follows a group of his other friends onto the big open field. Meanwhile, Itachi has actually climbed up onto the big green bench that overlooks the field, instead. In his hands is a third grade level chapter book that he managed to snag from his backpack before lunch. Over the top of the pages, he can see Shisui getting closer.

“Are you really gonna spend all recess reading?” He frowns just a little. “You can come play tag with us!” and nods towards his small group of friends, waiting for him back on the field.

Again, as politely as he can be, Itachi declines. “No, thank you.” But he still wrinkles his nose a little as he looks between the other kids and Shisui.

Shisui doesn’t seem to notice it, though. “Aw,” he puffs his bottom lips out in a pout of disappointment, “how come?”

“Because I have asthma,” he says matter-of-factly and turns the page.

“Asthma?” Shisui looks at him with a mix of confusion and concern. “What’s that?”

Itachi finishes the sentence he’s on and memorizes the page before closing the book; setting it next to him on the bench. “It means I have trouble breathing sometimes,”

Shisui’s eyes widen. “That sounds scary.”

“It can be,” Itachi admits, digging through the pocket of his cardigan until he feels his inhaler; pulling it out to present it to Shisui. “If I don’t have my medicine for it.” He stuffs it back in his pocket; the other kids are calling Shisui’s name, attempting to wave him over. Shisui looks at him bashfully and Itachi smiles. “Go play with them.”

“I’ll meet you back here and we can walk back to class together, okay?” Shisui starts to take a few steps backwards. Itachi nods, his face getting warmer as Shisui’s smile gets bigger. He turns in the direction of the others but not without shouting, “Enjoy your book!” over his shoulder.

Itachi picks up his book and flips through the pages until he gets to the right one. He’s distracted, though. His eyes drifting upwards, watching Shisui run around to avoid being tagged and becoming it. And as if he can feel Itachi’s eyes on him (or maybe they just are drawn to each other like magnets), Shisui looks at him with wind-whipped cheeks and smiles crookedly, even giving Itachi a little wave before darting off again.

Pink faced at being caught, Itachi buries his nose back in his book, forcing himself to focus on the words in front of him and not the fluttering in his tummy.

With a bright yellow visitor sticker that could probably be seen from space stuck to the fabric of her brown sweater and Sasuke, who’s trying desperately to peel off said sticker, sat on her hip, Mikoto stands outside room twenty-seven.

With it being Itachi’s first day, Mikoto wanted to pick him up right when school let out. There was also a touch of guilt in her heart at not being able to drop him off this morning; Sasuke was cranky from cutting new teeth and Fugaku was already headed this way for work, so it just made sense.

Still, she hopes the surprise stick of dango waiting for him in the car will make up for it.

She also really can’t wait to ask about his day.

No sooner does the thought cross her mind, the bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. The sound also startles Sasuke, who would’ve began crying had it not been for his mother gently patting his chest and cooing, “Shh, baby, its okay. That sound means we get to see Itachi.”

“Nii?” The fat tears welling in his waterline are quickly blinked away, caught by his thick lashes and making them clump together; his little quivering lips twisting into a toothy smile, “Nii?”

“Yes, Sasuke,” she kisses the top of his hair, its coarser - like her husband’s, and inhales that soft baby smell mixed with her perfume that’s rubbed off on him, “Nii.”

It takes a few minutes for the silver knob to turn and the door to swing open before a few children that are not her son to trickle out; they pay her no attention as they grab their belongings. A few more children come out, and then a few more, and then finally,

“Nii! Nii!” Sasuke shouts in delight, frantically pointing at Itachi as he follows behind the curly haired boy from the day before.

Itachi whips his head around at the sound of his Otouto’s nickname for him; he’s always been fond of the way he can’t fully pronounce the word. “Otouto,” he smiles, going to greet them, “Mama,”

Shisui goes on ahead to get his jacket, tugging it on and trying his best to ignore the stinging sensation behind his eyes when he sees Itachi with his Mama. He’s not crying and he doesn’t want to.

When he’s sure that he won’t, he pulls his backpack over his shoulders and grabs Itachi’s from its hook. He brings it to Itachi. “Here you go.” His voice is a little rough from swallowing down his sadness.

“Thank you, Shisui.” Mikoto does not miss the way Itachi’s eyes light up.

Or Shisui’s.

“I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.” He says looking bashful. “Bye, Itachi - bye Itachi’s Mama.”

He doesn’t give Itachi a chance to say it back before he begins walking away.

“Wait,” Itachi calls out, making like he wants to run after him but doesn’t. Shisui’s only made it a few feet away, yet he stops in the middle of the hallway to look over his shoulder at Itachi, “your daddy won’t be late again today, will he?”

It had become such a regular mishap that it hardly phased Shisui anymore - but he definitely hadn’t thought Itachi would remember that detail in their brief meeting the day before, or be worried about it today. “It only happens on Mondays and Fridays and sometimes on Wednesdays,” he says with a little shrug, “but today’s Tuesday!”

Somehow both satisfied and unsatisfied with such an answer, Itachi accepts it. “I will see you tomorrow.”

Shisui smiles at him one last time and then Itachi is staring at his back as he goes.

Mikoto can’t quite help but be in shock. She’s never seen Itachi act so…bold before. Especially not to someone he’d only just met.

She felt an inkling deep down in her gut at just how truly special this boy was about to be in her son’s life.

Finally, she finds her voice. “Are you ready to go home,” she places the hand not supporting Sasuke on Itachi’s back and begins to lead him while walking, “and tell me all about your first day?”

Itachi shakes his head, “Papa said he expects to hear all about it over dinner.”

Of course he did.

That night Mikoto makes Yakitori for dinner; Fugaku enters the house just she’s as she’s finishing up.

Itachi sits across from his father at the table while Mikoto sits next to her husband, tending to Sasuke in his high chair on the other side of her. He’s already made a mess with his dinner, a mix of sauce and rice sticks to his face and his fingers, as well as decorates the tray.

“So, Itachi,” Mikoto brings her attention back to her eldest, “how was school?”

“Yes, Itachi,” Fugaku chimes in, “I’ve been waiting all day to hear about it.”

“I’ve been waiting all day, too,” Mikoto gives her husbands pointed look. “Seems like he was waiting on a certain someone to hear it over dinner - I wonder who that could be.”

Fugaku snorts, choosing to save himself by not answering that remark, and turns back to their son. “Well, Itachi?”

Itachi cheeks flush with the attention; they know better than to put the spotlight on him. “It was-” they find themselves simultaneously holding their breaths, “-very good.”

Then they both sigh with relief.

“That’s so wonderful,” Mikoto smiles proudly at him until Sasuke squeals, gaining her attention once more. “The nice boy from yesterday really helped you, didn’t he?”

“Shisui,” Itachi corrects her with a fierceness that almost sounds protective, “his name is Shisui and I…” he smiles - a real smile. “…I think we’re friends.”

That’s all his parents have ever wanted to hear.

Chapter Text

“You’re a little weird, you know that?” Shisui says a few days later, completely out of the blue as they lay on the scratchy carpet covering Miss Mei’s classroom floor during free time.

Itachi is laying across from him, a book in his hands - a different one from yesterday, or the day before that. The statement makes Itachi’s head jerk up, blinking confusedly at Shisui. “What?”

But Shisui seems unfazed, all his attention on his drawing, the black crayon in his grip moves in circles before his hand slides across the paper and moves up and down, instead. “I said you’re a little weird,” Itachi was hoping that he heard Shisui wrong, but hearing him say it again makes his chest hurt and for a second, he thinks he’ll need his inhaler, but when Shisui looks up at him with those big brown eyes sparkling and his smile so wide, Itachi realizes its not that kind of hurt. “I like it, though.” He says and offers Itachi his drawing.

Itachi is almost hesitant to look at it, but as his eyes flick from Shisui’s face to the paper in his hands, he’s quick to smile - its a crude crayon drawing of themselves with smiley faces, wearing the clothes they had been when they first met - Shisui was wearing a baggy, dark green t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans with a grass stain across the knees from a fall at recess; Itachi had chose to match Mikoto’s color scheme of the day with a dark red knit sweater and a pair of black pants.

Being dressed similar seemed to help his anxiety while in public.

Shisui sits up to sit cross-legged, watching Itachi carefully examine his drawing, “Do you like it?” He subconsciously holds his breath.

Blinking at him, Itachi’s shy smile widens. “I love it.”

“I made it just for you,” Shisui admits, smiling bashfully but Itachi’s whole face lights up and Shisui swears he can see stars in his eyes.

“Thank you, Shisui,” he moves to sit up, too, “I promise I’ll keep it forever.”

Itachi throws his arms around Shisui’s neck to hug him for just the briefest moment before withdrawing to regain his composure. Shisui is too stunned to move - the tips of his pointed ears all the way down to his freckled nose is pink and deep down in his chest, his heart feels funny; beating too hard and too fast, like when he gets scared.

But that’s silly, he’s happy.

So why does he feel like this?

♡

Three days.

Three days is all it takes for the two of them to become inseparable - where one goes, the other is not far behind and more often than not, they are attatched at the hip.

Mikoto and Fugaku are still in shock. Neither of them have ever seen (and, both would shamefully admit: expected) Itachi to be so out of his shell like when he’s with Shisui. His anxiety could get so bad at times - enough to become debilitating. That was what lead the Uchiha’s to their decision of homeschooling him halfway through kindergarten and a month into first grade. It was also why he started on that Tuesday and not Monday.

Something, and it pains Mikoto to admit that she doesn’t know what…nor does she think Itachi even does, had set him off and he’d been nearly inconsolable as a result. She assured him that he didn’t have to attend public school, that he could keep doing it at home, but Itachi wanted to try again and that meant everything to Mikoto.

Intellectually, Itachi could be bumped up a grade - his placement test upon re-entering public school astounded the principal and counselors alike. The Uchihas were proud of their boy, that he could already be in second grade at only six-years-old. But Mikoto knew that with his social skills (or an unfortunate lack thereof), he would benefit so much more from being around children his own age.

But perhaps nothing could fill her heart with as much joy as the second day when she picked Itachi up from school; he climbed in the car and first greeted a giggling Sasuke while clicking in his seatbelt. She looked over her shoulder, just in time to ask if he was ready to go at the same time he turned to her with a smile - something she doesn’t get to see very often directed at her (normally those are reserved for Sasuke and dango and new books) - spread wide across his face.

“Mama,” he thought back to the drawing, tucked safely away in his backpack, his little hands wringing at the hem of his sweater - a nervous habit, no doubt - and asked, “Can Shisui come over to play?”

And Shisui’s been over more times to play than he can count on both his and Itachi’s little hands put together since then.

Mikoto could not exactly relate to Kagami’s struggles as a single father and a widower on top of that. But she was more than empathetic for the man - with his wife passing when Shisui was only a few years old, not quite old enough to have lasting memories of her, he’d been raising him alone ever since. He could provide for his boy, he had an excellent job, it was just that some days (particularly Mondays and Fridays and sometimes Wednesdays - just as Shisui had said) he found himself rushing on his lunch break to be able to pick Shisui up from school and drop him off at the neighbor’s house to be babysat.

(The woman was well into her late nineties and absolutely adores Shisui, but as of late, the seven-year-old has been feeling like maybe he was there to watch her. He used to be picked up and watched by his older cousin, Obito, but he’s not allowed to anymore after Kagami found out he’d accidentally singed his son’s curls while trying to apparently show him a cool trick with a lighter. Needless to say, Obito isn't allowed to have those either.)

So naturally, Mikoto did the only thing she could thing of and offered to have Shisui come to their house whenever necessary. So, three days a week, he came home with Itachi.

Occasionally, they play with Sasuke if he’s woken up from his nap by the time they’re home. Shisui was only slightly disheartened by the dirty look Sasuke had given him the very first time he came over.

While they were playing with him in the living room, Sasuke had grabbed Itachi’s hands to use for support while he climbed to his stumbly baby feet, knees wobbling with uncertainty as he took a few assisted steps, not for the first time. Shisui offered his hands (Itachi had made him thoroughly wash them beforehand. Twice.) next, so that Sasuke could use them, too.

Sasuke did not appreciate the gesture.

“Nii!” He shouted with a frown, clinging tighter to Itachi as if Shisui might try to take him.

Shisui’s excited smile deflated, shoulders visably sagging as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t be upset,” Itachi had tried to reassure him, voice gentle and eyes soft as he looked from Sasuke to Shisui and then back to his brother again. “He’s like this to everyone, even our Mama and Papa.”

Sasuke then released his brother’s hand in favor of reaching for his favorite stuffed green dinosaur, instead. He fell on his diapered butt with a soft thump and dragged the toy closer, completely forgetting Shisui’s existence for the time being.

“Everyone except you?” He asked curiously. He could see how much the brothers adored each other.

“Yeah,” Itachi leaned forward to press a kiss to his brother’s hair and Sasuke beamed at the affection, even offering his dinosaur to be kissed as well. Itachi hesitated as if the request was incredulous before giving in, rewarded by another round of baby giggles. “Everyone except me.” 

More often than not, they play in Itachi’s room until they are called down to dinner. The word play is a bit of a stretch - Itachi doesn’t have quite as many toys as Sasuke, but he makes up for it with all of his books.

“Wow,” Shisui stared at in wide eyed disbelief the first time he followed Itachi upstairs and into his bedroom. He stood in front of two full bookshelves that lined the wall opposite of Itachi’s bed. “You really like to read, huh?”

It wasn’t a question that needed to be asked, or one that needed to be answered - not when Itachi could finish a book in a day and have a new one in his hands the next. Still, he nodded so excitedly, “I can…” he faintly flushed, “…can I show you my favorite?”

“I’d like that.” Shisui admits.

And the way Itachi’s eyes light up when he says that makes his heart feel funny all over again. Maybe, the thought is distantly in the back of his mind, he wonders if he should tell his daddy.

He forgot all about it just as quick when he noticed Itachi had unfolded a little plastic step-stool from between the just-barely-there gap between the two bookcases. He placed it in front of the first one, angling it just right that he could reach up and grab the very first book before climbing back down. Shisui would’ve offered to grab it for him - he’s pretty sure he could reach it if he stood on his tiptoes - but Itachi has a fiercely independent streak and Shisui knew that.

Itachi’s footsteps make no noise when he walks over to his bed and sat on the edge. He patted the spot next to him and waited for Shisui to join him. Apparently, Itachi decided that Shisui sat just a fraction too far away and scooted closer to him before opening the book to the beginning.

This became a sort of staple in their play dates; Itachi would let Shisui choose any book of his and they would curl up together while Itachi read it outloud and Shisui was more than content to just sit there and listen.

The beginning of December means that Mikoto is bundling the boys up in extra thick layers so that they can go play in the snow, making snow men and angels together before a snowball fight commences - Shisui tosses one at the back of Itachi’s head, so naturally, he pelts Shisui directly in the face with one of his own to make it even. It breaks on impact, sticking to his long lashes, a stunning contrast because they’re so dark. (And, Itachi thinks with maybe too much thought, very pretty.)

They retreat back into the warmth when Mikoto recalls them; when their noses and cheeks are pink and wind-whipped and their lips are chapped, fingers nearly numb through their gloves.

Shisui watches intently as Miktoto crouches down behind Itachi and presses her ear to his back. He inhales deeply when she instructs him to. It sounds whistle-y and he lets out a cough because of it. Mikoto frowns deeply.

There’s a lump forming in the back of Shisui’s throat.

“You’re wheezing,” She calmly says when Itachi turns to face her, “you need a puff from your inhaler.” Itachi nods and goes off to get the one that’s kept in the cabinet - just out of Sasuke’s reach, yet just perfect for his.

Shisui can’t stop the way his stomach feels like it’s sinking with the equivalent of a lead balloon. “Um,” he swallows hard, forcing the lump down, “is…is Itachi gonna be okay?”

Still crouched at the child’s level, Mikoto opens her arms to him and, desperate for the reassurance, he steps between them. She gives him a quick but tight squeeze and pulls back to cup his chunky baby faced cheeks. There’s fear in his big brown eyes and she offers him a smile filled with a mother’s love. “Yes, Itachi will be fine, Sweetheart,” one of her hands moves to tousle his curls, “he just needs his medicine, that’s all.”

Shisui remembers that day on the playground when Itachi showed him his medicine and explained it. That seemed to be enough to ease Shisui’s nerves and he watches in fascination as Itachi uses his inhaler, as Itachi’s mama called it.

