Itachi & Gaara log, whut?

[insultthedevil]

Characters: Itachi Uchiha and Gaara.
Setting: Itachi's guest room at the Suna palace.
Rating: NC-17.
Warnings: Sexual content.
Summary: Gaara wakes up, after having been knocked out the night prior to, in a foreign room, which he soon finds out belongs to Uchiha Itachi. What does he want? Dark dealing and uncovered secrets ensue.



His head throbbed in what he could only assume was pain. It increased and decreased, fading in and out like waves against a shore. Slowly, Gaara's consciousness returned, though waking up to immense pain was something he was used to. Usually, he felt nothing…

As he opened his eyes, wincing in the bright, morning light, he began to remember what had happened the night before. Uchiha Itachi had used some sort of spell on him and discovered all of his memories…The thought of it made him ill.

Gaara squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

…This was not his room…He frowned tiredly and studied his surroundings. Could Itachi have brought him here…?

A pair of eyes sharpened at the first hint of movement, and Itachi stood up from the chair that he had been sitting, by the window that was so heavily covered with dark maroon curtains. Suna sunlight was blinding. And while he disliked the moonlight most, he still didn't particularly fancy a bright room, especially now that he had a 'guest.'

He approached with caution, half-expecting the demon 'Shukaku' to lunge at him upon sight. But at last, he moved into Gaara's view, crossing his arms over his chest to study the boy unabashedly. "Good Morning," he spoke, in a monotonous voice, eyes a dull copper color.

Then Itachi paused. The night before, while Gaara and his well-kept (but apparently not well enough, obviously) secret laid in unconsciousness, he had been considering. Thinking. Musing over what to do with the new revelation. Gaara could be of so much use to the Akatsuki...

Gaara glared up at Itachi, though any attempt to threaten him was overwhelmed by the pain in his head and the fact that he felt so drained.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked.

Itachi had to be up to something. This had to be some sort of sign.

"Because," he began, in a tone that made it seem like it was the easiest thing in the world to understand. "I do not believe that your sister would particularly allow you to be left outside all night, unconscious. It was only polite of me to bring you back to my room." Itachi loved the way that his words mocked the situation, as though Gaara was some kind of defenseless woman who had been experimenting with alcohol for the very first time, and had conveniently passed out afterward. As though he was the good guy here. Really, neither of them were actually 'good', in truth, so it didn't matter.

He continued to observe the boy with cold eyes, his face portraying nothing.

Gaara's jaw clenched out of anger; Itachi seemed to treat him just like everyone else did. Despite what he had heard the night before, it seemed this man was really no different. "I can take care of myself," he said heatedly.

His hands balled into fists, tightly grasping the sheets on the bed. He was tired of being treated like a child…But why should that anger him? Itachi knew more about him than anyone else did now. He was probably just going along with the way everyone else felt about him. It was frustrating but it was, unfortunately, the truth.

"Of course you can, how else would you still be alive now?" Itachi muttered seriously, not doubting the power of the demon inside of him, having received a first-hand glimpse of his entire life. "But I only wished to keep you from any...unwanted company, had anyone stumbled across you." After a moment of thought and a shadow of a smirk, Itachi moved to lean down on the bed, hands pressing into the soft comforter and fingers splaying, drawing uncomfortably closer to the redhead. A long strip of his dark hair fell over his shoulder, the tip grazing over Gaara's leg with soft ends. "Would you rather have had me leave you alone out there, all night? I highly doubt it."

The sun could barely make it through the curtains, and only one thin ray penetrated the room, dancing across the velvet pillows that were now unoccupied by the irate boy.

Gaara frowned and backed up, his back pressing against the head board of the bed. There was nowhere for him to go and in his current state and location, it was unlikely that he could use the sand to keep Itachi away. He moved his leg away as much as he could, feeling the ends of Itachi's hair tickling against it.

"Just leave me alone. I don't need anybody to...worry about me."

He wanted to push Itachi away, to show him that he really was not one to be trifled with...but at the same time, he did not want what happened the previous night to repeat itself.

There had to be a way to get around that.

Itachi wanted to laugh at the boy's words, let the chuckle echo in the dark room, but he contained it. "I apologize...Gaara." As he said the name, the red of his eyes seemed to shine brighter, reflecting some sort of amusement in them. "Unfortunately, I cannot leave you alone. I do not attack the fragile walls of one's mind and then simply let them continue on unquestioned." He wasn't blind, he saw Gaara shift away from the touch, and suddenly had the urge to make him squirm even more.

