[Fanfic] [ItaKure] [Prompt #14] Where Heaven Reaches Land
Title: Where Heaven Reaches Land
Characters: Uchiha Itachi, Yuuhi Kurenai
Pairing: Uchiha Itachi x Yuuhi Kurenai
Rating: M-R
Prompt: #14. Unguarded touch.
Summary: Except Kurenai did not taste wine on her tongue and Itachi smelt faintly of sandalwood.
Notes: Holy crap, you thought I’d abandoned this pairing didn’t you?! Don’t worry, I did to. But then. I found a song, I found pretty words and by god I wrote them all down in my own little fit of delirium. Not as long as it could of been and I tried to make it stand out by itself but I don’t know, I am rusty at their fucked up little relationship. D:
Children went to war, and women forgot what it to have something innocent that suckled at their chest. The dehumanization was like pulling teeth. Eventually the shinobi world would be like a great toothless lion, gumming its prey to death, no longer able to rip flesh but just break bones and hope the shards broke skin instead.
Not that that made any kind of sense, she was delirious with fatigue after all. But sleep would come later. Right now was the post mission haze in the bathtub. Blood seems to take so long to seep out of her clothes, let alone out of her skin, her hair, her teeth. The wine helped, sat on the edge of the bathtub half empty with a lipstick mark on the rim. Sighing and sinking down into the bath tub she lost herself in the water over skin, scented like sandlewood from the soap bubbles that had half dissipated leaving the water a opaque colour.
She sank further, over her chest, her collar bones, to her neck -- where she paused to take the senbon out of her hair and it fell into the water and the subtle metal tool of death hit the tiles with a soft tinkle as soon her mouth, her nose and then finally her eyes sunk behind the inconstant veil that was the water. Body curled up, she stayed like that, tilting her head up every so often to suck in a breath. Under there, the warmth that made her feel lucid, where the sounds that had been loud before were muted and the soft splash of the tap now roared like thunder. She waited, longer again, there was no need to raise her head yet except for breath. Here there was no one and nothing but the lights behind her eyes and the way the water amplified the beating of blood in her ears.
That was how Itachi found her. He’d come to go over mission reports, double checking with her over details. He’d detected her chakra, she’d made no attempt to mask it, and his sharingan had confirmed it. It was was easy to negate her traps and get the door open, easier still to follow the smell of warm water and something spicy. The door opened with a push, and at first Itachi could not see her. Wondered if briefly his senses had misled him. But then he heard a soft breath and the gentle sound of disturbed water and he found her.
It was transfixing, her distorted body in the water, smooth beyond perfection, the rise and fall of breath making her nipples break the surface, reacting to the cold air almost instantly. Hair black and swirling out like the trap of some enemy, the same colour as the black triangle at the apex of her thighs. Perhaps that was apt, because he could not think anything more of a trap then her body under that water. Impossible not to stare, not to be enraptured by. Least of all her eyes, as he reached forward to touch and his hands disturbed the tranquility of the water, they snapped open, blood red.
There was a minute where they stared at each other like that, watching each other through the water. Before at last it was broken by Kurenai’s need to breath again. She pulled up in a smooth gesture, though the water splashed and poured off her body. Still, he stared, even as she turned to him, hair slicked back behind her.
“Itachi” she reached for her wine, body braced against the side of the tub, and he wasn’t sure if the gesture was that of modesty on his sake or hers, “why are you here, the mission is over?”
“Mission reports.”
“Ah, of course.” she reached for the wine and took a sip, precisely over the marks she had left before, he noted. “Perhaps now is not the right time. I have been drinking, and exhaustion clouds my mind, I cannot be precise at the moment.”
He nods, saying nothing, merely watching where the water trailed over her shoulders from her hair. The way goosebumps raised on her skin from the cold contrast.
“You stare so Itachi, is there something on my body?”
“No, merely, I have not...”
“Never seen a woman so bare?” she smiled, and the lipstick she always wore must of stained her skin after so long.
“Yes.” he answered simply.
“So you are back to learn something else then?” she chided softly.
He said nothing again.
“Take off your shoes” she commanded softly, and he did so. “You weapons, your headband, your armor.”