And then the two of them are wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket on the couch, sipping hot chocolate and giggling about their day while they fireplace softly crackles in the background.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Itachi says quietly after they’ve settled some.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Shisui swipes the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping his milk mustache on the sleeve of his sweater. “Do you feel better now?”

“A lot, thank you.”

“You don’t gotta thank me,” but he’s smiling, his missing front tooth starting to peek out. All of a sudden he perks up, getting a genius idea. “You should come play at my house sometime, you can even spend the night…it would be lotsa fun, I promise! I have lots of games and toys and books - not as many as you, of course - oh, and my daddy makes really yummy food - he’s gonna teach me how to cook just like him when I grow up! Or, we could get pizza - my favorite is pepperoni and bacon, what yo-” the soft sound of sniffling makes Shisui’s head jerk up to look at him. “…Itachi? W-why are you crying? Did…did I say something that upset you?” 

Itachi’s eyes are brimming with tears that he’s desperately trying to blink away. Some are already rolling down his cheeks. He looks down at his hot chocolate to avoid looking at Shisui. “I’ve never played at anyone else’s house or spent the night—no one’s ever asked me to…I’ve never had friends.”

Shisui feels like someone hit him really hard in the chest, right where his heart is. He holds his own little hand out for Itachi to take, closing around it when he does, “But now you have me,” Shisui gives it a gentle squeeze. “and I promise to be your best friend forever and ever.”

“Are you sure?” Itachi looks to him with hopeful eyes and tear clumped lashes, “forever is a really long time.”

Squeezing his hand a little tighter, Shisui smiles earnestly, making Itachi smile, too. “I don’t think forever is long enough.”

Mikoto leans over the crib railing and smooths Sasuke’s baby soft hair out of his face. At this age, it sticks up awkwardly in the back but its nonetheless adorable. She kisses his chubby cheek and his mouth curves into a smile in his sleep before dropping again. Laughing silently as to not wake him right back up, she gives the mobile hanging overhead one final push and leaves the nursery, pulling the door shut behind her.

Itachi’s door is wide open and she finds her eldest son preparing for bed as well. He’s already brushed his teeth and combed his hair, wearing his fleece pajama bottoms and their matching top. That pair stays much warmer than all the rest.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” She asks from the doorway, leaning against its frame.

She asks the same question every night, and every night she’s given the same ‘no,’ in his little monotone voice. She respected his choice and would leave the door cracked after telling him goodnight. He was growing up and learning his independence and Mikoto is so proud, but she also sneaks back in long after he’s finally fallen asleep to kiss his forehead and adjust his blanket.

Tonight is different.

“Yes, please,” he says softly, waiting for her to close the distance between them.

Although a bit surprised, she doesn’t wait for him to change his mind. “Did you have fun today?” She asks as she peels the comforter back, motioning for him to crawl in under it.

He gets comfortable, allowing Mikoto to pull the blanket up to his chin. “I always have fun when Shisui is over.” His smile may be sleepy but she can see the happiness written all over his face.

Itachi’s admission is nothing Mikoto doesn’t already know. She loves that smile of his so much and would do anything and everything to keep it there, to protect it. But she would be lying if she said there wasn’t a small bit of selfishness in her kindness.

She strokes his cheek gently with the pad of her thumb, offering a soft smile of her own. “I’m glad, sweetheart.”

“He told me I can play at his house, too, and that I can spend the night.”

“A sleepover?” She blinks at him in surprise that clearly shows on her face, “Do you…” she’s hesitant to ask, not wanting to crush this new found confidence in her boy, “…do you think you’re ready to stay at someone else’s house, without Papa and I? It wouldn’t be scary?”

“Shisui makes things…” his voice trails off as he yawns heavily, “…not so scary, anymore.”

He almost can’t finish his sentence, his lids that were progressively getting heavier finally slip shut as the last word rolls off his tongue.

Mikoto listens to the soft little snores that escape him as the snow flurrying outside his bedroom window catches her eye. The weather had definitely gotten worse in the hours since Kagami had come to pick up Shisui; absently, she finds herself hoping they’d made it home safely before the brunt of it began. It’d certainly gotten colder since. She makes the mental note to check the thermostat after leaving Itachi’s room and looks back at him, now fast asleep.

And just as she does every night, Mikoto tugs his blanket down the barest amount so that he won’t smother himself and smooths his bangs out of the way to kiss his forehead. Warmth fills her heart when, just like Sasuke, his lips twitch into a content smile.

“Goodnight, Itachi.”

♡

Shisui is laying on his belly, face held in his palms with his legs swinging in the air behind him, watching reruns of old Saturday morning cartoons when he hears a car pulling into his driveway, tires crunching over freshly shoveled snow.

Shisui jumps to his feet, racing to the window and peeks passed the curtains just in time to see Itachi and his mama walking hand-in-hand, quickly approaching the front front door.

“Daddy!” Shisui shouts loud enough to reach Kagami in the kitchen; the man ducks his head into the archway that separates the two rooms with a raised brow, but before he can question Shisui for his shouting, there’s a small, almost timid knock on the front door. Shisui grins, excitement coursing through his veins, “Itachi’s here!”

Kagami laughs and throws the dish towel he’d been using for his hands over his shoulder. He’d been in the middle of making marinara sauce for the homemade pizzas Shisui begged him to make for dinner. “Well go on,” he walks into the living room, “open the door.”

Under normal circumstance, Shisui isn’t allowed to open the door, even if his grandma was on the other side (especially if its his great-grandma Maeko - she’s been dead longer than Shisui’s been alive) but Kagami figures Itachi can be the one exception.

There’s a spring in Shisui’s step as he walks to the front door, unlocking it and stealing one last glance back at Kagami who reassures him with a nod. He twists the knob and throws the door open.

“Hi, Itachi! Hi, Itachi’s mama!” He moves out of the way to let them inside and closes it after them.

Mikoto laughs, a sound filled with affection and ruffles his curls. “Shisui, I told you that you can call me Mikoto.”

“Sorry, Ita - Mikoto.” He giggles as he corrects himself before turning to Itachi, “Let’s go play in my room!”

Itachi looks up at Mikoto and she nods, cupping his chin. “Call us if you need us - even if its just to talk, okay? You have your inhaler, right?” Itachi nods, motioning to his backpack that has all of his overnight necessities. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

With all that said, Shisui grabs the other’s wrist in a loose grip and tugs him down the hall after him.

Mikoto and Kagami watch as they disappear around the corner, their giggles loud and their footsteps heavy as they run up the steps. Kagami mentally sighs and decides he won’t scold his son for it in front of Itachi; he doesn’t want to embarrass him, but he won’t let it go without a warning, either.

He turns to Mikoto, her amused expression matches his. “On behalf of Shisui, thank you again for letting Itachi spend the night.”

“Oh no, really, thank you for letting him stay. He’s so excited and this is…this is a huge step for him. Shisui really brings Itachi out of his shell and makes his personality bloom.”

Kagami beams with pride for his boy. “Shisui’s a good kid, just a bit rambunctious,” he laughs softly but fondly, offering Mikoto a kind smile that she can see his son in, “He got that from Mura, no doubt. Everyday, I swear I can see more and more of her shining in him.”

“She’d be proud of you - of both of you.” Mikoto says with a smile. No, she had never met his late wife before her passing but from one mother to another, she knew. “Of the amazing young man he’s growing up to be and how you’re raising him to ensure that.”

“I…” Kagami swallows thickly, feeling that familiar ache behind his eyes, “…truly hope so.”

“…and this is my room!” Shisui declares eagerly, throwing open his bedroom door. He’d just finished giving Itachi a tour of the upstairs.

Shisui’s bed was made nicely in the far corner of his room, the dark green comforter tucked in. With some help from his daddy, he worked really hard to clean his entire room just for this occasion. 

Shisui enters ahead of him but Itachi remains in the doorway, nervously fidgeting with his backpack straps. “It’s nice,” he smiles, “I like it.”

“Thanks!” Shisui grins, “you can put your bag wherever you want.” Itachi looks around for a moment before deciding to prop it against the tall dresser and joins Shisui in the middle of the room, “Do you want a drink or a snack? We have juice or - oh! I almost forgot! My daddy made dango because I told him its your favorite.”

Itachi blinks at him with surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah and its really good! We were taste testing one this morning. I’ll go get you one, you can stay here.” And then he’s sprinting out of his bedroom again before Itachi can protest.

Itachi sighs a little and sits on the edge of Shisui’s bed while he waits, swinging his feet back and forth. Itachi knows its very rude to go through other people’s things and he wouldn’t like it if someone else did it to his stuff, but a black picture frame sitting on Shisui’s nightstand catches Itachi’s eye and he grabs it.

Its a man and a woman holding a baby. Itachi recognizes the man as Shisui’s dad and the baby as Shisui, maybe just a little older than Sasuke, which would make the woman…

“Okay, I’m back! Daddy said we can each have one now and more after dinner - hey, whatcha looking at?” Shisui had approached so quietly, trying to be careful not to drop their plate of snacks or their juicesboxes, Itachi didn’t even hear him return.

“Is this your Mama?” He turns the frame around, not missing the way Shisui instantly looks sad.

Shisui sets the plate and drinks off to the side and sits down next to Itachi who offers him the frame. “Yeah, that’s her.”

Itachi had never quite understood why Mikoto had told him not to talk about Shisui’s mom unless Shisui brought her up first - and Shisui never brought her up.

“She’s very pretty,” Itachi smiles, “you look a lot like her.”

Shisui cheeks go warm and pink and he smiles. It was true though, that he did look a lot like his Mama - they both had thick black curls that couldn’t be tamed and nearly ate every hairbrush that even attempted to get near it. He also had her big eyes and lovely lashes, as well as her full lips; his strong jaw and broad nose were from his daddy.

“Yeah,” Shisui strokes the glass over her face with his fingertips, “she was very pretty.”

Was…?

“What, um,” Itachi’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, daring to ask, “what happened to her?”

“She got really sick when I was little,” he admits and places the frame back in it’s place, “and she, uh, she died.”

Itachi feels the guilt rising, making his stomach feel tight and his face hot. “I’m so sorry, Shisui, I didn’t meant to make you sad.”

“Hey,” Shisui bumps his shoulder into Itachi’s, offering him a reassuring smile when he looks up to meet his eyes. “I’m not upset or anything - you didn’t know. I don’t really remember a lot about her, just the stuff my daddy tells me, but he-” he gives Itachi a half shrug, “-gets really, really, really sad whenever we talk about her, so we don’t do it a lot anymore.”

Itachi looks down at their hands, so close but not quite touching. He hesitates for only a moment before moving his hand to cover Shisui’s. “If you ever want to talk about her, I’d like to listen.”

“Really?” Shisui perks up and Itachi nods. Shisui grabs the two sticks of dango, suddenly remembering them and offers one to Itachi who gladly takes it. “I’ll tell you my favorite story about them that my daddy’s probably told me at least a hundred times!”

And as they eat their dango, Shisui tells him how his parents met in the first grade, how it was love at first sight. Unexpectedly, Shisui feels Itachi rest his head against his shoulder as he listens intently. Shisui almost stutters and it reminds him of the very first time Itachi ever hugged him. His ears still turn pink when he thinks about it, and so does his nose, but he wouldn’t mind if they stayed that way a just a little bit longer.

♡

Itachi leaves the next afternoon; after they’ve filled their bellies with leftover pizza and dango (Kagami was kind enough to make extra so that Itachi could take some home with him), his Mama comes to take him back home.

Shisui knew that Itachi would have to leave eventually, but that didn’t make him any less sad watching him go. Itachi offered him one last wave through the window before disappearing into the backseat of Mikoto’s car. Shisui’s hand remains glued to the cold glass, fingers smudging longways when he finally drags himself from behind the curtains.

Kagami notices the change in his son’s normally boisterous personality instantly. “Hey,” he kneels in front of him to be at his level, “what’s the matter, kiddo?”

“He’s gone.” Shisui admits, looking at his father with those big, sad brown eyes of his. “and I…I miss him, already.”

“Its okay, Shisui,” Kagami does his best to soothe his boy, taking him in his arms and running a gentle hand through the back of his curls when he tucks his little face in the crook of his father’s neck. “You’ll get to see him tomorrow. That’s not too far away, now is it?”

“No, but…” his voice is too muffled for Kagami to understand him at all.

The hand in Shisui’s hair pauses, “But what?”

Shisui pulls back just enough that his father can see the little quiver in his bottom lip when he says, “But one day I hope he doesn’t have to go.”

Chapter Text

Please, Don’t Feed The Ducks

The words are written in big bold letters at the top of the metal sign that’s attached to a wooden post, green with who knows what and stamped deep down into the earth along river bank.

“It looks gross.” Shisui says to Itachi as he crouches down in front of the post. “What do you think it is?”

Itachi crouches down too, leaning in just a bit closer, his face scrunches up as he examines said green stuff. “It’s just an airborne algae.”

“Oh yeah?” Shisui raises a brow and crinkles his nose, making sure to keep his distance. “It’s still gross.”

“That’s coming from you,” Itachi mumbles under his breath, rolling his eyes. “A lot of the stuff you do is gross, too.”

“Oh, whatever,” Shisui rolls his eyes back at him but he’s smiling, trying to hide it by tugging his own shirt up and off over his head; his curls bounce wildly back into place - which is everywhere. “We came here to swim, didn’t we? So then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

“That would be your dad.” Itachi says dryly, standing up to turn at the waist in search of Kagami. “You know my parents don’t let me swim unattended.”

“I know your parents don’t let you do anything, ever,” Shisui mumbles under his breath but he’s pretty sure Itachi heard it anyway, based on the frown he makes at Shisui, “Its not like we’re actually ‘unattended’, y’know. I’ve got you and you’ve got me - we’ve got everything we need.”

Itachi pretends like Shisui saying stuff like that doesn’t make his heart beat harder and faster, or like thousands of butterflies are all fluttering their wings inside his belly. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it and if there’s one thing Itachi isn’t, it’s a liar.

“Do you know CPR?” He breaks himself out of his stupor, asking Shisui a question he already knows the answer to.

“Um…” Shisui hesitates, scratching the back of his hair, “…no?”

Itachi crosses his arms over his chest, the corners of his lips curling down. “Then we’re not getting in the water.”

“Oh and what, you do?” Shisui frowns.

Itachi deadpans him. “I’ve been certified since I was nine, Shisui.”

And to that, Shisui promptly rolls his eyes once more.

In a last ditch attempt, Shisui puffs out in lower lip in a pout; normally it would be enough to butter Itachi up, but when it’s clear that even this tactic isn’t going to work this time - for the first time ever - Shisui’s shoulders sag in defeat as he gives up. 

“Fine,” he grumbles as he turns around, cupping his hands around his eyes so that the sun wouldn’t be so bright. When he looks in the direction they came from - well Shisui took off running and Itachi chased after him in fear that he wouldn’t have the self control to keep from jumping into the river - he can finally see Kagami coming into view, lugging a heavy blue and white cooler filled with drinks and snacks and carrying their picnic blanket thrown over his shoulder.

“There he is!” Shisui waves his arms over his head, successfully gaining his father’s attention.

Kagami waves back, quickly making his way over to the boys. With a huffed breath, he sets the cooler down and takes a look around, “Well, it looks like we’ll have the river all to ourselves today.”

Shisui didn’t even notice the lack of people at first, but his dad was right. Though, if Shisui squinted hard enough, he thinks he can see some people (or maybe they were people shaped trees?) across the other side of the river but that was it.

“That’s great dad,” he can’t help it when just be the tiniest bit of impatience seeps out, “but can we get in now? Itachi wouldn't let us go in until you got here.”

“Oh no, safety,” Itachi says dryly from behind him, crossing his arms and kicking at the sand.

Shisui frowns when Kagami laughs.

“Alright, alright,” Kagami holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m here now you two can go in, but-” he pulls a bottle of sunscreen from his pocket and gives it a quick shake, “-you have to put this on first.”

Shisui holds in his annoyed groan but holds out his hands, waiting for Kagami to squeeze more than enough into his palms. He lathers himself quickly before turning to Itachi who’s busy doing the same, “Will you get my back and I’ll get yours?”

I’ve got you and you’ve got me.