Lifting his hands away, Itachi took a seat on the very edge of the silk bedsheets, his head tilted to acknowledge the boy fully, hair draped over his shoulder, a twisted look covering the earlier amusement. "You will not get away from me so easily, Shukaku," he hissed so softly that it might've been impossible for Gaara to hear. Itachi's hand went out to touch the comforter once again, pressing into it with a silent force that created an imprint of his pale hand almost immediately. He leaned in again, eyes narrowed, still studying the redhead closely.

So…Itachi really did want to know more. Gaara should have known that would be the case. He turned away, focusing his eyes down to the floor but when he heard Itachi's faint, incomprehensible words, he glanced back at him.

"It'd be wise for you to forget about what you saw," he said, his voice wavering. Gaara did not know why anyone would be interested in his powers; no one had been before. Itachi was not like everyone else, in some ways, though; he seemed to think there was some use that the demon inside of Gaara had. He did not know what to think of that; at one point, his own father had thought he could use Gaara as a weapon and then rejected him. If Itachi thought the powers he had been given were not completely useless…Then what?

“I do not waste what I witness,” Itachi murmured, his attention focused entirely on the boy, both cautious and intrigued, thin lips pressed into a fine line. “So many questions…” His voice was low. “So many possibilities.” A dark laugh pierced the room.

Leaning once more closer to Gaara, he reached out with the hand not pressed into the bedsheet, gently smoothing back a few strands of claret hair to press the pad of his thumb against the tattoo that shone dully, catching his interest quickly. “A gift, a curse, but for what? Do you truly know?” His touch was cold, and an anomalous feeling seemed to ghost over Itachi’s skin, like a muted whisper, causing him to draw away immediately.

Itachi's fingers sent chills through Gaara's body. The touch made him ill, nervous, unsure of what to think.

"...I don't know," Gaara mumbled, "It's no business of yours, either."

His body tensed but there was definitely no way he could escape easily now...not with Itachi so close to him.

“Of course it isn’t. But I’ve made it my business now, haven’t I? You were the one who asked, if I am not mistaken. I’ve only shown you what I can do.” The response was matter-of-fact, stating the verity of the situation.

“And there is still so much more that you could never comprehend.” His smirk was wicked, gracing his lips like a misplaced kiss. Itachi let his words sink into the already tense air around them, suffocating and surrounding the one ray of sunlight streaking in across the dark pillows and sheets.

"What're you talking about? There's nothing to understand about any of this," Gaara said angrily.

He loosened his grip on the sheets and slowly began to edge away. If he could just get out the door, he knew he would be able to get away from Itachi and whatever strange desires he had.

Still, in the back of his mind, Gaara continued to wonder just what sort of use Itachi could possibly have for him...

“Not yet, at least. But I plan to change that.”

Itachi saw what Gaara was trying to do, and he would have none of it. Shifting, he made sure that the boy did not escape his gaze, knowing that even if he made a run for it, Itachi could effortlessly step in before he reached the exit. Besides, the door was locked. He wasn’t so idiotic as to allow just anyone to wander on in, though he knew no one would.

Narrowing his eyes once more, Itachi moved his hand forth a second time, knowing that any contact between the two of them was dangerous due to the demon. Still, he wanted to…experiment. To see the carnal crave that lied deep within Gaara; a crave he was absolutely positive existed. A twisted bloodlust. Lightly at first, Itachi fingers wrapped around the boy’s arm, pinning him in place. His grip tightened as he muttered his next words. “I know what you’re thinking. You cannot run from me that easily; I will not allow it.”

Gaara frowned, his mind racing to come up with a way to get away. As drained as he was, it would be difficult to fight Itachi off...he would be a fool to try.

"Then tell me what you want. Quit avoiding the point."

He met Itachi's gaze with an aggravated one of his own. Itachi was pushing him and he had a feeling that he was doing it on purpose, testing his limits...

“I want you. Or, more specifically, what is manifested inside of you, Gaara.” The words hung thickly in the room, undertoned with some sort of ominous. Itachi leaned forward again, placing his other hand on the silk comforter to one side of the boy’s body, while the first removed its possessive touch from Gaara’s arm and went to firmly plant itself on the edge of the headboard, fingers curling around the wood.

“I am sure that you could provide some help in my attaining such a thing.”