And he did so, for once not neatly placed pile, but in a loose mess behind him. Then when it was gone she raised a hand to him, and he grasped it very loosely as she led him into the bath water. He crouched down, eyes bright and he lent forward, eyes intent on her lips, but a finger to his own stopped his advance and that smile that he never understood was where he wanted to be.
“No Itachi, not right now. I am resting. Turn around.”
And he did so. Laying against her, back to her chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, her knees coming up either side of his hips. It was not the kiss he wanted, but it was the same kind of warmth, and there was no small measure of vindictive pride in it. Of this, this heat that came from the water and her body. A body that many men wanted to find under her clothes, alone. The idle hands finding their way under his now sodden shirt to the skin of his stomach. The one Itachi had, for now, to himself.
“So much of a man, for one so young.” She murmured close to his ear. “Surely this is wrong.”
“Enough for a woman?” he murmured back, letting his head fall on her shoulder so he could catch the edge of her smile through half closed eyes. He says nothing of it being wrong, because they were Shinobi, they took what they could get, and if it truly bothered them, none of this would of happened.
“Perhaps. Does the man wish to please a woman?” Her hand came up, tracing across his jaw and his neck.
“He does.”
“Then he is perhaps...” the fingers slipped, across his collar bone instead. But she does not finish, and Itachi sits up enough, turns his body enough to finally catch her lips with his own. The kiss is light and soft, slick with the water on her lips. The moisture makes the hand that grips her hip slide more then he intended, and then he gives up. If water is to be their medium, he shall move as such, running constantly, stopping only to cup her breast, running his thumb over her nipple, find it just as responsive to his touch as it was to the air. After a moment, when he felt warmer then the bath, she pulled away, sinking back against the edge of the tub, and once more he lent against her, this time with his face into her neck, licking at the water that trickled over her skin.
“Why do you keep coming here Itachi, you should find someone your own age. I should be paying attention to Asuma, and perhaps I would do so if you were not here.”
“Because nothing else has felt like this. For once, I have control” he said back simply.
“I’ll not not ponder on what it says on me that I gave you such control.” she laughs softly, finger curling in his now wet hair. Leaning down to kiss him again, just briefly. “How everyone tells you that you are a man. But how I know you to be everything else but. Rise, I’ve lingered here too long.”
And he did so.
--
Itachi’s clothes were left to dry on a line by the window, and sat on the edge of the bed watching her, towel wrapped around his waist. Kurenai was wrapped up in a robe of some kind, some half scrap of black silky material over her body as she stood by the window, glass of wine in her hand. Sipping while she looked out on the street. Her hair had already started to dry, curling up again though not so much, heavy with the water.
“So quiet Itachi, nothing to say for yourself.”
“I came here to go over the mission reports.”
“Did you now? I told you I was too tired for such a thing and the Hokage does not need them until tomorrow morning, it was just a B-rank. Did not even need to be classed so. There was almost no combat.”
“Almost.”
“Yes, almost.”
The silence stretched, Kurenai at last finish her wine and went to put the glass back into the kitchen before coming back to him, humming to herself.
“I am going to sleep, Itachi. You may join me if you wish. If you think your father will not think to look here.”
It was such a open invitation. He couldn’t refuse it, so generously given. The black material slipped away and she roughly toweled her hair again before slipping into bed, completely naked, and he followed her, tossing his own towel aside. In the dark room, he could of activated his Sharingan to see, but the light from the streets outside was enough through the thin curtain, enough to move like a blind man and find things for himself. Like her shortening breath, the sweetness of her skin with his mouth, the slick wet warmth that he could slide into.
The dark made it easier, to take such bare touches. This was nothing anyone would approve of, would accept. But they did not want it accepted, they did not long for the normality that others could give them, only what they could give each other. Sliding, perfect friction, a comfort born of gasping pleas and desperate moans. Shaking as her legs gripped him and pulled him in, the way her body arched when he pulled her hair hard enough. Mouths open into endless prayers, coercing a deity out of air and heat.
Or perhaps that was too cliche, falling into bed with surety to leave it shaking and spent. Broken like nothing else before. And in the morning, when Kurenai woke alone, and Itachi went about gathering shopping for his mother, it was just that. A cliche that neither of them spent a moment worrying over.
Except Kurenai did not taste wine on her tongue and Itachi smelt faintly of sandalwood, and the great toothless lion smiled, and it seemed to come full circle.