Itachi nods and Shisui stands with his back to him, letting Itachi smear the lotion down his back; Itachi’s hands stop just above the waistband of his trunks before gliding upwards again. Up on his left shoulder, Shisui has a birthmark that looks like an uneven heart, one side a little bigger than the other. Itachi pretends like it isn’t there to keep from getting distracted. He makes sure to take his time, ensuring that all of the lotion is rubbed in. After stealing one last look at Shisui’s birthmark, Itachi says, “Okay, you’re done.”

“Thanks!” Shisui spins on his heels, accidentally kicking up a small amount of sand in Itachi’s direction. His grin is as crooked as it is sweet when he says, “Your turn!”

Itachi turns to face the river behind them, watching the breeze create little ripples on the water - another distraction from the way it feels when Shisui runs his hands across his shoulders and down. Shisui’s fingers dance along Itachi’s spine; “Hm?” Itachi cocks his head to the side when he hears Shisui mumble something under his breath.

If Itachi could see the entirety of Shisui’s face, he would be able to see just how cherry red his face has flushed. Even if it was under his breath, Shisui hadn’t meant to let it leave his head.

“I, uh, said you’re still really pale.”

Itachi shrugs at Shisui’s bluntness, “You know how easy I burn,” Shisui had said it as a lie but it really wasn’t; it was no secret that Itachi got the fairness of his skin from his mother, as well as her notorious inability to tan - there’s been more than one occasion of her burning as red as a lobster.

Before it became too cold to swim in the river last year, Kagami would bring the boys every chance he could because they would beg him endlessly if he didn’t. And it was never without fail that Shisui would be sun kissed by the time they left and Itachi’s face and shoulders would be dusted with an angry pink that Shisui would no doubt tease him sweetly for.

And now that he’s thinking about it, Itachi is pretty sure their entire friendship was built upon Shisui sweetly teasing him. ‘You’re a little weird, you know that?’ still rings in his ears after two years but so does, ‘I like it, though,’ Shisui’s drawing still hangs on his wall - right next to his bed.

“Okay,” Shisui removes his hands, “I made sure to put a lot on this time so that you won’t burn!”

Even without being told, Itachi can feel the excess sunblock on his back making him feel just the slightest bit sticky where it hasn’t been rubbed in all the way. Shisui isn’t as thorough as Itachi is, but Itachi will never complain. “Thank you,” he says with an earnest smile.

Shisui smiles back at him before returning his attention to his father and Itachi swears he can see the tips of his best friend’s ears turning pink, “Now can we go in, dad?”

Kagami pauses straightening out the picnic blanket under a large tree that offers the perfect amount of shade. “Make sure you both stay where I can see you!” The last word has barely left his mouth before Shisui is taking Itachi by the hand and they are jumping into the water, sending it splashing around them, narrowly missing Kagami and the blanket; the surprised shout he lets out goes unheard as they come up giggling.

“At least-” Shisui shakes out his hair like a wet dog, throwing stray droplets everywhere; pushing it back does little to no good, his curls springing back up. “-the water isn’t too cold.”

There’s a little tremble to Itachi’s lips that would say otherwise, but he earnestly nods, anyways, and smoothes the shorter pieces of hair that have escaped the thick knot on top of his head in favor of clinging to his wet skin, instead. Itachi had only started growing it out after Shisui had not-so-subtly insisted he should. Now that it reached well passed his shoulders, Itachi usually tied it back into a low ponytail to keep it out of his face; Shisui loves when he does this as he loves playing with Itachi’s hair, twisting and twirling it around his fingers when he thinks Itachi isn’t paying attention.

(He is, and he loves it just as much, too.)

They swim and splash and play in the water for what feels like hours - trying to see who can hold their breath or float on their back the longest. Eventually, Kagami calls them to take a break from being out in the sun. As always, Itachi climbs out flushed pink and as always, Shisui pokes fun - that is, until Itachi points that he’s pink, too.

Then Shisui goes even pinker, and it’s not from the sun.

They wrap themselves in fluffy towels to sit on the blanket, munching on homemade snacks and sip juice boxes, laughing over their pruney fingers and toes.

Its only after Kagami announces they’ll be leaving in the next couple hours that Shisui stands up and lets his towel fall away, motioning for Itachi to do the same. “Dad, we’re gonna go for a walk.”

“Don’t go too far,” Kagami warns with a stern nod, “or into the woods.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Shisui mock salutes him.

The Naka river edges on a thick forest and they walk the path leading to it, side-by-side with their pinkies linked between them.

Itachi swings their hands back and forth, keeping his eyes on the rough dirt path, a mix of gravel and broken sticks crunching beneath their feet. “Is there something on your mind?”

“Not really,” Shisui gives a half shrug and a small shake of his head, damp curls bouncing, “why?”

“You’re being quiet and that’s not very like you.” A crease forms between his brows, making him look like his father. “It makes me think that something is wrong or that you’re not happy.”

“I’m always happy when I’m with you, Itachi,” Shisui says earnestly, squeezing his pinky finger just a bit tighter.

“And I’m always happy when I’m with you, too,” Itachi makes them stop in the middle of the pathway so they can look at each other; more importantly, that Shisui can see he’s serious. “You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

“You know I would,” he nods, “but I promise, Itachi, nothing is wrong,” he insists with a crooked smile, “There is something I want to give you, though! Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” Itachi offers no protest and what Shisui tells him. He can hear Shisui rustling with his pocket and then something heavy, rough and a little wet is being placed in his hands. Shisui laughs a little when he grimaces. “Okay! You can look now!”

Itachi hesitates, almost too nervous to see what it is based on how it feels; he blinks at the object in his hands before blinking up at Shisui. “It’s…a rock,”

“Uh, yeah, it is,” he blushes, scratching at the back of his curls like he does when Itachi knows he’s feeling awkward, “but uh, there’s a crack on this side and it’s kind of hard to see but if you look really close at it, the inside kind of looks like the pretty rocks on your shelf…” he chews on his bottom lip as his voice trails off.

“You mean my geodes?” Itachi quickly turns around to face the sun, holding it close to his face, he closes one eye and squints the other; Shisui’s right, though, it is hard to see, but if he angles it just right, he can get the sunlight to reflect and it starts to glitter.

“I found it when we were walking in the shallow part of the river and I thought you’d like it.”

“I do, it’s very pretty,” without warning, he tosses his arms around Shisui’s neck and stands on his tip toes to hug him tight, “I love it, Shisui, thank you!”

Shisui wraps his arms around Itachi’s waist, hugging him back, burying his face in Itachi’s damp hair that’s been freed from its bun. “You’re welcome,” and Shisui isn’t quite sure what possesses him to do what he does next - he pulls back just enough to see Itachi’s face and placed a little peck against his cheek. He pulls away completely when he realizes what he’s done.

Itachi brings his hand up to his face, fingertips gently brushing over his cheek. It was strange, how fast it had happened, yet he could still feel the tingling on his skin where Shisui’s lips touched; lingering like a ghost. “Shisui-”

He reaches for Shisui’s hand; Shisui recoils.

“I-I’m sorry,” Shisui stammers, his own eyes growing wide, “I-Itachi, I’m so sorry - I don’t know why - I shouldn’t have done that.”

His own face is burning up, stomach twisting uncomfortably with overwhelming embarrassment and anxiety. He feels so stupid - why would he think that was okay?

“…Shisui, it’s okay.” Itachi reaches for his best friend again to pull him closer. And this time, Shisui let’s him. “My mom and her best friend, Kushina, kiss each other on the cheek all the time, and they even hold hands like we do.” He tries his best to reassure him, but he can still feel that look of impending doom growing in his eyes, so Itachi does the only thing he can think of - stands once more on his tippy toes and kisses Shisui’s flushed cheek, stained cherry red. “See?” He ignores the way it makes his heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of his rib cage, “it’s okay.”

♡

After leaving the river, he’d returned to Shisui’s house where they continued to play a little longer; Kagami even broke open his geode the rest of the way, revealing a crystal lining the inside that glittered faintly pink.

Shisui was surprised when Itachi chose to give him the other half; it only felt right.

Sasuke was upset with Itachi when he’d finally returned home later that night. He has big feelings and being only two (three in a month), Sasuke is still very much learning how to control them. So to make up for unintentionally making his Otouto cry because he’d spent the day with Shisui, Itachi allowed Sasuke to all but drag him to his room where they played everything from dinosaurs to dolls until Mikoto collected them for dinner, to which, Sasuke begged him to play even more afterwards.

And how could Itachi ever find it in him to tell that sweet little face no?

It wasn’t long before Sasuke was starting to get cranky (he’d been protesting afternoon naps for a quite a while now), and Itachi knew it was only a matter of time before he curled up on a ball on the floor and fell asleep, much more exhausted than Itachi; Itachi’s conclusion was that being a toddler must be much tougher than he remembered.

(Which wasn’t all that much.)

Itachi cleaned up any messes they’d made while playing before scooping his Otouto up from the floor to gently shuffle Sasuke onto his own bed. He’d only recently upgraded from his crib to a toddler mattress. Comforting Sasuke when he began to stir at being moved around, Itachi stayed with him until he was sure that Sasuke wouldn’t wake up. He tucked him in for the night, kissed his forehead, and clicked off the overhead.

Then he returns to his own room, finally able to cozily curl into the warmth under his comforter and bury his nose in his book.

That is, until Mikoto softly raps her knuckles against his bedroom door, despite it already being open, and waits for his permission. She respects his ever growing independence and the need for privacy that no doubt follows it.

“You can come in.” He doesn’t look up from his book.

She’s just finished the laundry and enters with a white, plastic laundry basket perched on her hip, filled with Itachi’s clean clothes, already folded; she walks over to his dresser and begins putting them away.

A glitter on the next shelf over that holds his assortment of collections catches her eye. “I don’t remember seeing this one before,” She sets down the half empty basket in favor of picking up the geode in question. She brings it up to her face to examine it closer. “Is it new?”

That gets her son’s attention. He lowers the book in his hands to see what’s in hers. “Shisui gave it to me,” when he smiles, his entire face lights up, “he found it while we were at the river.”

Realizing the significance it holds to her son, she’s that much more careful about putting it back where she found it. It’s no wonder he would make it the centerpiece of his collection. She sits on the edge of his bed. “That was very sweet of him.”

“Shisui is very sweet.” He confirms with a nod, cheeks coloring pink. Mikoto watches him curiously; the intensity of her silently staring as she studies him becomes almost too much. Feeling vulnerable, he asks, “What?”

“Nothing,” she smiles softly and cups the side of his warm face, thumb lovingly brushing over his cheek. “I just love you so much and want you to know that no matter what, I always will.”

Leaning into her touch, Itachi hesitates for a moment, letting her words sink in. He doesn’t quite fully understand the meaning of her words just yet and Mikoto knows that, but one day he will and it’ll mean everything to him.

Itachi all but climbs in her lap to throw his arms around her neck and hug her tight - something he hasn’t done since he was barely a toddler. Face hidden in the crook of her neck, his little body trembles with a silent sob; tears fall against her skin, “I love you too, Mama.”

And maybe, Mikoto realizes as she smoothes back his hair and kisses his temple, it means everything to him right now, too.

Chapter Text

Of all the ways Shisui thought he’d die one day - like going peacefully in his sleep as an old fogie or something heroic like protecting someone else in the line of fire while being a cop - getting pelted in the face at fifteen with a fist sized soft ball wasn’t one of them.

Why the hell are they even called soft balls when they sure as shit aren’t.

Luckily, Shisui isn’t actually dead.

Yet.

(It just hurts a whole helluva lot like he is. He’ll never admit that, though.)

Shisui blinks up at the puffy, white clouds as they move ever so slowly across the otherwise blue sky. “Well?” He questions after a few monotonous minutes of sitting perfectly still - something he’s never been particularly fond of, eyes darting from the sky above to the distressed face in front of his own. “What’s the prognosis, Dr. Itachi, am I gonna make it or what?”

“I’m still so sorry about this,” Itachi says, working quick to change out the bloodied tissues currently in Shisui’s nose for fresh tissues, one and then the other.

Despite the fact that Shisui is the one currently experiencing a significant amount of blood loss he’s never seen Itachi look more pale in their entire eight years of friendship than he has in the last ten minutes.

His question also goes unanswered but he lets it slide.

Shisui waves him off and cracks a grin that’s hidden behind another bloodied tissue. “I’ve taken enough balls to the face to know I’ll be fine, Itachi.” Itachi doesn’t seem to find Shisui’s joke as funny as Shisui does and rolls his eyes. Shisui lets out a huff, “It was completely my fault.”

“I’m the one who hit the ball,” Itachi frowns as he looks at the softball laying on the ground just a few feet away from them; on the otherside of the yard is the baseball bat Itachi tossed aside in favor of running to Shisui. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t move out of the way.” Instead of ducking out of the way, he’d just stood there.

Shisui’s pretty sure that so long as he lives, he’ll never be able to bring himself to admit to anymore - especially Itachi - that he’d gotten distracted by the way Itachi’s ass looked in his baseball uniform that he wasn’t even currently wearing. Shisui was just thinking about it.

(But dear God, imagine if Itachi had decided to wear them while practicing with Shisui - Shisui’s pretty sure he’d be fucking dead, if nearly bleeding out didn’t kill him, a heart attack probably would do the trick.)

“I, uh,” he clears his throat and ignores the comment, “I think it stopped bleeding…”

“Let me check,” Itachi offers softly, brows pinching together in concentration as he peels the umpteenth bloody tissue away from Shisui’s nose, causing the older boy to grimace; Itachi drops them with the rest that are already littering in the grass around them. “I’m sorry if I’m hurting you.”

Shisui looks at him, big brown eyes soft and doe-like, “You’re not,” I don’t think you even can.

Itachi lets out a small sigh of relief.

His palms are soft as they cup either side of Shisui’s face, gently tilting it left and right, up and down, allowing him to inspect his nose closer; leaving Shisui to wonder…if he pressed his lips to Itachi’s, would Itachi let him? Would he…kiss Shisui back?

And then Shisui remembers he literally looks like a crime scene right now, considering both his face and clothes are covered in blood. The thought instantly dissipates for the best.

“Would you prefer if I gave you the good news first,” Itachi looks uneasy, “or the bad?”

“Um,” Shisui tries to keep the rest of his blood supply from rushing lower because itachi is still holding his face in his hands, “The good news, I guess?”

And Itachi, blissfully unaware to Shisui’s internal struggle, says, “It did stop bleeding and even with how swollen and bruised your nose is, it doesn’t appear to be crooked,” even if it was, Itachi would still think Shisui gorgeous. Nothing could ever change that.

Shisui gulps. Twice. “…And the bad?”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not broken.”

“Great.” Shisui groans and then holds in a whine that’s trying it’s damnedest to escape when Itachi pulls away, already turning towards his house, “Hey, wait - where are you going?”

“To go get my mom-”

Shisui doesn’t let him finish. “Don’t get your mom,” he hisses and reaches for Itachi’s wrist before he can walk too far away, “She’ll call my dad and then he’ll panic and then I’m gonna be stuck in the emergency room for hours.”

And while Itachi would normally agree that Kagami has the tendency to overreact when Shisui gets hurt, he would actually side with him on this one. “You need to go to the emergency room, Shisui, that ball hit you hard.”

“I know, your swing is excellent,” Shisui winks, beaming at him and though Itachi flusters at the praise - a feat only Shisui is able to pull off, he doesn’t take the bait.

“You could have a broken nose…or a concussion…or both.”

“Itachi, please,” Shisui all but begs, hands still shaking with the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he runs them frustratedly through his messy curls, making them even messier, no doubt. He also prays he hasn’t just streaked his hair with blood, “I’m fine.”

Itachi crosses his arms over his chest, his brows furrowing and he frowns, clearly unconvinced.

Shisui swallows down his realization that maybe Itachi being mad at him makes a pleasant tingle run down his spine - oh, no he’ll have to tuck that one away for another day when he’s not letting out an annoyed huff, his own eyes narrowing, corners of his mouth curling downwards, “Why do you have to make such a big deal out of this?”

“Because I’m worried-”

“Then stop worrying.” Shisui cuts him off.

Itachi scoffs. As if it would ever be that easy.

Shisui doesn’t miss the way Itachi’s jaw tightly clenches and he bites back, “Then go to the emergency room so that I can.”