They were too close. Itachi’s voice was hot, too impossibly dark, too…too perceptive.

Gaara's moonlight eyes flashed. Something inside of him was responding to Itachi's words and his closeness.

The longer they remained this way, the more intense the feeling became. It was the demon that dwelled inside of him...but perhaps it was also his own subconscious desire.

He raised his hand and grabbed Itachi's shoulder in an attempt to push him away.

"I won't help you with anything."

But he was already proving himself wrong; his hand merely rested on Itachi's shoulder, when he had thought he was trying to get him to back off. Shukaku easily sensed Itachi's power. It seemed that the demon thought that Itachi could be useful to him as well.

“Oh, you have no choice in the matter, I am afraid.” At the contact of Gaara’s hand, his smirk grew, and he knelt forward, his knees pressing into the comforter before the boy’s body. “Now, show me what you can do.”

He needed this demon, this Shukaku. He could feel the power pulsing in the other’s veins just by being so close, and it set a crave inside of him ablaze. He needed to possess it. Had to. Must.

Reaching forward with the hand previously on the bed, Itachi ran a finger along the collarbone of the boy’s neck, tracing his pulse as the fire and vigor flowed through to him. It was a wonder to behold.

Gaara visibly flinched when Itachi's fingers fell across his skin. His ability to control himself was fading quickly and it seemed that Itachi realized that.

It was awful, the way his body was reacting to this man. Gaara's own feelings were completely ignored; every reaction was controlled by the demon.

His arms slipped around Itachi's neck, pulling him closer.

"You'll have to kill me to get Shukaku," he whispered.

“Mm, would I really?” Itachi’s voice was burning, burning through thin fabric and curling at the edges, blackening the air around them. He pressed so close, too close, and closer still, the cold of the metal on his lip against the long line of Gaara’s throat.

With another darkened laugh, he murmured, lips moving over pallid skin, “A shame,” mocking something that was unable to decipher in the heady atmosphere of the situation. His nails dug into the boy’s throbbing pulse, and he allowed them to drag down, lightly, leaving half-visible red marks as he pulled at the front of the other’s shirt. “Can you keep up?”

It was a challenge. He wondered if Gaara would accept it.

"You should be asking yourself that question."

His words were not his own. Gaara could do nothing to stop himself; Shukaku had seemed to take a liking to Itachi, which meant that he would do what Itachi wanted, no matter what Gaara's thoughts were.

He tangled his fingers into Itachi's dark, silky hair, pressing his body against the foreigner's. Itachi's nails broke his skin, though it registered more as pleasure than as pain.

Gaara bit his lip, silent anger flaring up in his eyes.

For once, Itachi did not respond the Gaara’s offhanded growl, pushing him roughly against the headboard as his nails ripped at cloth, eyes focused on the torn skin that he had created. His creation. He had marred the perfection of the demon’s body, but he still wanted more. To fully possess him.

When he’d at last torn the material of the boy’s shirt up and off of him, he reached up to tug one of the long, silken ribbons holding his hair together down, smirking as he grazed his teeth over the boy’s neck. Shifting to pin the redhead’s legs with his own body, Itachi took both of Gaara’s wrists in his free hand, pulling them behind his head and to one of the wooden curves of the headboard. He fastened them there, winding several knots with the ribbon and fixing it into place to allow Gaara enough room to move around, but not get free.

Then, he paused, and stole a look at the boy beneath him. Only here did he say anything. “Your body wants this, doesn’t it? Shukaku wants this.” He leaned in close by Gaara’s ear, breath caressing his exposed skin.

Small beads of sweat formed on Gaara's forehead. He tugged experimentally on the knot but it did not budge.

"...Yes," he gasped, "I just..." He wanted to protest, wanted to push Itachi away, but now, not even his own body would allow it.

Gaara was helpless against him. It was disgusting.

He writhed against Itachi's body, his own thoughts and desires completely ignored.

“You just what?” he asked curiously, hands roaming over Gaara’s body to stop at the hem of his pants, fingertips pressed into the skin there. “Can’t fight off Shukaku?”

Itachi shifted lower, one hand smoothing over the pale curve of the boy’s hip, pushing the material down a couple of inches. “I would not expect you to. He has such power, such control over you, does he not?”

Laughing again, Itachi’s lips fell to his naval, kissing without much compassion, as he let himself enjoy the boy’s writhing and internal struggle.

“Do you feel alive?”

