FLUFF, OODLES OF IT
I am so, so incredibly thrilled about the news today, and I need to process my feelings somehow, so you guys get sap. Enjoy, and I hope you are all well. :D
.
like a riot, oh
.
It’s been raining all day, but the sun is shining by the time they leave the courtroom.
Shisui stops on the top step, still holding his hand.
After a few seconds, Itachi clears his throat. “You realize our family is going to assassinate us for not inviting them,” he says.
Well, not that they’d had time to send out invitations. Shisui had simply woken him up by asking if Itachi wanted to get married, which…actually rated fairly high on Itachi’s list of wakeup calls. He supposes he could have been rational, accepted the proposal and then started planning a “proper” ceremony with invitations and cakes and enough plant life to populate a small rainforest. He supposes that when Shisui had asked the question he hadn’t necessarily meant today, right fucking now.
But, well, it was Shisui. Shisui with his big black eyes and his curious ability to make Itachi’s heart (and rationality) implode on a regular basis. What else was Itachi going to do?
Shisui, by the way, still hasn’t spoken. Or moved. He’s staring rather determinedly at his shoes, actually, and Itachi is starting to worry. He hasn’t been quiet for this many consecutive seconds since he had throat surgery at age thirteen, and even that was only after the nurses empathetically informed him that he could choke on his own blood if he didn’t shut up.
“Shisui?” Itachi ventures, and barely gets a twitch in response.
The answer comes like a knife to the gut. Of course. Shisui’s gone and done something impulsive again and now he regrets it. He’s gotten the proverbial cold feet and Itachi was an idiot for giving spontaneity a chance.
He’s opening his mouth to say it’s fine, they can still turn around right now and sign the divorce papers (they probably keep them right next to the marriage licenses; it sounds depressing enough to be true) and just stay engaged for now. Or not. If Shisui’s happy just living together and having the occasional bout of mind-blowing sex, then Itachi can live with that. He can be happy with that.
The words are crowding in the back of his throat, making it hard to speak, when Shisui finally looks up with a determined expression.
Before Itachi can say anything, Shisui takes a deep breath and absolutely bellows:
“It’s legal now, bitches!”
Every single person passing by the courtroom turns to look at them. Some even stop walking, no doubt fascinated to see a madman in broad daylight.
Itachi gapes. Shisui continues to yell, a bright, feverish light in his eyes.
“See this guy here?” He shakes their joined hands up and down, as if his audience might get confused otherwise. “This guy is my motherfucking husband!”
Someone, somewhere, calls back, “Good for you!” At least three people have taken out their cellphones. Itachi considers throwing himself down the rest of the steps.
“And we’re married,” Shisui continues. “And nobody can take that shit away from us.”
There’s an odd note in his voice. It pulls Itachi from his well of mortification and forces him to turn.
Shisui is crying.
Which is an almost unheard-of occurrence-rarer even than his silence. Itachi’s fairly sure his heart makes some kind of twanging noise.
His husband is not an attractive crier. Less so when he’s trying so hard to get himself back under control, screwing up his mouth and swiping furiously at his eyes with the sleeve of his suit, tears streaming down his face no matter what he does.
So it’s odd that this, of all the things that’ve happened today, forces Itachi to confront the sheer magnitude of his love for this person.
Suffice it to say: it’s an embarrassing amount.
The sobs are beginning to trail into sniffles by this point, so Itachi tries again.
“Shisui?” he says gently.
Shisui continues to sniffle, but he looks at him.
“Is my mascara running?” he croaks, a grin spreading across his face.
Itachi smiles back.
“Aren’t you glad I convinced you not to wear it?” he replies, and then, before Shisui can muster a retort, he cups his face with his free hand and kisses him.
There’s some scattered applause from the passerby, but Itachi doesn’t really pay attention. His focus is entirely on the feeling of Shisui’s mouth against his own and, when Shisui brings his hand up, the clink of their ring fingers knocking together.
He doesn’t need anything else.
.
.
“Shisui.”
“Mmf.”
“Shisui, look at this.”
“Oh my god, you freak, will you please get some sleep like a normal person? I promise we can do taxes and other boring married-couple shit tomorrow since I know that gets you going-”
“Is there a name for a male black widow, do you think?”
“…Fine, but if this is another cat video I will holy fuck.”
“Indeed.”
“Is that us?”
“Cellphone video. Apparently someone uploaded it earlier today.”
“Twelve thousand hits?”
“Half the comments are talking about your speech, and the other half are talking about the kiss. Apparently the denizens of YouTube have too much time on their hands.”
“Holy shit, I’m famous.”
“No, you are not.”
“I’m famous, ‘tachi. I’m like Batman!”
“I should have known this would happen.”
“No, seriously, with the suit and everything? I am totally Batman. Which makes you Catwoman!”
“And that will exonerate me when I decide to murder you in your sleep, no doubt.”
“Please, they’re like, the second-greatest love story of all time.”
“Am I going to regret asking what the first one is?”
“Well, duh. That’s us, genius.”
“…Of course.”
“And they call you the smart one.”
“Go back to sleep, Shisui.”
“Oh, so you’re not gonna try to murder me while I’m out?”
“No.”
“Not even when we’re, like, eighty or something?”
“…Not even then.”