The two of them are both incredibly stubborn, far too stubborn for their (and each other’s) own goods. They end up in a silent stare down with seemingly no winner, but Itachi knows that for all of Shisui’s stubbornness, he still has him wrapped around every single one of his elegantly, slender fingers (and oh, how Shisui would love for those fingers to be wrapped around him for real) and if Itachi has to resort to drastic measures to get his way every now and then…well, so be it.

Itachi’s long lashes flutter exactly once and Shisui knows he’s done for. He sighs heavily, shoulders dropping in defeat. “Don’t you dare give me the puppy eyes,” he says as Itachi does just that. Itachi doesn’t even have to say anything, he just lets his lashes do all the talking; they kiss his cheeks with each blink. “Fine,” Shisui begrudgingly groans with a (rather painful) roll of his eyes, “I’ll go - just…stop with the eyes, please.”

“Thank you,” Itachi drops the act, grinning innocently enough.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shisui waves him off, “go get your mom before I change my mind again.”

Its an empty threat and Itachi knows it; his grin softens into a smile and he pushes a stray curl away from Shisui’s eyes, “I’ll always worry about you because I care about you.”

Shisui catches Itachi’s hand before he lets his arm drop, rubbing his thumb soothingly over the bone in his wrist, “I know.”

Shisui might as well be beating down the butterflies trying to escape his stomach, the fluttering sensation is so heavy when Itachi links their pinkies in an effort to tug him along, “Let’s go get you cleaned up first,” his voice is gentle.

And as he lets Itachi lead him back to his house, Shisui tightens his grip around his pinky, smiling to himself when he feels Itachi’s tighten back.

♡

Days pass since what has been deemed the ‘baseball-and-nearly-broken-nose’ incident by Mikoto and Kagami.

Much to Shisui’s luck, his nose wasn’t broke - it would just be extremely sore for the foreseeable future - and he’d managed a mild concussion that got him out of school, even though it felt more like he was on some kind of house arrest. Considering Kagami barely let him out of his sight.

At least Kagami has the decency to give him some privacy when Itachi stops by to drop off his homework. Shisui assures him he didn’t have to; Itachi insists. They both know it’s just an excuse to come see Shisui. Not that he actually needs one.

He’s never able to stay long, just long enough to hand over the new assignments and ask how Shisui is feeling.

And Shisui’s answer is always the same as the day before and will still be the same the day after: lonely.

Shisui’s never felt lonelier than when Itachi leaves.

“I’ll come over on Friday and stay the whole weekend,” Itachi offers, combing his fingers through Shisui’s curls in an attempt to keep himself from looking at Shisui’s nose. The guilt of it all still makes his stomach churn. 

Shisui instantly perks up, eyes lighting up in a way that makes Itachi’s heart skip a beat. He holds out his little finger. “You promise?”

Curling his own around Shisui’s, Itachi grins. “Pinky.”

♡

Itachi comes over after school on Friday with his backpack on one shoulder and his overnight bag slung over the other.

The first thing Shisui notices is Itachi’s hair; normally pulled back into a low pony tail or a neat bun that sits against the base of his neck so be kept out of his face, he’d left it down today, letting it drape over either side of his shoulders. It’s so long now, reaching the middle of his back.

Shisui reaches out to twist the ends of his silk soft hair between his fingers, finding it still damp from the rain. “Is your dad still trying to get you to cut it?”

Itachi tucks a piece of his bangs behind his ear, “When is he not?”

Shisui tugs it playfully before letting it slip through his fingers. He offers Itachi a sad smile, knowing it was the furthest thing from an exaggeration.

As Itachi got older, Fugaku had began to put certain pressures on him in more ways than one. Itachi didn’t mind entertaining the more mundane of his Tou-San’s requests - like joining the school’s baseball team simply because extra curricular activities like sports, on top of all the other various clubs and programs he was already encouraged to sign up for, would look good on his future college applications.

Something like cutting his hair, however, was out of the question.

And though the start of puberty brought out Itachi’s more masculine attributes, Fugaku always thought his son’s long hair made him look too feminine - an unavoidable truth when the boy looks like his mother.

Deep down, Itachi knows what his Tou-San’s real fear is.

“One day he’ll stop being so annoying.” Shisui says with such a strong sense of confidence, that for a split second, Itachi believes it could be true. The doubt must show on his face because then Shisui is giving him one of his sweetly crooked smiles, “C’mon,” he gestures for Itachi to follow him, “let’s go dry your hair - you’re not catching pneumonia on my watch, mister.”

He’s already turned around to walk in front of Itachi, so he can’t see Itachi shake his head in disbelief or the way his lips curl up in an amused smile. “I don’t think it works that way, Shisui.”

Shisui stops unexpectedly, nearly causing Itachi to crash into him, and turns on his heels to look at his best friend with narrowed eyes. “You think I’d ever take the risk?”

The joking tone is gone from his voice, replaced with something serious. It makes a shiver run down Itachi’s spine.

Their eyes are locked, searching each other’s for…something; Itachi doesn’t know what. Or maybe he does, and he just doesn’t realize it yet.

“No,” it comes out louder than a whisper, but quieter than his normal talking.

“Good,” Shisui smiles; hands fidgeting down at his sides, clenching and unclenching into fists to keep from reaching out, “because never in a million years would I let anything happen to you.”

Itachi smiles, too, feeling his cheeks heat up the longer he looks at Shisui. “I know.”

When they finally make it to Shisui’s room, Itachi sets his bags down on Shisui’s empty gaming chair and begins rifling through his backpack while Shisui digs through his top dresser drawer - aka, where he stores all his hair care products he gets from Anko’s mom because she’s the only soul brave enough to try and tame it. Sometimes it works. Most times it doesn’t. She still hasn’t given up yet, though.

He grabs what he’d been looking for and walks back over to Itachi just in time to see him pull papers - his latest round of homework, no doubt - out of a folder.

Shisui offers him the (one of many) oversized shirt he uses as a towel for his hair and Itachi trades him his assignment for it.

He doesn’t even bat an eye when he unfolds it and sees it could probably fit both of them at the same time, and maybe even Sasuke. At least he’ll be able to fit all of his hair in it when he wraps it up.

“Y’know,” Sheepishly, Shisui begins to look over the papers in his hand as an excuse to not look at Itachi. “I wasn’t expecting you to want to spend the entire weekend with me.”

Itachi pauses running the shirt-turned-towel over his hair to look at Shisui who tries - and fails - at not looking at him. Bashfully, he meets Shisui’s eyes and says, “Maybe I’ve been lonely, too.”

Kagami makes Gyudon for dinner and afterwards, he loads the dishes into the dishwasher while Itachi attempts to help Shisui knock out some of his late assignments now that he was feeling well enough to return to school on Monday.

“Don’t stay up too late, boys,” Kagami ruffles his son’s curls and pats Itachi on the shoulder as he walks passed them to head upstairs for bed.

“Night dad,” and “Goodnight, Kagami,” echo in a unison that makes the man chuckle. The two of them are so different, yet so alike.

“Night, boys.”

They get about halfway through his history homework, which will be about the fourth assignment on their list to be ticked off, before Shisui calls it a night for them as well, considering Itachi can barely keep his eyes open.

He goes to bed every single night at nine-thirty on the dot and right now, it’s pushing eleven-thirty. Shisui all but carries him to his room. Itachi makes the time to change into his pajamas while Shisui strips down to his boxers and throws on a t-shirt he uses to sleep in. 

The second Itachi’s head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light.

Shisui wishes he could do the same. Instead, his overthinking keeps him awake.

Its done that a lot, lately.

It’s long passed midnight and outside, the rain beats heavy against the roof. A blindingly bright flash of lightning pierces the pitch black night sky, momentarily illuminating everything; a roll of thunder that sounds more like a car crash accompanies it only seconds later and it’s in that moment that Itachi blinks himself awake, finding himself more startled by the storm raging on outside rather than the other boy’s face just a few inches from his own.

Shisui’s dark eyes are already open, already looking at him. Looking, but not quite seeing.

Featherlight fingertips gently trace the deep purple bruise that dances along the slope of Shisui’s broad nose. It’s the first time Itachi has allowed himself to look at it since it happened last week; a hard feat when it’s the current focal point of his handsome face. Somehow the bruise looks worse in the lack of lighting.

“Does it still hurt?” A dumb question to ask, Itachi realizes, after he does. How could it not?

“Still tender,” is Shisui’s response and Itachi pulls back his hand to tuck it between them.

“Did the storm wake you up, too?” He’s pretty sure he already knows the answer, though.

“I can’t sleep,” Shisui shrugs the shoulder he isn’t laying on, “and the storm isn’t exactly helping.” Normally Shisui sleeps better than a baby could ever hope to when it’s storming, but this one just feels so…heavy for some reason and it makes him feel like he’s suffocating.

Maybe that’s just him projecting.

“We can talk about what’s bothering you?” Itachi suggests.

Shisui let’s out a sigh of defeat; physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion hitting him all at once. “Is it that obvious that something is?”

“You’re distracted,” Itachi says, sounding sad, “you’re trying to be here but your mind is somewhere else - maybe wandering the stars?”

He never could keep things hidden, not from Itachi. Shisui remains silent.

“Shisui, please,” Itachi urges, reaching out for his hand, “talk to me.”

It breaks his heart to hear him beg.

The comfortable weight of Itachi’s hand over his gives Shisui something to focus on - something good, something familiar, something safe - rather than the thrumming of his erratic heartbeat in his ears at the thought of divulging one (or possibly both) of his most precious secrets to his most precious person, “No judgement?"

Itachi looks as if he’s been physically struck. “Of course there’s no judgement.” The hurt in his voice and the pain in his eyes make Shisui immediately feel so guilty that he ever thought there would be. Itachi has never given him a reason to doubt that, to doubt him, so why would he start now? “You know you can tell me anything, Shisui, can trust me with any secret.”

There’s so many mixed emotions brewing between his head and his heart. On one end, he wants to throw all his caution to the wind and spill his soul and on the other end…there’s so much fear. They’ve carefully crafted this bubble of their own little world around themselves and this could…this could pop it and ruin everything between them and that scares Shisui more than anything.

Itachi’s pinky curls around Shisui’s the way he’s always done, the way he’ll always continue to do. It’s a small gesture that means so much to both of them. When Itachi squeezes, Shisui knows it means, I’m right here and I always will be.

Shisui closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “I’m bisexual.” He admits, voice so strong and so sure. He looks to Itachi as if trying to gauge his impending reaction.

And a few minutes, the only sound to be heard is the pittering of rainfall. Shisui finds the lump in his throat growing bigger and bigger for each silent second that passes by. 

Finally, Itachi says, “Thank you.”

Shisui swallows thickly. Twice. “For what?”

“For trusting me.” he says softly, and Shisui instantly melts. “This isn’t…I know that this isn’t such an easy conversation to have, and for you to tell me…that means so much to me. I hope you know that nothing changes. You’re still Shisui - you’re still my best friend and you always will be,”

There’s an ache that travels from Shisui’s chest all the way up to the backs of his eyes, making them sting with the brimming of tears. “You’ll always be my best friend, too.”

Itachi smiles, finding his own courage, “I…think I am, too.”

Shisui is hopelessly hopeful that Itachi can’t see the small glimmer of hope that flits across his face, making his heart beat faster.  “Y-yeah?”

“I’m-” Itachi’s eyes flit from Shisui’s eyes to his lips and back up, “-still unsure, though,”

We could figure it out together, Shisui thinks to himself and the words almost slip before he realizes that the two of them have been subconsciously getting closer; it would be so easy for Shisui to close what little distance remains between them…but he can’t bring himself to do it - too scared of rejection, too nervous for reciprocation.

So he pulls back, choosing to stare at the ceiling above them before he can see the look of either relief or regret as it takes place on Itachi’s pretty face.

Relief bleeds through Itachi when their still-linked pinkies tighten and Shisui says, “You’ll figure it out.”

And until then, I think I’m in love with you, will just have to wait.

Chapter Text

Kagami’s eyes sweep from one end of the DMV’s waiting room to the other, not at all surprised when he finds it incredibly packed - everyone crammed together like sardines in a can - and yet incredibly hopeful when he doesn’t see that beloved mop of messy black curls amongst the crowd of irritated faces.

No sooner does he take a seat in one of the unnecessarily cold, uncomfortable plastic chairs does his newly turned (as of ten-twenty-six this morning) seventeen-year-old son comes to stand over him, blocking out the fluorescent overhead lighting. An uncharacteristically disappointed look stains his usually over eager face.

Oh no, Kagami’s stomach drops with the weight of a lead balloon. “How did it go?” He dares to ask and braces himself for the answer.

Shuffling his weight from one foot to the other, Shisui sighs heavily before his distressed expression changes into a shit-eating grin so fast, his father nearly gets whiplash.

“I passed!” He declares excitedly at a volume that could potentially get them kicked out while he waves around his first ever, freshly printed temporary driver’s license.

Oh, thank God, relief washes over Kagami like an ocean wave; giving Shisui his birthday gift would’ve been just a little awkward and not to mention, heartbreaking, if he’d failed.

“That’s amazing, Shisui.” Kagami ignores the glares from the people around them, “I’m so proud of you.”

And Shisui positively beams at the praise, “Thanks dad, now can we, uh, get outta here? I wanna tell Itachi…” his cheeks flush darker as his smile widens.

Kagami takes one last good, hard look at his son and wonders if he’s ever going to admit that he has feelings for his best friend. Shisui has never directly or indirectly came out to his father, but Kagami knew exactly what that look in his boy’s eyes when he seen Itachi means, like he hung the moon and all her stars in the night sky.

After all, it was the same way Kagami looked at Mura.

“Yeah, we can go now,” he smiles and braces himself for the ache in his tailbone as he climbs to his feet.

Shisui cups his hands and wiggles his fingers, “Does this mean I can drive to Itachi’s?”

Any other time, Kagami is more than happy to toss his keys into those little raccoon hands of his son’s but today is different and he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise he’s spent so long ensuring would be perfect. More than anything, though, he wants to see the shock and awe as it hits Shisui’s face.

“Not just yet, kiddo,” he says, leaving no room for arguments or negotiations of any kind, “your birthday gift is waiting for you at home.”

“What is it?” Shisui perks right up as he trails behind his father who’s heading for the exit, just barely holding in an annoyed groan when Kagami says,

“You’ll see,” with a laugh.

“Alright,” Kagami says as he pulls up to the stop sign just before their street, “close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so.”

Shisui shoots him a bewildered look, “Seriously?”

“Never been more serious in all my life, kiddo.”

“Jeez, and you call me the dramatic one?” He mutters with a huff but willlingly closes his eyes.

He can feel the car start moving again, taking the familiar right turn, starting the trek down their street. He can tell exactly which neighbor’s house they’re near by each and every bump and pothole in the road, which also meant they were about two seconds from their own - confirmed when the car comes to a smooth stop, followed by the gear shift changing and the engine being killed.

“Now can I open them?”

“Did I say you could?” Kagami’s door swings open.

“Uh…no,”

“Then there’s your answer.” And promptly shuts it, leaving Shisui all by himself for the approximate half-second it takes Kagami to walk around the front of his truck and tug open Shisui’s door. “Okay, you can get out, just keep your eyes closed and I’ll lead you.” Shisui unbuckles himself and climbs out of the truck. Kagami’s hands find his shoulders and start pushing him forward. They don’t go very far before Kagami abruptly stops him and lets go. “Alright, now hold out your hand,” Shisui does as he’s told and then Kagami sets a small object of little weight in the middle of his (now admittedly, very sweaty) palm and says, “now you can open them.”

An anxious type of excitement sucker punches Shisui in the gut the second his eyes open and he realizes that there’s a black Jeep Compass now parked in front of him that most definitely was not there earlier; his eyes drop down to the object in his hand - a keyless fob for said jeep.

“D-Dad?” And Kagami’s pretty sure he’s watching Shisui’s brain short circuit in real time. His eyes dart up, searching Kagami’s face. His mouth opens, closes, and opens again before audibly snapping shut a second time, clearly at a loss for words. “…Really?” He finally manages.

Kagami grins, “You’ve more than proved to me that you’re responsible enough and you worked so hard towards getting your license, so yes, really - its all yours.”

The last word has barely left Kagami’s mouth when Shisui throws his arms around him and hugs him tight enough that it causes him to stumble backwards, “Thank you so much,”

The words come out muffled into the fabric of his jacket but Kagami makes them out perfectly. He ruffles his son’s curls and squeezes him back just a bit tighter, “Happy birthday, Shisui.”