It was true, Shukaku easily gained control over Gaara whenever he pleased.

His hands pulled at the bindings, eager to feel Itachi's body. He groaned softly but forced himself to bite his tongue so that Shukaku could not make any sort of reply to Itachi.

The responses his body was giving were enough of an answer.

“But you know I am using you. Yes, you know. Yet your body reacts to this.” His tone is haunting, and Itachi presses his painted nails into unblemished skin, pushing the material of his pants down further, his mouth curling into a smirk.

His eyes had reddened by this point, flashing vibrant and bright in the dim room, casting a glance up at the straining body of the redhead before he entirely removed the remains of Gaara’s clothes. “Have you ever let anyone do this to you? Perhaps you’re using me, as well.” His lips felt like sin on the other’s skin as he kissed down to his now exposed thigh.

"I have no use for you," Gaara forced out. It was hard to concentrate, to push Shukaku back, when Itachi was coaxing him out.

His body was completely exposed for Itachi to see, to touch, to do with as he pleased.

He pushed against Itachi, trying to fight, but he was beginning to give in. It was hopeless.

“Maybe not, but you would do better telling yourself this was so,” he hissed against Gaara’s skin, his kisses stinging, burning, “…that you are using me. Let the resentment free.”

And then, he loomed closer, his hands forcing the boy’s thighs apart (not that he needed to use such force; it was simply in his nature to control), and kissed that part between his legs, gently, lips resting on one spot. He wanted to hear Gaara in some way, release a vocal verification of the things he was doing to him.

For a moment, Itachi he didn’t move any more, exhaling his warm breath over the redhead’s arousal.

Gaara did the only thing he could do now; he gave in to the desire his body felt. It was pointless to continue to fight a losing battle.

He let out a moan in utter pleasure. This was something he had never experienced, never wanted to experience...

He hated himself for giving in to Shukaku...for giving in to Itachi.

It was then that Itachi took him into his mouth, wrapping his lips tight with another smirk, reveling in the way that Gaara was so thoughtlessly giving into him. He’d make sure that Gaara would remember this for days to come.

And when he finally got to Shukaku, finally striped the last of his defenses away…then the real fun would begin.

Lightly, he laved his tongue along the boy’s pulsing skin, taking in a bit at a time, before slowing easing it out again, not once removing his raw gaze from Gaara’s tense body.

Gaara pulled at the bindings around his hands, straining his arms. His body tingled all over, intense, unfamiliar sensations spreading all throughout it. Itachi's actions were pushing him further and further past his limit. Soon enough, he would no longer be in control of himself at all.

He gasped, clenching his teeth so as to not continue to vocalize what he was feeling…Itachi knew what he was doing and had no inhibitions about forcing Gaara into anything that he did not want to do. His hips thrust up, responding to everything his body was feeling.

Half of him wondered what it felt like to Gaara, being tied and restrained, unable to get free, unable to deny what he wanted. Itachi tightened his hold on the redhead’s hips, all at once taking the boy into his mouth in a fast dip, and sucking hard. His nails cut into pale skin, leaving half-crescents littered here and there, proof of what he owned. He claimed the demon. And he would have it.

Moving one hand from the position at Gaara’s hipbone, Itachi slid it down his leg, gripping at his knee to further push it to the side, exposing the boy to him completely, leaving no place in which modesty could hide. Itachi had yet to remove any of his clothes, and he mused over the effect this might have over the younger boy; he was in control here, and having the redhead writhe like this, naked, while he remained clothed, and it made everything all the more thrilling.

Gaara's eyes fluttered shut, letting his body go by sensation alone. He felt pain, desperation, and pleasure all at once; it overwhelmed him.

His toes dug into the sheets, though he was completely unaware of it. He could concentrate on nothing, pushing himself away from the situation at hand, letting Shukaku edge closer and closer to the brink of consciousness.

Itachi was getting everything that he wanted, it seemed...All he had to do was ask.

He couldn’t help a soft sound of amusement as he continued to test Gaara, the taste of him both bitter and sweet at once. Soon, he was going to have him screaming, calling out without reserve, and it would be Shukaku that willed it. In some way, Itachi felt like he was doing these things to the demon inside of Gaara and not actually to the boy himself. To his body.

The smirk was evident in his sharpened gaze and Itachi all at once released the redhead from his mouth. He paused for a moment, poised, one hand gripping a defined hip, while the other dug sharp, painted nails into the skin of his thigh, moving higher. Then, he shifted up in between Gaara’s thighs, a brow arched to see if the boy would respond to his body’s sudden closeness.