“Oh. Good.”
“Goodnight, Shisui.”
“’Night Itachi.”
.
like a riot, oh
.
It’s been raining all day, but the sun is shining by the time they leave the courtroom.
Shisui stops on the top step, still holding his hand.
After a few seconds, Itachi clears his throat. “You realize our family is going to assassinate us for not inviting them,” he says.
Well, not that they’d had time to send out invitations. Shisui had simply woken him up by asking if Itachi wanted to get married, which…actually rated fairly high on Itachi’s list of wakeup calls. He supposes he could have been rational, accepted the proposal and then started planning a “proper” ceremony with invitations and cakes and enough plant life to populate a small rainforest. He supposes that when Shisui had asked the question he hadn’t necessarily meant today, right fucking now.
But, well, it was Shisui. Shisui with his big black eyes and his curious ability to make Itachi’s heart (and rationality) implode on a regular basis. What else was Itachi going to do?
Shisui, by the way, still hasn’t spoken. Or moved. He’s staring rather determinedly at his shoes, actually, and Itachi is starting to worry. He hasn’t been quiet for this many consecutive seconds since he had throat surgery at age thirteen, and even that was only after the nurses empathetically informed him that he could choke on his own blood if he didn’t shut up.
“Shisui?” Itachi ventures, and barely gets a twitch in response.
The answer comes like a knife to the gut. Of course. Shisui’s gone and done something impulsive again and now he regrets it. He’s gotten the proverbial cold feet and Itachi was an idiot for giving spontaneity a chance.
He’s opening his mouth to say it’s fine, they can still turn around right now and sign the divorce papers (they probably keep them right next to the marriage licenses; it sounds depressing enough to be true) and just stay engaged for now. Or not. If Shisui’s happy just living together and having the occasional bout of mind-blowing sex, then Itachi can live with that. He can be happy with that.
The words are crowding in the back of his throat, making it hard to speak, when Shisui finally looks up with a determined expression.
Before Itachi can say anything, Shisui takes a deep breath and absolutely bellows:
“It’s legal now, bitches!”
Every single person passing by the courtroom turns to look at them. Some even stop walking, no doubt fascinated to see a madman in broad daylight.
Itachi gapes. Shisui continues to yell, a bright, feverish light in his eyes.
“See this guy here?” He shakes their joined hands up and down, as if his audience might get confused otherwise. “This guy is my motherfucking husband!”
Someone, somewhere, calls back, “Good for you!” At least three people have taken out their cellphones. Itachi considers throwing himself down the rest of the steps.
“And we’re married,” Shisui continues. “And nobody can take that shit away from us.”
There’s an odd note in his voice. It pulls Itachi from his well of mortification and forces him to turn.
Shisui is crying.
Which is an almost unheard-of occurrence-rarer even than his silence. Itachi’s fairly sure his heart makes some kind of twanging noise.
His husband is not an attractive crier. Less so when he’s trying so hard to get himself back under control, screwing up his mouth and swiping furiously at his eyes with the sleeve of his suit, tears streaming down his face no matter what he does.
So it’s odd that this, of all the things that’ve happened today, forces Itachi to confront the sheer magnitude of his love for this person.
Suffice it to say: it’s an embarrassing amount.
The sobs are beginning to trail into sniffles by this point, so Itachi tries again.
“Shisui?” he says gently.
Shisui continues to sniffle, but he looks at him.
“Is my mascara running?” he croaks, a grin spreading across his face.
Itachi smiles back.
“Aren’t you glad I convinced you not to wear it?” he replies, and then, before Shisui can muster a retort, he cups his face with his free hand and kisses him.
There’s some scattered applause from the passerby, but Itachi doesn’t really pay attention. His focus is entirely on the feeling of Shisui’s mouth against his own and, when Shisui brings his hand up, the clink of their ring fingers knocking together.
He doesn’t need anything else.
.
.
“Shisui.”
“Mmf.”
“Shisui, look at this.”
“Oh my god, you freak, will you please get some sleep like a normal person? I promise we can do taxes and other boring married-couple shit tomorrow since I know that gets you going-”
“Is there a name for a male black widow, do you think?”
“…Fine, but if this is another cat video I will holy fuck.”
“Indeed.”
“Is that us?”
“Cellphone video. Apparently someone uploaded it earlier today.”
“Twelve thousand hits?”
“Half the comments are talking about your speech, and the other half are talking about the kiss. Apparently the denizens of YouTube have too much time on their hands.”
“Holy shit, I’m famous.”
“No, you are not.”
“I’m famous, ‘tachi. I’m like Batman!”
“I should have known this would happen.”
“No, seriously, with the suit and everything? I am totally Batman. Which makes you Catwoman!”
“And that will exonerate me when I decide to murder you in your sleep, no doubt.”
“Please, they’re like, the second-greatest love story of all time.”
“Am I going to regret asking what the first one is?”
“Well, duh. That’s us, genius.”
“…Of course.”
“And they call you the smart one.”
“Go back to sleep, Shisui.”
“Oh, so you’re not gonna try to murder me while I’m out?”
“No.”
“Not even when we’re, like, eighty or something?”
“…Not even then.”
“Oh. Good.”
“Goodnight, Shisui.”
“’Night Itachi.”