Itachi’s standing over the kitchen island, brows pinched in concentrations, fingers beginning to tremble from squeezing the small tube of glittery green gel icing; he hadn’t realized these things practically required Herculean level strength to do so.

With the final letter now finished, Itachi sets down the mangled tube and releases the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding in for so long. He takes a step back to admire his work and that’s when he hears it.

“I’ll get it,” Itachi shouts to no one in particular - unsure if his anybody in his family is even within earshot - at the sound of persistent knocking on the front door. To his knowledge, they hadn’t been expecting anyone; force of habit makes him look through the peephole before throwing it open. “Shisui? What are you doing here?! I was going to-” he cuts himself off, quickly becoming flustered.

Shisui looks no different - curls still unruly, smile still crooked, nor was he dressed any different, his dad’s old flannel jacketover a hoodie with a pair of ripped jeans and his favorite pair of hi-tops was probably his most predictable outfit. It was…the way he was presenting himself; standing taller and broader, his confidence radiating off of him.

And if he notices the color overtaking Itachi’s cheeks, he doesn’t comment on it. “You wanna go for a drive?” His eyes glimmer with mischief.

Itachi blinks at him curiously, “A drive?” But before Shisui can say anything, he watches as the confusion on Itachi’s face turns into excitement when the realization hits him - “You passed your driver’s test!” He stands on his tiptoes and tosses his arms around Shisui’s broad shoulders. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispers in a low, huskey voice next to Shisui’s ear.

Itachi’s words make him shiver, make him wrap his arms around Itachi, feeling his slender frame underneath his loose shirt. Fortunate for Shisui, his cock decides to be on his best behavior.

Shisui was hoping (praying and/or begging also fit) that he and Itachi were on the same page regarding…each other. Shisui had known from the moment that Itachi approached him for the very first time in Miss Mei’s classroom nine years ago, with cheeks as red as his knit sweater, and said ‘hello,’ that Itachi would forever be the love of his life. His schoolboy crush started then and there and continued developing, each day getting deeper and deeper until Shisui didn’t think it was possible.

Sometimes, like now, it feels like Itachi is flirting with him, and sometimes…he can’t tell.

And Itachi…he’s never came out to him.

Shisui doesn’t want to pull away but forces himself to before he can’t hold back and buries his face in Itachi’s hair. (It was down and freshly washed, soft and silk and smelling so sweet. Shisui’s never been so impressed with his impulse control.)

“So,” Shisui clears his throat, hoping to hide the arousal in his voice, “how about that drive?”

Itachi studies him for a moment, big grey eyes in search of something Shisui doesn’t know. “Give me a few minutes,” he says at last with a small smile, “I’m gonna go tell my mom I’m leaving and I’ll meet you in the truck.”

“Jeep.” Shisui corrects him, grinning at the surprised look on Itachi’s face and jabs his thumb over his shoulder, “Dad surprised me for my birthday.”

And for the first time since opening the front door, Itachi looks passed Shisui’s shoulder, just now realizing the vehicle parked behind his mother’s Prius is definitely not Kagami’s Silverado like he’d been expecting. “I see that,” he muses and turns his attention back to Shisui, “I’ll be quick.” He promises before disappearing back into the house.

Shisui sits in his jeep, playing music and scrolling through his phone while he waits for Itachi. A few more minutes pass by before the sound of Itachi’s front door closing has him looking up to see Itachi approaching.

He’s thrown on a dark blue sweater that stops just about mid-thigh, practically swallowing him whole. He’s also pulled his hair up into a thick knot that sits messily on top of his head. Shisui’s disappointment quickly melts into curiousity as he realizes Itachi is carrying something down by his side. When he gets closer Shisui can see its a tote bag.

Never one to be subtle, Shisui asks, “Whatcha got there?” And points to the bag the second Itachi opens the passenger’s side door.

Momentarily ignoring him, Itachi climbs in his seat, clicks his seatbelt snuggly into place, and hugs the bag in his lap; smiling so sweetly, he looks to Shisui, “You’ll see.”

“That’s the exact same thing my dad said to me earlier,” Shisui can’t even hold in his groan, back of his head smacking the headrest, the thud cushioned by his curls. Itachi laughs at his dramatics. “You’re just as bad as him.”

Itachi just shakes his head, eyes rolling playfully. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’re right,” Shisui laughs as he straightens up; footing the break before shifting from park to reverse. He double checks his surroundings and just before backing up, says, “You’re worse.” With a wink.

With no real destination in mind, Shisui drives around aimlessly; eyes glued to the road, rambling nervous nonsense to Itachi like they haven’t spent the majority of their lives in such close proximity to one another.

Stopping at a red light, Shisui allows himself to steal exactly one glance at Itachi and makes sure its a quick one at that, lest Itachi catch him. Itachi still does - he may be looking out the window, but all his attention is on the mirror, focused on Shisui. Itachi keeps his pleased little smile to himself. Shisui drums his fingers against the steering wheel, somehow having found the self control to not reach out and rest his hand on Itachi’s thigh.

Doing so is a silly little fantasy that hit him like a freight train when he started driver’s ed - that he would do exactly that and Itachi would respond one of two ways: the first was that Itachi would say absolutely nothing, just smile at Shisui while laying his hand over Shisui’s and threading their fingers. The second one remains Shisui’s guilty secret because instead of sweetly holding hands and sitting together in blissful silence, after Itachi puts his hand over Shisui’s, he would guide Shisui’s larger, rougher palm higher and higher up his thigh until it reaches a bulge that he cups, kneading softly while the sweetest noises spill for Itachi’s parted lips-

Shisui shudders; now is absolutely not the time for that.

And the green Tahoe laying on his horn behind them would have to agree.

“Oops,” He flushes a dark pink and hears Itachi snort. He resumes driving and tries to sound casual, “So, uh, is there anywhere you wanna go?”

From the corner of his eye, Shisui can see Itachi turn to look at him, “Let’s go to the river.”

The corners of Shisui’s lips curl up into a smile.

When they arrive at the river, they are quick to discover that they have it all to themselves - not that either of them really thought anyone else would be there.

Its cold as hell and Shisui is freezing his balls off (he can practically feel them retracting back up in his body for fuck’s sake), meanwhile Itachi seemed to be completely unfazed by the air’s chill - his sweater much thicker than Shisui realized. Can cross cuddling to retain body heat off the ‘to-do’ list, he thinks sourly before deciding that it actually wouldn’t be such a bad idea to keep a blanket or two in the backseat for…emergencies, of course.

“C’mon, let’s go sit down by the water,” Itachi urges, already heading off in that direction.

“We don’t have anything to sit on,” Shisui reminds him, following behind him.

Itachi promptly turns on his heels, kicking up sand under his feet as he does, but he’s smiling. “Just trust me.”

And when has Shisui never not done that?

Without another word from Shisui, Itachi continues to lead him towards a sandy spot that’s a bit closer to the river, yet a safe distance from the water’s edge. Its also the only spot that has any consistent sunlight peeking through the greying (were they greying before?) clouds.

“Close your eyes,” Itachi says the second they stop walking.

And Shisui feels like he really should’ve seen that one coming. He closes his eyes and lets out a single sigh of defeat. Shisui won’t complain, though, not when it comes to Itachi.

Shisui can hear the bag ruffling as Itachi rummages through it, pulling things out of it. There’s the sound of plastic snapping and then maybe something being torn…like some sort of packaging being ripped open, followed by Itachi mumbling something to himself, voice low enough that Shisui can’t make out what he’s actually saying but he can imagine Itachi’s brows furrowing, nose scrunching in frustration and it makes Shisui swoon, nonetheless.

“Okay!” He says, excitedly, a moment later. “You can look now.”

Shisui finds himself hesitating; that unexplainable bout of nervousness from earlier has made a return, nestling itself in the pit of his belly and twisting it. He pushes passed the feeling and opens his eyes, only to be immediately taken back.

Itachi is kneeling on a sheet stretched over the sand and in the middle of it is a small chocolate frosted cake, topped with two lit candles, a green, sparkly one and a matching seven, that Itachi is trying desperately to shield against the little gusts of wind. Shisui sinks to his knees across from him; the cake reads ‘Happy Birthday Shisui!’’ in green glitter gel icing, written in Itachi’s perfect handwriting.

“Blow out the candles,” Itachi encourages, eyes as warm as the glow from the flame, “and make a wish.”

Eyes fluttering shut, Shisui needs no time to think of one. Its not like he hasn’t had the same one since he was eight-years-old or anything.

With his wish made, Shisui blows out his candles, eyes opening slowly to discover Itachi much closer than before this close, Shisui can how wide his pupils are and its…alluring. Itachi’s face is flushed and although it could very well be from the cold, Shisui hopes its for the same reason he can feel warmth in his own cheeks.

“Itachi-” his name is the ghost of a whisper on Shisui’s lips as he starts to lean in closer…Itachi leans in closer-

The first drop of rain is as cold as ice as it lands on Shisui’s cheek; a stark contrast to the arousal heating him. “Shit,” he hisses and hurries to pull back as more raindrops begin to fall, each one colder than the last. “Let’s head back to the jeep before it really picks up.”

“…Right…” Itachi tries not to let his disappointment show as they scramble to grab their things; Shisui grabs the cake and it’s container’s plastic lid while Itachi is doing his best to shake out the sheet and stuff it back inside the bag.

They only just barely make it before a downpour begins.

“We should wait until the storm clears up,” Shisui suggests, running a hand through his damp curls, “at least the worse of it…”

“I’m so sorry about the rain,” Itachi lets out a heavy groan, clearly upset, “it just ruined everything.”

“Hey now,” Shisui bumps his shoulder gently with his, causing Itachi to look at him with pinched-in brows and a frown that makes him look way too much like his dad, “it didn’t ruin everything - we’ve still got the cake.”

He’s trying to lighten the mood and Itachi offers him a small smile for it, but its the sad kind that tells Shisui that Itachi doesn’t give a damn about the cake…but Shisui already knows that.

Itachi finally built up the courage…only for Mother Nature to be a cockblock and ruin the moment.

“I suppose we do,” he says after a moment, smile becoming genuine.

Shisui grins, “I don’t suppose you happen to have a couple forks in that bag of yours, do you?”

“Actually…” Itachi says sheepishly and begins digging through his tote bag until he pulls out two plastic forks, “…I do.”

Laughing, Shisui takes the fork as Itachi offers it. “You really came prepared, huh?”

For everything except the rain, Itachi thinks a bit bitterly. “This was my…improvisation,” he admits, “originally, I planned to surprise you at your house…but then you showed up at mine.”

“So really, I ruined my own surprise.” Shisui teases.

“Maybe a little,” he teases right back, eyes sparkling; he leans over and places a small, chaste kiss to Shisui’s cheek that’s now burning hot. “Happy birthday, Shisui.”

They laugh and reminisce, watching the rain and eating cake; Itachi reveals he spent all morning finding the perfect recipe to make it from scratch and somehow knowing that makes it taste that much sweeter. Even when the storm has let up, they make no attempt to move; content to just be with one another.

It’s right then and there that Shisui realizes they’ve been on the same page all along.

Chapter Text

Neither of them dare to bring up their almost kiss at the Naka river; neither of them are quite sure how to approach the topic…or their feelings.

So they just…don’t, and instead come to a silent conclusion to simultaneously let it sink beneath the water’s surface, to let it rest at the bottom of the river’s bed, and go about pretending like it never even happened in the first place.

But it did happen. And when Shisui remembers that look in Itachi’s eyes - when Itachi remembers how Shisui’s breath fanned against his mouth-

Finding distractions (school, homework, and extra-curricular activities - Shisui is the captain of his swim team and it’s top swimmer, three years strong now, and Itachi gave up baseball (Shisui is still in mourning over the loss of those beautiful pants) after only one season to focus on his judo lesson, as well as juggling national honor society and debate club - on top of studying for and taking nearly half a dozen finals) make it that much easier to pretend, but it also makes it all too easy to unearth the hidden root of why they’re pretending in the first place:

Being open and honest and vulnerable feels scary. Hell, the vulnerability that comes with pouring your heart and soul out to the person you've been in the L-word with since before you even fully understood what it meant is terrifying.

Itachi wants Shisui to be the first one to initiate things; wants Shisui to cup his jaw and kiss him hard and slow, deep and full of passion - just like in all of the romance books he’s unashamedly read (and the half dozen or so that he’s attempted to write). His best friend is always so quick to jump head first into any situation, consequences be damned, yet when it comes to Itachi, he chooses to tread cautiously.

Shisui wants Itachi to be the first to admit his feelings; wants Itachi to say how much he wants Shisui - that he has only ever wanted Shisui. His best friend has always used his cautious nature to protect himself and just for even the splitest second, Shisui would like to see it thrown to the wind.

They both want the same thing, but nobody wants to make the first move so nobody gets what they want.

(They really always have been too stubborn for their own goods.)

Eventually, all of their distractions must come to an end when what feels like only the blink of an eye has passed - junior year is over.

It ends with the final bell ringing and then suddenly, the hallway is flooding with people hugging and crying, receiving and requesting last minute yearbook signatures (Itachi doesn’t like asking, nor does he like being asked, however it doesn’t stop Shisui from taking an entire page for himself and filling it with things that range from the sweetest of words to the silliest of scribbles; meanwhile Shisui always has an array of colorful sharpies for this exact purpose at any given moment, and to spite him, Itachi will only leave his perfect signature in black.) while making promises to see one another over summer vacation.

Their very last summer vacation before they become seniors in the fall.

♡

Said summer vacation starts out good enough - staying up late, only to sleep in extra late the next morning and just enjoying all the joys that no school brings. (All while trying and failing to ignore that there are no longer any conveniently placed distractions.)

The beginning of July brings a sudden spike in the afternoon heat that forces them to be housebound because stepping so much as even a toe outside of Itachi’s gloriously air conditioned house would result in an immediate death via melting.

(Okay, so maybe it isn’t that bad - Sasuke and Naruto were very much still alive, evidenced by their giggles and shrieks of laughter floating in through the closed windows as they ran through the sprinkers in the backyard - but it is hot. Too hot for Shisui, specifically.) 

Itachi has no qualms about being stuck inside; he’s been waiting until finals ended to read the six-hundred-something-page thriller that’s been sitting on his bookshelf, collecting dust (metaphorically, of course, because Itachi cleans everyday) for only God knows how long, and the weather has given him the perfect opportunity to do just that. (He’s only picked it up an hour and a half ago and is already halfway through it.)

Shisui, on the other hand, is handling the heatwave much less…gracefully. Before the heat became debilitating, he’d been sitting across from Itachi in his bed, rambling on and on about the details of Anko’s annual summer bonfire tomorrow. But the more his best friend hypes up this year’s, the less enthusiastic Itachi felt himself becoming. He and Anko didn’t click the way Shisui had hoped they would, but Itachi still puts in the (minimal) effort for Shisui’s sake.

Currently, though, he’s sprawled out like a starfish on the carpet (forever wishing it was hardwood flooring) so that he can be close to the wall vent; his shirt already long having been abandoned somewhere during his transition from bed to floor.

Not that Itachi is complaining or anything. Shisui’s body, much like his face, was absolutely gorgeous. Tan and handsomely toned from being a swimmer, Itachi finds himself subtly shifting his legs closed when his gazing leads him to the stream of dark hair that feathers his belly, just under his navel, and disappears beneath the waistband of his shorts.

Itachi wants to trace that trail with the tips of his fingers, wants to see where he knows it leads.

He often asks himself when the shift in the way he views Shisui happened. For so long now he’s felt a hunger for this boy that he can’t explain, other than he wants to swallow him whole.

And God, would he like to-

A sudden agonized groan from the floor startles Itachi out of his lusty daydreams.

Forgetting all about his book, Itachi pushes himself up to sit in a way that’s not obvious he has the beginning of an erection and finds Shisui pouting up at the ceiling. There’s a fifty-fifty chance he’ll regret asking, “What’s wrong?” but does so, anyways.

Shisui turns his attention to his best friend, looking absolutely pitiful. “The air conditioning kicked off,” he whines.

“Oh no,” Itachi muses, dryly, “how ever will you survive?”