Gaara opened his eyes when he felt Itachi pressing against him. He felt like he could not breathe; not because of his weight, but because of his own body, pushing and pulling him in too many directions at once.

Faint blue markings spread across his skin; the power struggle between him and Shukaku was over.

He grinned at Itachi, his pale eyes gleaming, and began to laugh.

Gaara had been pushed much too far.

At the sound, his head snapped up, and a malicious grin of his own began to twist at his lips. So at last, he’d succeeded in drawing Shukaku out. Itachi shivered with excitement and a sort of wicked arousal, his covered body pushing into Gaara’s as he leaned over, breath burning the insides of his mouth as he exhaled. “Shukaku,” he greeted in a dark whisper, before forcing his lips against the other’s mouth.

Meanwhile, his fingers splayed, violating Gaara’s body further as they traced along the bluish patterns. His hips grinded down, velvet meeting bare skin in a second of intimacy before Itachi pulled up again, his teeth and tongue working the other boy’s mouth deftly. The anticipation inside of him begun to build up, and one hand removed itself from Gaara’s body to work quickly at the clasp of his own pants.

He’d succeeded, just like he knew he would.

Gaara pushed his tongue into Itachi's mouth, laughing into the kiss. His arms pulled at the bindings, stronger and stronger, until he managed to rip himself free. With Shukaku's strength in control, it was easy to do such things.

He brought his hands down, pressing Itachi against himself, ripping at the fabric of his shirt with newly sharpened nails.

A hiss escaped his throat as part of his clothes were torn from his body, the nails piercing bits of his back and drawing blood to the surface. The feeling only brought a wave of intense arousal, and he felt warm droplets of the coppery substance seep into the remains to the tattered shirt. His eyes spun something demonic, the red of the Sharingan blinding in the darkness surrounding them, reflecting the pure rawness that was being displayed between their bodies.

Itachi’s tongue battled furiously, claiming dominance as his teeth bit into the boy’s (although he wasn’t a boy any longer…he was a demon) lower lip enough to leave imprints in the soft flesh. With one hand, he pushed his pants down completely, kicking them off with his feet and caring less about where they landed on the plush carpet floor.

Gaara released his hold around Itachi, leaving bloody scratches on his back. For a moment, he let his fingers brush over the wounds, smearing the thick liquid, only to roughly dig his nails back into his flesh again.

Itachi's dominance was about to come to an end.

He slung his legs around Itachi, the beginnings of a plan to force him into submission.

Itachi growled at the first signs of the demon below him rebelling, breaking the kiss abruptly and knowing that if he lost his well-placed control over him, he’d lose Shukaku completely. Moving to sit up with most of his weight in his knees that were poised forcing Gaara’s thighs apart and prying the legs from around his waist, Itachi leaned down close.

Hot breath grazed the redhead’s cheek as he moved to whisper directly into his ear, his hand moving to gently caress the soft skin of his throat before two fingers pried insistently at his abused lips. “Suck,” he demanded, feeling the thick blood stream down his sides, staining the bedsheets twisted around their entangled bodies. He would make Gaara bleed. But soon. Not now. Not yet.

He smirked and took Itachi's fingers into his mouth. For a few moments, Gaara simply did as instructed, but soon after, he bit down on them.

Itachi'd had his turn, now, it was time the tables were turned. He opened his mouth and pulled Itachi's hand away.

"You can't stand it when you're not in control, can you?"

Hissing as the pain sparked up his arm, Itachi yanked his hand away, inspecting the indention that Gaara’s teeth had made quickly. Luckily, he hadn’t broken the skin, but Itachi was still highly irritated. “So you noticed, hm, Shukaku?”

Sitting back up, Itachi dug the nails of his other hand sharply into the demon’s neck, pressing down as hard as he could out of irritation until they broke skin and blood dotted his fingertips, seeping under his nails. “I suppose you are most of a match than I had anticipated. Of course, I could just…” here he paused, locking his gaze with Gaara, eyes narrowing down as his body ached and his breath came in short pants, “…stop now.”

Gaara grinned as sharp pain blossomed on his neck.

"Stopping now would just make you weak," he said, reaching up to let his bloodied fingers run across Itachi's lower lip, "You don't want that, do you?"

