but never close enough (fic)
Last of the Western AU ridiculousness that I never crossposted! Drabble this time~
But Never Close Enough
There’s something off about his time with Itachi. It’s-Shisui doesn’t know. He can’t figure it out, and it’s like an itch he can’t scratch. It’s-
It’s the hours where they talk, when Shisui’s behind bars and Itachi’s behind on his paperwork and they’re both bored as shit so they talk about anything that comes into their heads.
Shisui mentions his mother once, and it pisses him off so bad he doesn’t speak to Itachi for days afterward. Hours spent in a cell in sullen silence because he can’t fucking believe he opened his mouth on that subject. His ma is off-limits, end of story, always has been, but he’d opened his mouth.
He swears that the only time he’s gonna open his mouth around Itachi after that is if they’re exchanging blowjobs, but the thought doesn’t last, and he can’t explain that either.
It’s worse when they don’t talk. Not because anyone’s pissed, that’s fine, but because there’s nothing they really want to talk about and so they don’t. They just kinda linger in each other’s space and Shisui scratches patterns into the bars and Itachi glares at his papers until Shisui’s pretty sure he’s gonna have a furrow there between his eyebrows and they just…they just.
Even worse than that is when they don’t fuck afterward. Fucking is the method of communication Shisui’s best at, at least when it comes to their sheriff, and he’s damn good at it so why the hell not? They fuck over desks and against walls and doors and it’s fucking good, so why the hell not?
But then sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they just talk, or they just linger, and it’s-all that shit was almost excusable when they fucked afterward because then you could call it some fucking bizarre foreplay or some shit, Shisui doesn’t know, but when they don’t then he doesn’t have an excuse, and he doesn’t know what to think about the fact that he doesn’t even go home disappointed after those nights.
The almost-worst is when Shisui decks someone in the bar or purposely steals something in public view or-something, something petty and fucking obvious because nowdays it’s like he wants to be back in that fucking cell.
It’s not the cell. He knows it’s not the fucking cell, he knows it’s-
And the worst was last night, when Itachi had just finished coming down his throat and Shisui’d been standing up, and then Itachi had leaned forward like he’d wanted to-like he’d wanted-
Jesus Christ. Shisui can swallow the kid’s cock but he can’t even think about kissing him, the fuck is up with that?
Kissing in the heat of passion, fine, whatever floats your boat, it’s all a prelude to the main event, but this-this was aftermath, this was Itachi’s face soft and easy to read the way it only ever is after they’ve had sex, broken open and too close to Shisui’s.
He doesn’t want to know what his own face looked like.
He’d pulled away, of course he’d fucking pulled away, and Itachi’s face had just shut down. Like the curtain dropping at a burlesque show. There’d been a million and one things in those black eyes of his a second earlier and then just like that, gone.
Shisui hadn’t known how to feel about it then and he doesn’t know how to feel about it now.
It’s dangerous enough, what they’re doing already, and that’s just the fucking. There’s nothing good can possibly come out of actually getting involved beyond the physical shit.
But facts are facts, good or not. There’s something off about his time with Itachi, and if Shisui didn’t know better he’d say it’s-
But he does know better, so he doesn’t.
Just like he doesn’t think about how fucking bad he’d wanted Itachi to kiss him right then.
fin
I may or may not have another 5K of this sitting around
But Never Close Enough
There’s something off about his time with Itachi. It’s-Shisui doesn’t know. He can’t figure it out, and it’s like an itch he can’t scratch. It’s-
It’s the hours where they talk, when Shisui’s behind bars and Itachi’s behind on his paperwork and they’re both bored as shit so they talk about anything that comes into their heads.
Shisui mentions his mother once, and it pisses him off so bad he doesn’t speak to Itachi for days afterward. Hours spent in a cell in sullen silence because he can’t fucking believe he opened his mouth on that subject. His ma is off-limits, end of story, always has been, but he’d opened his mouth.
He swears that the only time he’s gonna open his mouth around Itachi after that is if they’re exchanging blowjobs, but the thought doesn’t last, and he can’t explain that either.
It’s worse when they don’t talk. Not because anyone’s pissed, that’s fine, but because there’s nothing they really want to talk about and so they don’t. They just kinda linger in each other’s space and Shisui scratches patterns into the bars and Itachi glares at his papers until Shisui’s pretty sure he’s gonna have a furrow there between his eyebrows and they just…they just.
Even worse than that is when they don’t fuck afterward. Fucking is the method of communication Shisui’s best at, at least when it comes to their sheriff, and he’s damn good at it so why the hell not? They fuck over desks and against walls and doors and it’s fucking good, so why the hell not?
But then sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they just talk, or they just linger, and it’s-all that shit was almost excusable when they fucked afterward because then you could call it some fucking bizarre foreplay or some shit, Shisui doesn’t know, but when they don’t then he doesn’t have an excuse, and he doesn’t know what to think about the fact that he doesn’t even go home disappointed after those nights.
The almost-worst is when Shisui decks someone in the bar or purposely steals something in public view or-something, something petty and fucking obvious because nowdays it’s like he wants to be back in that fucking cell.
It’s not the cell. He knows it’s not the fucking cell, he knows it’s-
And the worst was last night, when Itachi had just finished coming down his throat and Shisui’d been standing up, and then Itachi had leaned forward like he’d wanted to-like he’d wanted-
Jesus Christ. Shisui can swallow the kid’s cock but he can’t even think about kissing him, the fuck is up with that?
Kissing in the heat of passion, fine, whatever floats your boat, it’s all a prelude to the main event, but this-this was aftermath, this was Itachi’s face soft and easy to read the way it only ever is after they’ve had sex, broken open and too close to Shisui’s.
He doesn’t want to know what his own face looked like.
He’d pulled away, of course he’d fucking pulled away, and Itachi’s face had just shut down. Like the curtain dropping at a burlesque show. There’d been a million and one things in those black eyes of his a second earlier and then just like that, gone.
Shisui hadn’t known how to feel about it then and he doesn’t know how to feel about it now.
It’s dangerous enough, what they’re doing already, and that’s just the fucking. There’s nothing good can possibly come out of actually getting involved beyond the physical shit.
But facts are facts, good or not. There’s something off about his time with Itachi, and if Shisui didn’t know better he’d say it’s-
But he does know better, so he doesn’t.
Just like he doesn’t think about how fucking bad he’d wanted Itachi to kiss him right then.
fin
I may or may not have another 5K of this sitting around