“I dunno,” Shisui is already on his hands and knees, crawling towards the bed; already halfway on top of it when he suggests, “maybe a quick snuggle with my favorite lizard person will do the trick?”

Itachi flushes a deep shade of pink, half-hard dick twitching. “You are a walking heat lamp, Shisui, so that is absolutely not happening.”

He stills on the edge of the bed. “Don’t lizards need heat lamps?”

Itachi hears, Don’t you need me, like I need you?

“Some do,” Itachi corrects him, “but not all.”

“And you’re gonna try to tell me that you’d be one that doesn’t?” He scoffs in disbelief, “I’ll prove you wrong right now - give me your hand.”

Itachi licks his lips, watching the way Shisui’s eyes follow his tongue before flickering up to meet his. He offers his hand to Shisui. “Then prove me wrong.”

Breath catching in his throat, Shisui swallows hard. Twice.

Resting his hand over the back of Itachi’s, the contrast in the temperatures of their skin feels like electricity rushing through their veins; forcing what feels like every fine hair along the nape of Shisui’s neck and down Itachi’s arms to stand on end. Shisui threads his fingers through the empty spaces between Itachi’s. “What did I tell you,” there’s a touch of strain to his voice as he brings Itachi’s hand up to his chest, laying his palm flat over his heart to let him feel how wildly it beats for him beneath Shisui’s skin, “cold as ice.”

“Perhaps…” Itachi’s eyes are hungry - starving - pupils blown so wide, his irises nearly appear completely black. Shisui can’t bring himself to look away; imagining he looks much the same. “…you should warm me up, then.”

Shisui shudders and in the next moment, he’s crawling over Itachi to straddle his lap; their growing arousal becoming painfully obvious.

“This is what you want?” His voice is a whisper; hand coming up to brush Itachi’s bang behind his lovely little ear, his fingers so delicate in the way they caress his cheek, coming to rest on his jaw.

Itachi leans into his touch, “More than anything,” he insists, beautifully long fingers clinging to the curls at the nape of Shisui’s neck, “I want you.”

And suddenly, the whole universe feels like it’s exploding when their lips finally, finally meet after all this time for the first time; its so desperate and hungry - a carnal craving at long last being fulfilled. Mouths moving in a perfect sync with one another, like they’d actually done this a hundred times or more and not only a fantasy in their best dreams.

Bitten bottom lips and teeth clinking together somewhat painfully, its clear that Itachi is leading this kiss, the way his tongue traces the seams of Shisui’s mouth until he opens, allowing Itachi to explore; licking inside until their tongues roll against one another, playful at first with the way they taste and tease. Then it stops being playful. Tongues tangling in a brief fight of dominance that Itachi willingly gives into. Shisui sucks on his tongue like he wishes it was something else, pulling all these soft, needy moans from Itachi that starts a wildfire down in his core.

Smirking against Itachi’s mouth, Shisui is obviously pleased with himself; Itachi, with a pretty pink blush smeared across his cheeks, retaliates. Fingers still nestled home in Shisui’s hair, Itachi tugs hard on his curls. Sparks of white-hot pleasured pain go straight to his cock, laying achingly against his inner thigh, already so desperate for a relief. A ridiculously loud - loud enough that they could have easily been heard if Mikoto and Kushina hadn’t decided to coincidentally step outside at the first sound of a bedframe shifting - moan escapes him.

Shisui’s hips jerk on their own, grinding against Itachi’s. Itachi gasps at the pleasure the friction brings and the kiss breaks, stealing their breaths along with it.

Either boy is so dangerously close to cumming in their clothes any second now.

Barely any gentler than before, Itachi tugs Shisui closer and Shisui takes the hint; kissing Itachi’s forehead, tasting the salt of his sweat, and bumps him with his own forehead, their skin now equally fevered. Closing his eyes, Shisui takes in a deep breath, trying to catch it, but his mind is racing just as fast as his heart.

We kissed, is the only coherent thought running through his brain, holy shit, we kissed!

“Was that…” he pulls back ever so slightly, brushing his thumb over Itachi’s bottom lip, bright red and kiss swollen, “…okay?”

Itachi blinks at him with eyes gone wide, pupils blown even wider - practically in the shapes of hearts. He knows what Shisui is asking; one look into this big beautiful brown eyes and Itachi can see the same panic that filled them when they were just two those little boys standing at the edge of the forest, it was the same fear that he had just inexplicably ruined everything and Itachi, just like when he was that little boy, proves there was never anything to be afraid of at all.

He kisses Shisui again, no longer so desperate but by no means gentle, yet it yields the same result as it did back then. “This is okay,” there’s a rasp to his voice and the inevitable tingle in his lips that only gets stronger with each time they meet Shisui’s, “It’s always been okay.”

And Shisui is well high off oxytocin and probably a lack of proper blood supply to his brain, considering it all rushed to his dick. With Itachi’s face still held between his hands, Shisui kisses him until he’s practically melting into this beautiful boy beneath him.

When the sun inevitably goes down, it takes the horrible, sticky sweat inducing heat with it. It does not, however, take away the heat that’s burning deep in the pit of Itachi’s belly; no, that started long before the heatwave began and will last far longer than after it leaves.

Shisui is much like the sun in his own beautiful sort of way; radiating all things warm and lovely and Itachi would not mind to bask in his sunlight and feel his rays kissing his skin.

“Shisui,” his voice is barely louder than a whisper, his fingertips feather light as they trace down the slope of his strong nose.

“Hm?” His response is barely audible as he’s barely awake.

Itachi snuggles in closer, until their lips are just barely brushing; he can feel Shisui’s breath fanning his mouth. “Can I keep you forever?”

“Are you sure?” Shisui’s peeks at him from under his thick lashes; there’s just enough moonlight pouring in from between the slit in the pulled curtains to bathe Itachi’s face with its silvery glow. He looks gorgeous, ethereal, even. “Forever is a really long time.”

Itachi pushes their lips together and Shisui’s hands tighten around his waist, grasping his skin to pull him in as close as he can without their bodies melding together and becoming one. Their kiss only breaks when their chests heave, lungs desperate for air that will never feel as if it’s enough, not once they’ve had the taste of each other’s love. “I don’t think forever is long enough.”

Chapter Text

A blanket of comfortable silence covers them, tucks them in and holds them tight. The only sounds to fill the space of Itachi’s room is the wall vent working overtime (the house now feels the equivalent of standing outside on an early winter’s morning, all that was missing was freshly fallen snow) and the occasional car passing by. Even the footsteps in the hallway - quick were Sasuke’s, soft were Mikoto’s, and heavy were Fugaku’s - have long since ceased.

Itachi’s breathing is calm, his mind anything but. Finally moving for the first time in what feels like hours, he reaches for Shisui’s hand draped across his waist and entwines their little fingers, squeezing just once.

Shisui presses his lips softly to the back of Itachi’s hair. Without anything have been said, he already knows what Itachi is thinking, because he feels it, too - that this doesn’t feel real. For Shisui to be holding him like this; for Itachi to be kissing him like he has all night.

And Itachi fears it isn’t, that if he closes his eyes and opens them again that this will all just be a fever dream.

“Sleep,” Shisui encourages, nuzzling his nose into the soft spot behind Itachi’s ear, followed by his lips. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Itachi is hesitant. “Promise?”

Shisui’s own grip around Itachi’s little finger tightens. “Pinky.”

It isn’t until morning that Shisui discovers his love of being the little spoon.

At some point during the night, they rolled away from each other - understandable when Itachi, himself, called Shisui a walking heat lamp earlier, plus, the older boy loved to snuggle - only to come back together a bit differently. Shisui wakes with Itachi tangled  greedily around his body the same way a dragon hoards it’s treasure, protecting it from those who would try to steal it. Protective; possessive. Itachi’s face is wedged between his neck and shoulder, breath fanning his skin and leaving the space humid. His arms are curled around Shisui’s waist, hugging him tight to keep him close. There’s also the unmistakable feeling of something hard digging into Shisui’s backside.

Not that he’s complaining or anything.

It’s not too long after Shisui opens his eyes that Itachi begins to stir, nuzzling his face deeper into the crook of Shisui’s neck, soft palms roam along his body, one up to his chest where he grazes a nipple and the other across his abdomen, feeling the taut muscles beneath twitch under his touch. Itachi even shifts his hips, grinding against Shisui’s ass with deliberate intent. Shisui pushes his ass back, encouraging him to do it again.

A soft moan escapes Itachi when the friction feels so good. His hand on Shisui’s abdomen comes up to grip his hip, soft lips leaving persistent kisses, each more desperate than the last, starting at his nape and climbing higher and higher up the side of his neck until they reach his ear, murmuring something soft into it before licking the shell, nipping the lobe, waiting for a reply.

Arousal pools deep in Shisui’s belly, thick and hot and tight like a knot; his attention brought to his own ache between his legs, morning wood straining against his boxer-briefs. “Yes.” he answers with a rasp, voice still thick with sleep.

Before the word has even finished leaving his lips, Itachi is already tugging Shisui’s underwear down and out of the way; cock smacking against his lower belly, head flushed a ruddy pink, tip already glistening. Itachi just barely pulls away, just enough that he can pull his own night pants and boxers down.

There’s the click of a plastic cap opening, liquid being squeezed.

With his heart hammering in the cage of his ribs, blood rushes through his ears, sounding more like ocean waves crashing. He parts his thighs for Itachi, allowing him to slip his slick cock between them, nestled home beneath his sac; closing his legs tight, he squeezes Itachi between them. Itachi shudders, wet hand reaching for Shisui’s hip once more, fingers digging into his flesh hard enough to bruise in an attempt to ground himself.

And oh, does Shisui hope he’ll bruise.

Itachi hides his burning face in the overgrown curls that tumble over the back of Shisui’s neck, breathing in deep through his nose, taking in the smell of Shisui.

“You’re alright, baby,” Shisui rubs at Itachi’s arm that’s snaked under and around him, “you can move.”

Shisui’s words are as dizzying as the heat between his thighs is overwhelming. Rolling his hips earns him that delicious friction he’s so desperate for, and all of the noises that Shisui lets slip only make it that much sweeter.

Shisui can’t help but whimper and whine, especially when Itachi’s cock glides hotly back and forth across his entrance - a sensation so new and exciting it leaves him clenching and unclenching around nothing each time. That was an area yet to be explored during self pleasure and was swiftly making its way to the top of Shisui’s sexploration list.

Shisui reaches back to tangle his fingers in the silky hair at Itachi’s nape, tugging ever so slightly. It’s subtle, but tells Itachi exactly what his boy wants. Ignoring his straining muscles, Shisui cranes his neck so that Itachi can kiss him hard, hungry, like he wants nothing more than to devour Shisui whole.

Its such a stark contrast to his sweet, shy nature that it makes Shisui’s head spine but he knows one thing for sure - that this side of Itachi is reserved for Shisui and Shisui, alone.

Shisui squeezes his thighs tighter.

“Sh-Shisui,” he moans brokenly against his love’s lips, in the small space between their mouths where their heavy breaths intertwine into one. The cord in his belly is so close to snapping like the force of a rubber band pulled taut. “I-”

“I know you’re so close, baby,” Shisui admits, voice like honey; taking Itachi’s hand from his hip, he brings it to his lips and places a single kiss to the middle of his palm before bringing it down to his leaking cock. “Touch me.”

Shisui’s cock is heavy in his palm. Wrapping his elegant fingers around him, Itachi relishes the velvety smoothness of his lover’s shaft. There’s a prominent vein that runs along the underside; Itachi wishes he could trace it with his tongue, wishes he could map out the entirety of Shisui’s body and memorize it with just his fingers alone.

Thumbing circles over the slit, precum spreads all around the head, drawing moans from deep in his throat.

“Don’t tease me, Itachi.” Shisui chides, wrapping his hand around Itachi’s slender wrist, thumb tracing its bone. His stomach fucking lurches when Itachi squeezes near the base of his cock ever so slightly before following the full length and twisting his wrist; pleasuring him with short, broad strokes that match his thrusts. “Do you think of me?” it’s nowhere near Shisui’s normal method; Itachi’s pace much slower than Shisui has the patience for when he’s chasing his release - especially this close to it. “When you’re touching yourself, do you think of me?”

“I-” Itachi’s hips stutter, “-only ever think of you.”

The tension in Shisui’s belly tightens until it fucking bursts with Itachi’s admission; his whole body tensing, spilling hotly in Itachi’s hand as he works him through it. Remaining conscious of where they are, Shisui sinks his teeth into his bottom lip until he tastes blood to keep quiet.

Itachi has no choice but to follow Shisui over the edge; smothering his moan by biting into the meat of Shisui’s shoulder, causing him to unexpectedly cry out. A kaleidoscope of colors explode behind Itachi’s eyelids as he squeezes them shut and just…lets go, painting the inside of Shisui’s thighs hot and sticky.

Neither of them say anything for a moment, they’re breathing too hard for that. Instead, Shisui’s thumb continues to rub soothing circles into Itachi’s wrist, his hand yet to uncurl from around Shisui’s softening cock; Itachi presses soft, apologetic kisses to the reddened skin of Shisui’s shoulder. It stings, smooth flesh marred by his pretty teeth.

Itachi leaves one last lingering kiss, this time to the top of Shisui’s spine before beginning to untangle himself from around Shisui, and Shisui, for a reason he can’t place a name to, feels a surge of panic raising, wanting to take over and pull him under. “Itachi-”

Itachi won’t let him drown.

“Relax,” his voice is calm, hands gentle when he stops Shisui’s attempt at rolling over. “I’m only going to grab a wash cloth,” he explains, “unless, of course, you would prefer to remain filthy?”

The hint of amusement in Itachi’s tone makes Shisui’s face burn his signature cherry red brand of embarrassment. Unable to admit to Itachi at least, just yet, that he actually likes the feeling of being covered in Itachi’s cum, he huffs with a pout. “Hurry back.”

Holding in a snort, Itachi practically rolls off his bed in an attempt to pull up his pants and and climb out of it at the same time before Shisui can change his mind (because there isn’t a doubt in Itachi’s that Shisui was actually considering it). Itachi tries to ignore the shake in his knees as he makes for the door, adjusting his pajamas just in case. At least he won’t have to worry about seeing his father as the man already left for work, but he would hate to scar his mother and brother this way. Twisting the knob and tugging it open, Itachi sneaks one last look over his shoulder and smiles when he sees Shisui is already looking at him.

“I will.” He promises and ducks into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door shuts behind Itachi, Shisui’s head drops back on to the pillow beneath him, wild curls splaying over the pillowcase. Shisui has never been able to keep still for very long - Miss Mei (as well as every teacher before and after her) used to make him sit on his hands until they tingled and then he’d fidget around even more - yet here he was, executing the utmost display of self control by not moving a muscle (the trembling in his thighs don’t count). Itachi would be so proud of him.

He’s still covered in the evidence of Itachi’s wake up call - just thinking about that deep, sleepy voice asking ever so politely, ‘May I?’ while he was about to absolutely wreck Shisui brings a new rush of arousal to his sated body - and he doesn’t want to accidentally ruin Itachi’s sheets. So far, he thinks he’s doing great-

Ope. Nope. That’s definitely a spot…

He lets out a sigh of defeat and hopes (prays, really) that Itachi does his own laundry.

Shisui’s thick lashes are just about to flutter shut when he hears the sound of feet padding softly in the hallway, stopping just outside the door. Forever true to his word, Itachi returns just as fast as he’d left. He didn’t need to go far, the bathroom he shares with Sasuke is just one room away. He opens the door just enough to slip through it. Announcing, “I’m back, Shisui.” as he enters, twisting the lock behind him.

Much to his amusement, a head of disheveled black curls pop up. “I’m, uh,” he waves awkwardly, “still over here.”

“I would certainly hope so,” Itachi muses as he makes his way to Shisui’s side of his bed (the left side of Itachi’s bed has always been Shisui’s, even before they outgrew his previous mattress), “although it would not be the first time you’ve ran around my house half naked.”

“Hey!” Shisui flushes at the hazy memory of suddenly breaking out in a high fever and Mikoto stripping him down to his underwear, letting him snack on an unlimited amount of fruit popsicles until the medicine kicked in. “I was nine and delirious,” he whines, “I could’ve died!”

“Always the dramatic one,” Itachi tsks affectionately and grins. “You would not have died. My mom used to be a nurse - you were in excellent care.”