Characters: Uchiha Itachi, Yuuhi Kurenai
Pairing: Uchiha Itachi x Yuuhi Kurenai
Rating: M-R
Prompt: #14. Unguarded touch.
Summary: Except Kurenai did not taste wine on her tongue and Itachi smelt faintly of sandalwood.
Notes: Holy crap, you thought I’d abandoned this pairing didn’t you?! Don’t worry, I did to. But then. I found a song, I found pretty words and by god I wrote them all down in my own little fit of delirium. Not as long as it could of been and I tried to make it stand out by itself but I don’t know, I am rusty at their fucked up little relationship. D:
Children went to war, and women forgot what it to have something innocent that suckled at their chest. The dehumanization was like pulling teeth. Eventually the shinobi world would be like a great toothless lion, gumming its prey to death, no longer able to rip flesh but just break bones and hope the shards broke skin instead.
Not that that made any kind of sense, she was delirious with fatigue after all. But sleep would come later. Right now was the post mission haze in the bathtub. Blood seems to take so long to seep out of her clothes, let alone out of her skin, her hair, her teeth. The wine helped, sat on the edge of the bathtub half empty with a lipstick mark on the rim. Sighing and sinking down into the bath tub she lost herself in the water over skin, scented like sandlewood from the soap bubbles that had half dissipated leaving the water a opaque colour.
She sank further, over her chest, her collar bones, to her neck -- where she paused to take the senbon out of her hair and it fell into the water and the subtle metal tool of death hit the tiles with a soft tinkle as soon her mouth, her nose and then finally her eyes sunk behind the inconstant veil that was the water. Body curled up, she stayed like that, tilting her head up every so often to suck in a breath. Under there, the warmth that made her feel lucid, where the sounds that had been loud before were muted and the soft splash of the tap now roared like thunder. She waited, longer again, there was no need to raise her head yet except for breath. Here there was no one and nothing but the lights behind her eyes and the way the water amplified the beating of blood in her ears.
That was how Itachi found her. He’d come to go over mission reports, double checking with her over details. He’d detected her chakra, she’d made no attempt to mask it, and his sharingan had confirmed it. It was was easy to negate her traps and get the door open, easier still to follow the smell of warm water and something spicy. The door opened with a push, and at first Itachi could not see her. Wondered if briefly his senses had misled him. But then he heard a soft breath and the gentle sound of disturbed water and he found her.
It was transfixing, her distorted body in the water, smooth beyond perfection, the rise and fall of breath making her nipples break the surface, reacting to the cold air almost instantly. Hair black and swirling out like the trap of some enemy, the same colour as the black triangle at the apex of her thighs. Perhaps that was apt, because he could not think anything more of a trap then her body under that water. Impossible not to stare, not to be enraptured by. Least of all her eyes, as he reached forward to touch and his hands disturbed the tranquility of the water, they snapped open, blood red.
There was a minute where they stared at each other like that, watching each other through the water. Before at last it was broken by Kurenai’s need to breath again. She pulled up in a smooth gesture, though the water splashed and poured off her body. Still, he stared, even as she turned to him, hair slicked back behind her.
“Itachi” she reached for her wine, body braced against the side of the tub, and he wasn’t sure if the gesture was that of modesty on his sake or hers, “why are you here, the mission is over?”
“Mission reports.”
“Ah, of course.” she reached for the wine and took a sip, precisely over the marks she had left before, he noted. “Perhaps now is not the right time. I have been drinking, and exhaustion clouds my mind, I cannot be precise at the moment.”
He nods, saying nothing, merely watching where the water trailed over her shoulders from her hair. The way goosebumps raised on her skin from the cold contrast.
“You stare so Itachi, is there something on my body?”
“No, merely, I have not...”
“Never seen a woman so bare?” she smiled, and the lipstick she always wore must of stained her skin after so long.
“Yes.” he answered simply.
“So you are back to learn something else then?” she chided softly.
He said nothing again.
“Take off your shoes” she commanded softly, and he did so. “You weapons, your headband, your armor.”