Feeling his blush reaching all the way up to his ears, Shisui watches as Itachi meticulously swipes the warm, damp cloth across his skin, wiping away the stickiness so that Shisui can pull his underwear back up. “It seems like I still am.”

Now it’s Itachi’s turn to blush, a pretty shade of pink tinting his cheeks that makes him appear glowy in the early morning’s light.

“I’m glad you think so,” he leans down to press his lips against Shisui’s, neither of them caring that the other tastes of sleep. Itachi breaks the kiss, softly saying, “a good lover should always take care of their partner.”

Wrapping his arms around Itachi’s waist, Shisui tugs him back down into his own bed in what can only be described as the human equivalent of an alligator’s death roll - Shisui’s affection roll. Itachi wasn’t expecting it, yelping in surprise as he’s pinned pleasantly beneath Shisui’s weight. The still damp rag falling somewhere to the floor.

“Shisui-” Itachi doesn’t get to finish whatever he was going to say; he’s cut off by Shisui kissing him and there’s little he can do to resist.

(Not that he planned on doing so.)

“Lovers has a nice ring to it,” Shisui manages between kisses, working his way down Itachi’s jaw, “but boyfriends sounds better.”

Itachi gasps softly as Shisui licks and sucks lightly at his throat, confident that Shisui knows better than to leave any visable hickeys - still the thought excites him, to have Shisui mark him up and leave his proof that he’d done it. Sinking his fingers into Shisui’s curls, Itachi tugs until he pulls back, just enough to look at Itachi’s face. He’s so pretty when he’s flustered. “Then ask me.”

Pressed chest to chest, Itachi can feel the boy’s heart begin to pound hard enough that he fears it’ll burst through his ribs. “Itachi,” his voice is so soft as he looks at his beautiful boy with hearts in his eyes, “will you be my boyfriend?”

“Took you long enough,” Itachi mumbles under his breath but he’s smiling and pulls Shisui back down by his curls into another kiss; just before their lips meet, he says, “Yes.”

And then kisses Shisui as hard as he can.

The rest of the early morning’s light is spent exchanging soft words meant for no one else’s ears but their own; pressing lazy kisses wherever their swollen lips can reach - the shell of an ear, the tip of a nose, the dimple of a cheek, the curve of a throat, the soft spot of a jaw, the hollow dip of a collar bone, the corner of a mouth - none of it goes untouched.

At some point, Shisui tucks his face in the crook of Itachi’s neck and doesn’t move. The gentle puffs of warm air against his skin tells Itachi that Shisui is asleep.

Itachi’s own lids are getting heavier, threatening to remain closed with each slow blink. Gently, as to not disturb Shisui, Itachi brushes back the curls tickling his cheek and chin. Shisui is still very much a comfortable weight on top of him. And Itachi, already beginning to drift off, would not have it any other way.

Chapter Text

Sunlight seeps in through the partially pulled curtains, open just enough to bathe Itachi’s face golden, staining the backs of his eyelids a fiery orange glow. It stings and he turns his face the opposite way—only to be greeted by a soft wall of thick curls, instead.

Without opening his eyes, Itachi nuzzles his face deeper into Shisui’s hair, sleepily chasing the fading scent of his shampoo, a perfect blend of spice and woods, and inhales deeply; pure contentment in the soft sigh that escapes him.

And ever so lightly, Shisui’s lips ghost over Itachi’s pulse point. “You could be kissing me instead of my hair, y’know.”

Shisui can just imagine the cute scrunch Itachi does with his nose when he says, “Yes, but your breath stinks and your hair doesn’t.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining about that earlier,” He mumbles, warm breath tickling Itachi’s neck. Whether he was meant to hear it or not (and he’s more than positive that he was), Itachi ignores the remark but not without a petty little pinch and tug on the tip of Shisui’s ear, one that makes him jerk his head up and cry out, “Hey!”

“Serves you right,” Itachi snorts. Shisui grumbles, clearly feeling the opposite, and Itachi laughs as he tucks his face away again. Itachi lazily strokes his curls, a few of them twist around his fingers as if intent to keep him there. “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake.” He admits after a while. 

Shisui presses his lips against Itachi’s throat as he laughs, sending an involuntary shiver through his body because apparently his neck has decided to become stupidly super sensitive  over the last twelve hours. He picks his head up once more, grinning innocently enough. “I’ve actually been awake for hours. You, on the other hand, are the one who slept in.”

Itachi’s eyes open faster than Shisui has ever seen anybody able to do, practically bulging out of his head when he looks over at his alarm clock and sees that it really is so late in the afternoon. “I can’t believe Sasuke didn’t beat down the door.”

“Believe me, he tried.” Shisui laughs, “He was messing with the handle at first and then when he realized it was locked, he started knocking louder and louder, saying ‘Nii-San, Nii-San, why is the door locked?’ in a higher pitched voice that sounds nothing like Itachi’s little brother.

“He can be…a bit much at times.” Itachi blushes a little, used to Sasuke’s antics. “What did you say to him? You better not have been mean.”

“Like I would ever dream of being mean to your brother.” Shisui huffs at the accusation, even if it is the slightest bit true, but only when Sasuke’s mean first and phew, does that kid have a mean streak. Itachi doesn’t seem convinced, though, looking at Shisui skeptically. Shisui rolls his eyes , clearly he’s going to have to prove his innocence. “I was worried you’d wake up if I moved or said anything, so I didn’t.” He shrugs. “Then your mom came by and told him to let us sleep.”

But Itachi only seemed to hear one thing Shisui said. “You really didn’t move just so that I wouldn’t wake up?”

“I’m still right here, aren’t I?” Shisui traces his thumb along Itachi’s bottom lip. “Just like I said I’d be.”

He leans in, kissing Itachi with none of his earlier protests. “Just like you said you’d be.” He echoes with a whisper, relief bleeding through him that the universe did not take this beautiful boy from him.

A text message with the reminder of prearranged plans has Shisui groaning in annoyance and tossing his phone back onto the nightstand beside him.

“I promised Anko I would help her set up for the bonfire tonight.” He scrubs his hands down his face before flopping back down at his sides; dramatically letting out a huff, he stares up at the ceiling. After a minute too long of Itachi’s silence, Shisui looks over at him and feels his heart ache. Itachi is already looking at him sadly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” is all Itachi can offer as he rolls onto his belly, allowing him to burry his face in his pillow, instead.

 He dreads the fact that the two of them can’t simply burrow back under the covers and hide from the rest of the world within the safety and secrecy that his locked door offers. He knew Shisui would have to leave at some point, but now that they’ve made their confessions, it makes it that much harder to imagine him actually going.

Shisui leans in closer to him, pressing a kiss to the space just behind his ear and mumbles, “But I still am.” softly before rolling away entirely; the bed shifting with his weight.

Itachi picks his head up just in time to see Shisui pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. Itachi reaches out, tracing each notch down Shisui’s spine, fingers faltering at the small of his back where the waistband of his underwear sits. Shisui peeks over his shoulder, still tender and bruised from Itachi’s teeth, so that Itachi can see the warm smile on his face that radiates just like the sun.

Being well passed noon, honestly pushing closer to one by now, Itachi knows he should be getting up and out of bed, too, but he finds he’s more than content to prop himself up on and elbow and watch Shisui, instead.

The older boy stands and stretches, long, strong arms reaching for the ceiling that his fingertips just barely brush. Twisting once to the left and then the right, his back cracks loudly, yet even louder is his sigh of satisfaction. It’s a short search for his clothes once he remembers he’d striped down to his underwear after having dinner with Itachi’s family—which wasn’t unusual, but normally they don’t have to pretend like they weren’t making out twenty minutes prior. He’d been hoping for a little more…skin-to-skin contact, expecting absolutely nothing, he just wanted to snuggle and feel Itachi close. Understandably, Itachi was weary about doing so.

Plus, there was the practicality that Itachi didn’t want to be half naked as he slept, which Shisui respected.

(And besides, any feelings of disappointment that Shisui had been left with were quickly quelled this morning by Itachi’s fervent wake up call.)

“So,” Shisui leans down to swipe his dark green t-shirt up off the floor, “are you coming with me tonight or are you gonna make me eat s’mores all by my lonesome?” He tops it off with a pout.

He’d already asked Itachi the day before, but Itachi had just sort of brushed him off without giving him an answer. Shisui wasn’t gonna let him do that this time.

“I don’t know,” He suddenly finds a loose thread on the hem of his shirt much more interesting. “You know that Anko and I don’t particularly get along with one another.”

Shisui’s expression softens, “I do.” He’d tired on more than one occasion to make it happen but he was fully aware his two best friends would never be friends, themselves. They could be civil with each other for Shisui’s sake, but if they didn’t have to interact on his behalf, they didn’t. “But you’ll be with me.”

“And keep you from your friends?” Itachi’s brows furrow, still not looking at him.

“Hey, some of them are yours, too.” Shisui is quick to remind him. Itachi isn’t so shy anymore, or so anxious, and he has lots of other friends—a feat that came quite naturally once he got the hang of it. “If you want to go, I’ll pick up and if you wanna leave, I’ll bring you home.”

Itachi chews on his bottom lip, considering. Truthfully, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to do tonight; he’d still be spending time with Shisui, which is what he really wants, and it wouldn’t hurt to see his other friends, but would Anko feel some kind of way if he just shows up?

He sighs, finally looking up to meet Shisui’s eyes. “I will…think about it.”

Shisui smiles. “That’s all I’m asking.”

He grabs for his shorts that he somehow managed to throw over the back of Itachi’s desk chair and steps into them, tugging them up. Itachi sits up in bed, back leaning against the headboard. He continues playing with the thread, absently twisting it around his little finger again and again and again until pain bites into his skin, already turning and angry red with his heartbeat beginning to throb painfully within.

Wincing, he releases the string and a flood of relief instantly washes over the digit. He looks to Shisui, watching as he attempts to somehow tame those wild curls of his in the mirror perched upon Itachi’s desk. Itachi knows without a full arsenal of styling tools and products its kind of pointless, but he decides to help anyways.

Really, its just an excuse to play with his hair.

Shisui smiles to himself when he catches sight of Itachi approaching him in the mirror. He sits down before being asked, knowing Itachi would have told him to, anyways. Curiously, he asks, “What are you thinking about?”

Itachi sinks his fingers into Shisui’s hair and says a silent prayer that he’ll get them back at the end of this. “Who are you going to tell?” Shisui gives him a confused look through the mirror, so he adds, “About us, I mean.”

He begins carding through Shisui’s curls, short nails scratching pleasantly at his scalp in a way that Shisui has to make sure he’s not drooling. Inconspicuously, he runs his hand over his chin. He’s in the clear. “I don’t know, probably just my dad and Anko.” He doesn’t miss the way Itachi briefly stiffens when he asks, “What about you?”

“Only my mother.”

It was the safe answer, Shisui knows. Sasuke’s love and adoration for his big brother can’t be swayed just because said big brother prefers men over women. Fugaku Uchiha, however, had made his views on the topic well known over the years; particularly showing concern over how “close” his eldest son and his best friend are. “They’re children.” Mikoto had scolded her husband on more than one occasion after he’d brought it up. It was clear to Itachi that his mother would not think of him any differently, would not love him any less.

(Mikoto has spent his entire life making  sure he knows this—that he believes it.)

Unexpected, Shisui tips his head back so that he can look at Itachi. “Is our relationship a secret?”

Itachi hesitates, mulling the answer over and over again in his mind. He doesn’t want to hide the feelings he has for this beautiful boy, not anymore, but he also can’t exactly go shouting it from the rooftops, either. “Only when we’re here.” He finally decides, untangling himself from Shisui’s fingers to brush his thumbs over his upside down cheeks. “Only until graduation.”

Shisui’s brows raise all the way into his hairline. “You’re gonna come out?”

“For you,” Itachi leans down, down, down until his lips are hovering over Shisui’s, “I’d do anything.”

Itachi manages to make Shisui’s hair the ever so slightest bit ruly. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last longer than a few minutes because out of habit, Shisui shakes his head with the equivalency of a wet dog - sending his curls bouncing - and only realizes what he’d done moments too late. Itachi stares at him in disbelief; Shisui guiltily stares back.

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to do it again…?” He says sheepishly, trying to butter him up with a voice that’s sweet as honey.

“In your dreams.” Itachi snorts and rolls his eyes. Shaking his head, he walks over to his dresser.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he calls after him, crooked grin something wicked, “and it definitely won’t be the last.” Erupting into a fit of laughter when Itachi balls up his freshly discarded night shirt and chucks it at his face, his own staining a pretty pink.

“Make sure you watch what you say,” Itachi says, softer than a scold, “at least when my dad is home.” He slips a t-shirt over his head and then steps into a pair of sweats he knows he’s gonna completely regret.

The accusation that he would do anything but makes Shisui frown, brows furrowing. “If tiptoeing behind your dad’s back means that I can kiss you when the door is closed, then I’m not gonna do anything to risk it. You know that.”

He has to.

“I do,” Itachi stresses, pulling the hair band from his wrist to throw his disheveled hair into a thick knot on top of his head, “just like I know that sometimes you speak first and think after.” He motions for Shisui to close the distance between them and the boy does without the slightest hesitation.

Shisui wraps his arms around Itachi’s waist, hands clasping at the small of his back. Itachi’s arms go around his neck, fingers finding their home in the curls of his nape. “I feel like you don’t trust me.” He admits quietly, pressing his forehead against Itachi’s.

“If I didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be the one that keeps my spare inhaler.” Itachi points out, attempting to make the air around them a little lighter. And it works just enough, the corners of Shisui’s mouth curling into the beginning of a smile. “I am sorry - I did not mean to make you feel that way.”

He’s so soft spoken and earnest that Shisui almost forgets entirely what has him so upset in the first place. “I just…” Shisui trails off briefly to think and then speak, “…don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Shisui—” Itachi starts, only to be cut off by Shisui pressing thier lips together. The slightest bit dazed at the suddenness, it takes Itachi a second to get his bearings even after the kiss breaks. “You could never disappoint me.”

Oh, Shisui wishes he can believe him, he really does, but what’s the famous saying? Never say never.

They eventually make it downstairs, Itachi leading the way as they head for the kitchen. Sasuke is sat at the island in the center of the room across from their mother, eating chunks and slices of watermelon almost faster than she’s able to cut it.

Sasuke’s face twists into a childish pout at the sight of the pair. “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to join us.” He only sounds the least bit bitter.

Mikoto briefly peeks up, eyes darting to her eldest and then to his best friend before looking back down at what she was doing - perfect timing, too, as she was dangerously close to nicking her fingers with the knife.

“You know Shisui can sleep all day he’s able to.” Itachi teases, looking to Shisui who’s already going ten shades of red because despite the amazing straight face she’s pulling off right now, Mikoto’s dark grey eyes that are so reminiscent of her son’s are laughing.

She knows, can see right through their facade where Sasuke can’t quite piece it together just yet.

Ignoring his hopefully-one-day mother-in-law’s direction entirely, Shisui teases her son right back. “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to go home where my sleep habits won’t be questioned.”

Itachi’s own face is going bright red. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Shisui grins, “And they say chivalry is dead!” Which earns him a snort of laughter from Mikoto.

Even more flustered than before, Itachi rolls his eyes and pushes Shisui by his shoulders in the direction of the front door. “Let’s go, you ham.”

“See ya later, Sasuke! Mikoto!” He laughs, bringing two fingers to his forehead, giving them a small mock salute.

Halfway through the living room they can hear Sasuke asking, “What does ‘chivalry’ mean, Kaa-San?” Shisui laughs too loud to hear the answer she gives him.

It isn’t as hot outside as the previous day had been, but even so, the heat has sweat already collecting on the backs of Itachi’s neck and knees as he follows Shisui the short distance from the front porch to his jeep parked on the curb. Simultaneously, he’s thankful that he already pulled his hair up and yet incredibly annoyed with himself that he chose sweatpants.

He knew he was gonna end up regretting them.

“You’re cute when you make that face, y’know that?” Shisui grins crookedly.

Itachi hadn’t even been aware he was making a face, and furthermore, “I was under the assumption you thought I was cute all the time.”

“You’re right, I do, but you’re extra cute when you’re all pouty,” his eyes, warm like two pools of honey in the summer sun, flit down to Itachi’s lips and back up. “Makes me wanna kiss you even more than I already do.”

“I can’t wait to kiss you again.” Itachi admits.

Shisui shudders at the want in his voice.

Too many of Itachi’s neighbors know his father, making it still too risky. They’d exchanged goodbye kisses before leaving Itachi’s room.

Clearly it wasn’t enough for either of them.

“You know if you come with me tonight, I would be able to give you all the kisses you want and then some…” Shisui says in a sing-song tone and bats his ridiculously long, gorgeous lashes once, twice, three times in a very obvious attempt to be as tempting as possible.

And it works, too, because within seconds, Itachi is sighing, “I’ll be ready by eight-thirty.” The corners of his mouth curl upwards. “Do not be late.”

Shisui’s eyes light up. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Itachi watches him leave from the driveway. Only going back inside when he can barely see his taillights in the distance. He’s surprised to find that Sasuke has already left the kitchen; unbeknownst to him that Mikoto has sent him to go play in the backyard.

His mother is standing with her back to him, busy washing the knife and cutting board she’d used. Itachi takes a seat in his brother’s previous spot and plucks a rather large piece of watermelon from the glass bowl in front of him, pink juice immediately running down his chilled fingertips. Taking a bite, he realizes only just now how hungry he is, considering he’d slept right through breakfast.

Mikoto sets the dishes on their drying rack beside the sink and turns off the faucet; grabbing a hand towel from their oven’s handle, she begins rubbing it over her hands as she turns to face him.

“I’m going with Shisui to Anko’s later.” He says before taking another bite - or before she can get a word out.

Mikoto has that look in her eyes and Itachi can already feel the vulnerability creeping beneath his skin.

“Anko? Isn’t she the girl who used to tease you because you decided to grow out your hair?” Itachi nods, remembering Shisui being far more upset about the teasing than he ever was. Itachi had always assumed it was because the idea to grow it out was Shisui’s, but looking back at it now, he gets it. “I thought you didn’t like her?”

But I like Shisui, he thinks and instead says, “I don’t, but Shisui wouldn’t let me say no.”

“Ah,” she nods to herself and sets the towel down on the island, beginning to fold it for no real reason at all other than to seemingly pass the time.

She unfolds it for the third time to start all over again for a fourth, it becomes even more apparent to Itachi that they are tiptoeing around the edges of something.

Finally, he gives into his curiousity, “What?”

She looks up at him as if she’s been waiting for him to ask, “So,” she finally leaves the towel alone as a crumpled mess, the corners of her lips curling upwards, “You and Shisui.”

Its not a question.

“Yes,” Itachi does not hesitate even though his stomach is doing flips. “Shisui and I.”

“Itachi,” she reaches forward, laying her hand over his, squeezing. “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you always: I love you no matter what.”

Before going to meet up with Anko, Shisui stops off at home, intent on getting a shower, brushing his teeth, and telling his dad the best thing that’s ever - and will ever, in his own opinion - happened to him.

Kagami’s truck is in the driveway when he gets home, so he parks next to him and climbs out, hitting the lock button three times for good luck - a habit he’d picked up from his father because it was something his wife used to do.

Throwing the front door open, he immediately hears, “Shisui? Is that you, kiddo?” from the kitchen and Shisui can just imagine him sitting at the table, wearing his reading glasses that he’s lost more times than he can count and doing crosswords or whatever else it is almost-forty-year-old-dads do in their spare time.

“Yeah, it’s me!” He shouts back, closing the door and kicking off his shoes. Following his voice, he finds him exactly where he expected him to be, only it’s a big book of word searches splayed in front of him. Ah, so close, Shisui thinks as he sits across from him. “Why, expecting someone else?”

“No,” Kagami shoots him a dry look and Shisui can feel a tiny guilty part of himself secret relieved; his father won’t date and won’t remarry because he still loves his wife. He knows he could “move on” but he doesn’t want to, nor does he think he could ever love another woman like he loves Mura and that just wouldn’t be right. His focus is on his son and he’s content with that. Sighing dramatically, he turns back to his word searches with a highlighter in hand. “Just wondering when my one and only son was gonna remember to come back home and see his old man who spent the last sixteen years raising him all by himself…”

“Okay, dramatic,” Shisui rolls his eyes, letting out a huff that makes Kagami burst into laughter, “I was gone a day! And you’re not even old!”

“Well, where do you think you learned it from?” Kagami pushes his reading glasses up on top of his head, fluffy curls awkwardly pushed back with them. “Anyways, I assume you aren’t staying long?”

Shisui drums his fingers along the table top. “Nah, I’m getting ready to go hang out with Anko.”

Kagami raises a curious brow. “Not Itachi?”

“I’m gonna pick him up later for Anko’s bonfire, but first I’m helping her set up for it - gotta get the snacks and fire wood and stuff,” he explains and Kagami nods in acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything else. Shisui’s fingers still and he begins chewing his bottom lip. After a solid minute of silence (Shisui counted a whole sixty seconds) passes between them, Shisui clears his throat, drawing his father’s attention again. “I asked Itachi to be my boyfriend this morning,” Shisui looks down at his hands and smiles, “and he said yes.”

When his father is silent, he dares to peek up at him - which is exactly what Kagami is waiting for. His smile genuine; his eyes kind. “I’ve always knew it would be Itachi for you.”

“Me too,” He admits, smile growing wider.

“I am happy for you, Shisui, so don’t think for even a second that I’m ever not, but that important thing is that you are happy and so is Itachi - everyone else’s opinion can just fuck right off. You got me?”

“Yeah, yeah I got you.” He smiles bashfully, gaze drifting to one of many pictures on the wall. It’s a black-framed photoshoot his parents did as teens, celebrating their first anniversary. They would be getting married a few years later, and just a few years after that, they would be finding out they were pregnant with their miracle baby. “Do you think she’s proud of me?”

Kagami follows his gaze to the frame. He smiles sadly. “I think she’s the proudest. I have no doubt she’s up there with all the other angels and bragging about her boy.”

Its a thought that warms Shisui’s heart to the point of making his cheeks flush. Talks of Mura became so much easier between the two of them as Shisui grew up - he understands she’ll always be a painful subject for his father but Kagami understands his son deserves to know his mother - and now he does, forever treasuring bits and pieces of her life that make him feel close to her, like knowing that she loved the water so much, she named her son after it.

Eventually, Shisui pulls himself and his emotions back together. He scoots his chair back to stand, arms stretching high over his head. “I guess I should go get ready,” his arms flop back down at his sides, “plus, I still have the world’s best first date to plan.”

Kagami laughs, his boy has never been one to lack confidence.

Dreamy purples fade into deep blues; a truly gorgeous blend that makes up the night sky, caught somewhere between still too light to see the stars and just dark enough that the moon’s bright and silvery glow washes over everything, illuminating houses and trees alike. The nightly summer air lacks humidity but is warm and breezy as it dances around Itachi, waiting for Shisui at the end of the driveway. His phone is in his hand, screen illuminated by Shisui’s I’m on my way!! message that was sent fifteen minutes prior. The wind passes by again, playing with Itachi’s hair that hangs long and loose down his back, just like it sways the tree branches overhead; carrying over the sounds of laughter and loud voices as well as the heavy scent of smoked meat - probably ribs if Itachi had to guess - from one of his many surrounding neighbors having a barbecue.

A pair of brights cut through the growing darkness and then the familiar jeep is pulling up to the curb, narrowly missing the mailbox in front of it. (Driving at night has never really been Shisui’s strong suit.) As if on cue, the passenger’s side window rolls down and Shisui leans on his elbow, propped up on the center console. “Hey there, handsome,” he grins and is instantly rewarded with Itachi’s cheeks tinting a shade or two darker, “need a ride?”

Itachi rolls his eyes as if it’s the most incredulous thing he’s ever heard but the smile on his pretty pink lips shows his amusement. “How chivalrous of you.” He climbs in and clicks his seatbelt into place, adjusting it to sit comfortably across his chest and lap.

Shisui resists the urge to kiss him as hard as he can by driving (and thankfully missing the mailbox for a second time.) “You were the one who said a good lover always takes care of their partner.”

Itachi’s looks out the the window, the whipping wind feels good against his face, working to cool his darkening flush, “You are always taking care of me.”

The second they turn onto the main road and leave Itachi’s neighborhood behind them, Shisui reaches for his hand, interlocks their fingers, and brings it up to his lips. “And I always want to.”

Its a declaration that makes Itachi’s heart burst with adoration and all he can do is squeeze Shisui’s hand a little tighter.

Even with the radio playing in the background, the rest of the ride to Anko’s is met with mostly silence between them. Here and there, Shisui will say something at random - commenting on something in the road or just saying a thought he thinks sounds better outloud (Itachi would argue they rarely do) - and Itachi will respond with something short, sweet, and to the point (yes, no, maybe, I don’t know) or just completely forgoes words altogether and hums in acknowledgment, instead.

Itachi has never been a big talker - especially when it’s for the sake of easing silence - but Shisui is.

“Oh!” He shouts excitedly and unexpectedly, startling Itachi who had been off in his own little world, “I told my dad.”

“Yeah?” Anxiously, Itachi sits up straighter. “How did it go?”

“It went great.” He grins and relief blooms through Itachi’s chest at the sight. “He’s happy for us, and said that the most important thing is that we’re happy,” he peeks over at Itachi, looking down at their joined hands still sitting in his lap, “and I know I am.”

“I am, too.” Itachi kisses the back of Shisui’s hand, lips lingering and Shisui can feel him smiling against his skin. “I also told my mother - or, rather, she told me.”

Shisui laughs but he can’t say he’s exactly surprised after he seen the look on her face earlier - they’re not exactly subtle unless a certain someone is around, and even then that was in the more recent years development; most of their boyhood was (and still is) spent clinging to each other.

Though not surprised, he still has to ask, “What did she say?”

“It wasn’t even a question,” Itachi recalls, blushing lightly. “She said, ‘so, you and Shisui.’ And what else was there for me to say besides yes?”

“You could have said anything,” Shisui squeezes his hand, “but I’m glad you said yes.”

“Watch out for the mailbox,” Itachi points out before Shisui gets anywhere near the curb.

He parks, killing the engine and tries to ignore the warmth from the embarrassment prickling in his cheeks. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

Itachi’s smile is earnest. “Nope.”

Shisui leads them through the open chain link fence, following the concrete path that leads to the backyard; there’s a wide circle of cloth folding chairs, a few of them still empty, around the crackling fire pit.

There’s not an Anko is sight yet.

Almost instantly, though, Itachi is waved over by two of his other friends, Shinko and Tenma, who are sat at the far end of the bonfire.

“I’ll catch up with you in a little?” Itachi almost looks guilty.

“Yeah, go have fun!” Shisui smiles earnestly.

After a small hesitation, almost as if he’s waiting for Shisui to change his mind, Itachi puts on his best brave face and heads towards his friends and Shisui watches him go, still smiling.

He’s so enamored watching Itachi that doesn’t even hear Anko sneaking up behind him, her hiding spot being the nearest tree, until she’s right there, whispering, “Easy loverboy, stare any harder and you might burn a hole through him.” and smacks him as hard as she can on his ass, made a bit more painful thanks to the thin material of his shorts.

Anko bursts into laughter as Shisui damn near jumps out of his skin, letting out the most blood curdling screech a seventeen-year-old boy can muster. Several people - Itachi, included - whip their heads around to see what the hell caused a sound like that out of him. Just as quick, they realize Anko is just being a deviant and lose interest.

Even Itachi shoots him an amused-yet-remorseful look before returning his attention to Tenma and Shinko.

Face scalding with a furious flush, Shisui turns on his heels to stare in betrayal at the best friend he’s had since he was in diapers; she’s currently doubled over, laughing her ass off. When she finally catches her breath, stands to her full height, only to start giggling all over again because of the angry pout on his face.

He shoves her by the shoulder without any real malice. “You’re such a dick.”

“And yet you keep coming back for more.” She cackles and wipes at her eyes, smudging her otherwise perfect eyeliner just the faintest amount. She’s lucky she uses waterproof, considering she just laughed herself into a crying fit. Bitch.

Shisui deadpans her. It’s more of a pout.

“Okay, okay,” she holds up her hands in surrender before tilting the cheap glass bottle of beer in her left hand towards him, offering it as if it was a truce. “Drink?”

Normally, Shisui would have a couple wine coolers - bitch beers as Anko calls them, but Shisui isn’t ashamed to admit they’re fruity and delicious and he enjoys the pleasant warmth from the buzz that spreads through his entire body—to himself, but he wouldn’t dare drink with knowing he has to take Itachi home.

And trying to get your boyfriend home safe while drinking and driving sounds a bit counter productive to Shisui.

That being mentally settled, “Nah,” he shakes his head and his curls bounce wildly. “I’m good.”

“Eh, suit yourself,” Anko shrugs, face impassive as she takes another swig. She watches the way he watches Itachi, again, hearts in his eyes. This time she scrunches her nose. “You’re eye fucking him again.”

He doesn’t even argue that he’s not because watching Itachi drink the wine cooler that he’s been offered makes Shisui want to taste it right off his beautiful boy’s lips. He licks his own lips, wishing. Without a second thought, Shisui blurts, “We’re dating now.”

Its a statement that would’ve made younger Anko sick to her stomach - like most of the other girls in their class, she’d had a crush on the boy with wild curls that just so happened to be her best friend. She knew the feelings would never be reciprocated, not once Itachi came along and Anko saw the way he looked at him (a way he’d never look at her).

It’d been years since that crush had died, but not before staying for an embarrassing amount of time that Anko would rather swallow her own tongue than ever admit. It still catches her by surprise.

“Holy shit,” disbelief is thick in her voice. “I didn’t think you had the balls to tell him how you feel.” She was fully convinced her best friend would spend the rest of his life pining like the lovesick idiot that she knows he is.

“Yeah, well…” he’s bashful, flustered. “…It just kinda happened.” 

“Yeah, well,” she mocks him without malice and rolls her eyes, but she smiles when he does, “I’m glad it ‘just happened,’”

And she means it, earnestly. Shisui is her best friend and she can set aside her dislike (childhood jealousy) of Itachi on his behalf.

(And honestly, Anko’s glad to see that the mutual pining will be over because it’s actually vomit-inducing watching them want each other but having bricks for brains when it comes to doing anything about it.)

Shisui’s sentimental enough to look like he’s on the verge of tears and maybe he is, just a little. “That means a lot to me, Anko.”

Anko flusters just as easy. She takes another long swig and reaches out to ruffle his curls, sending them everywhere. “Just don’t forget to send me an invite to the wedding, loser.”

He and Anko part ways on a sappy note; she has other friends to terrorize and he has a boyfriend to love on.

Earlier that day, he’d assembled the fire pit and was so glad to see it blazing so brightly in the center of the yard. Getting closer to it, the heat prickles at his skin and the thick smoke wafting with the wind stings his eyes, making them water. But its so worth the sight he finds his beautiful boy in—

In the chair wedged between Shinko’s and Tenma’s, Itachi sits cross-legged, holding his half-drank wine cooler in his lap (there’s also a couple empty ones by the chair’s leg but, well, who is Shisui to judge?), listening to his friends going back and forth about something. The orange glow of the flames dance across his soft, moon-lit skin; thick hair falling like a curtain made of the finest black silk over his shoulders, around his face.

He looks otherworldly. Ethereal.

Shisui stands behind him, feeling Itachi’s shoulders tense when he rests his hands on them. Itachi tilts his head back, relaxing once more when his glazed, unfocused eyes meet Shisui’s. “Hello,”

Shisui grins, “Hiya.”

Itachi reaches up, brushing Shisui’s face with his fingertips. “I missed you.” He licks his lips.

Shisui leans down, catching Itachi’s lips in a kiss that tastes of strawberry daiquiri (his favorite); its chaste in comparison to all their earlier exchanges, but it still makes liquid heat pool in Itachi’s gut, the alcohol feeding his arousal. “I missed you, too.” He would be lying if he said he didn’t.

There are a few hushed whispers and cat calls and wolf whistles in response to their kiss but neither of them have the mind to care. Some probably won’t even remember come tomorrow while even less will. Its a thought Shisui pushes to the back of his mind as Itachi pulls him down into the chair with him, proudly displaying that they are each other’s.

For the rest of the night, he’ll press himself closer to his beautiful boy; squeezing him a little tighter, kissing him a little harder; he’d do anything to be able to love on him just a little bit longer.