And he did so, for once not neatly placed pile, but in a loose mess behind him. Then when it was gone she raised a hand to him, and he grasped it very loosely as she led him into the bath water. He crouched down, eyes bright and he lent forward, eyes intent on her lips, but a finger to his own stopped his advance and that smile that he never understood was where he wanted to be.
“No Itachi, not right now. I am resting. Turn around.”
And he did so. Laying against her, back to her chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, her knees coming up either side of his hips. It was not the kiss he wanted, but it was the same kind of warmth, and there was no small measure of vindictive pride in it. Of this, this heat that came from the water and her body. A body that many men wanted to find under her clothes, alone. The idle hands finding their way under his now sodden shirt to the skin of his stomach. The one Itachi had, for now, to himself.
“So much of a man, for one so young.” She murmured close to his ear. “Surely this is wrong.”
“Enough for a woman?” he murmured back, letting his head fall on her shoulder so he could catch the edge of her smile through half closed eyes. He says nothing of it being wrong, because they were Shinobi, they took what they could get, and if it truly bothered them, none of this would of happened.
“Perhaps. Does the man wish to please a woman?” Her hand came up, tracing across his jaw and his neck.
“He does.”
“Then he is perhaps...” the fingers slipped, across his collar bone instead. But she does not finish, and Itachi sits up enough, turns his body enough to finally catch her lips with his own. The kiss is light and soft, slick with the water on her lips. The moisture makes the hand that grips her hip slide more then he intended, and then he gives up. If water is to be their medium, he shall move as such, running constantly, stopping only to cup her breast, running his thumb over her nipple, find it just as responsive to his touch as it was to the air. After a moment, when he felt warmer then the bath, she pulled away, sinking back against the edge of the tub, and once more he lent against her, this time with his face into her neck, licking at the water that trickled over her skin.
“Why do you keep coming here Itachi, you should find someone your own age. I should be paying attention to Asuma, and perhaps I would do so if you were not here.”
“Because nothing else has felt like this. For once, I have control” he said back simply.
“I’ll not not ponder on what it says on me that I gave you such control.” she laughs softly, finger curling in his now wet hair. Leaning down to kiss him again, just briefly. “How everyone tells you that you are a man. But how I know you to be everything else but. Rise, I’ve lingered here too long.”
And he did so.
--
Itachi’s clothes were left to dry on a line by the window, and sat on the edge of the bed watching her, towel wrapped around his waist. Kurenai was wrapped up in a robe of some kind, some half scrap of black silky material over her body as she stood by the window, glass of wine in her hand. Sipping while she looked out on the street. Her hair had already started to dry, curling up again though not so much, heavy with the water.
“So quiet Itachi, nothing to say for yourself.”
“I came here to go over the mission reports.”
“Did you now? I told you I was too tired for such a thing and the Hokage does not need them until tomorrow morning, it was just a B-rank. Did not even need to be classed so. There was almost no combat.”
“Almost.”
“Yes, almost.”
The silence stretched, Kurenai at last finish her wine and went to put the glass back into the kitchen before coming back to him, humming to herself.
“I am going to sleep, Itachi. You may join me if you wish. If you think your father will not think to look here.”
It was such a open invitation. He couldn’t refuse it, so generously given. The black material slipped away and she roughly toweled her hair again before slipping into bed, completely naked, and he followed her, tossing his own towel aside. In the dark room, he could of activated his Sharingan to see, but the light from the streets outside was enough through the thin curtain, enough to move like a blind man and find things for himself. Like her shortening breath, the sweetness of her skin with his mouth, the slick wet warmth that he could slide into.
The dark made it easier, to take such bare touches. This was nothing anyone would approve of, would accept. But they did not want it accepted, they did not long for the normality that others could give them, only what they could give each other. Sliding, perfect friction, a comfort born of gasping pleas and desperate moans. Shaking as her legs gripped him and pulled him in, the way her body arched when he pulled her hair hard enough. Mouths open into endless prayers, coercing a deity out of air and heat.
Or perhaps that was too cliche, falling into bed with surety to leave it shaking and spent. Broken like nothing else before. And in the morning, when Kurenai woke alone, and Itachi went about gathering shopping for his mother, it was just that. A cliche that neither of them spent a moment worrying over.
Except Kurenai did not taste wine on her tongue and Itachi smelt faintly of sandalwood, and the great toothless lion smiled, and it seemed to come full circle.