He could tell his words had touched something; not quite hit a nerve...but Itachi's reaction was definitely not a pleasant one.

“No, I would not be left weak, but you would be left unsatisfied,” he whispered in a dark voice, pushing Gaara’s fingers away from his mouth to clean his lower lip clear of the coppery substance. It burned his throat as he swallowed, but he loved the taste that much more.

His back stung slightly in the air around them, and Itachi tilted his head, releasing the tension that had built up in his neck with relief. “If you cannot give me what I want, then I suppose I will have no use for you.”

"If I didn't want to deal with you, I wouldn't have," Gaara said, "Tell me what you want from me."

The demon could make his own choices free of Gaara's own opinions. He was attracted to Itachi and wanted to get what he could out of the situation.

He knew there were ways that he could use Itachi, just as Itachi could use him...But he wanted to hear Itachi's end of the deal first.

“Your power.” The answer was blatantly honest, as he only lied when he deemed it necessary. And bluffing to a demon like this one wasn’t a smart move on his part, especially not when the both of them were naked, aroused, and pressed together quite closely into the other’s vicinity.

“And what do you want from me?” Itachi’s tone had dropped again, low and dark in his own way as he leaned back over Gaara, spreading himself out over the demon, not in a show of submission, definitely not…more in a show of invitation. He wanted to know just who this Shukaku was, and what he could do.

Power. Everyone always wanted power. The King of Suna himself had wanted power, but there was no way that Shukaku would succumb to his will.

"I want you to get me out of this country," Gaara replied, "My host body can't get out on his own. Do that, and I'll give you whatever power you want."

Silently, he considered this. “What makes you so sure I would trust something as tedious as…that? Any faulty acts and Suna will turn against our slight-alliance in a split second, with you being the Queen’s younger brother…”

After a moment he continued, almost musing to himself. “However, with you, I believe that we will not even need Suna’s pitiful aid anymore.” A laugh escaped his dry throat as his eyes darted across the room to land on the opposite wall. The sun had risen just a bit more into the sky, filtering into the room more than before. He guessed he had maybe a couple of hours before he would need to report to Hidan.

“That is, if you hold yourself to your word.” Itachi reached up, threading his fingers into dark red hair tightly and yanking Gaara forward, forcing his lips against the other’s.

Gaara met Itachi's lips with equal force. He would get out of Suna. From there, he could move about freely.

If Itachi wanted him to do something, he would do it. How difficult could a request from a mere human be to fulfill?

He wrapped his arms around Itachi's waist, pushing him against his body.

The room seemed to spin, and with a barely audible groan, Itachi’s hands returned to mapping out Gaara’s body, treating it gently only for the moment. Grasping thin hips roughly all of the sudden, he switched their positions, holding Gaara in his lap with his hands moving up to tightly grip his upper arms.

Their starved kiss had been broken at the action, and he inhaled sharply, selfishly, once more digging his nails into soft skin and bucking up. He knew that even while he was testing Shukaku’s restraints, a part of him wanted this as well…

"You need my power," he whispered against Itachi's ear, "Do what I want and I'll give it to you."

He pushed Itachi down, against the bed, and straddled his hips.

"I don't back down on my word." Gaara touched Itachi's cheek, leaving a thin, red cut along his jawline.

He would get what he wanted no matter what.

With a slight sneer, Itachi reached to touch the cut along his jaw, streaking the blood over his chin before moving his fingertips to his lips and licking them clean. He relished the taste.

“Let’s hope you do not.” His unoccupied hand ran up Gaara’s chest, scraping harshly across the skin. He supposed, for now and only now, he’d allow Shukaku to do what he pleased to him…

…if this power is what he truly would receive in return. “Do what you want.”

Gaara laughed and lowered himself against Itachi. "What I truly want is to tear your throat out and watch you bleed," he said, "But that would get me nowhere."

He tilted his head and nipped roughly at the side of Itachi's neck. His nails dug into Itachi's arms as he pinned them down at his sides.

It was decided, then; he would use Itachi until he did not need him anymore…and dispose of him.

He couldn’t suppress a smirk of his own. “You think it will be so easy, Shukaku? It is foolish to assume one’s own capabilities. Perhaps you have been confined for too long to realize this. Perhaps you have forgotten.”

Itachi wasn’t stupid. As soon as he arrived back at Konoha, he would report his findings to the Leader, and see what progressed from there. The Akatsuki could do well with such information.

He was only being compliant now because he knew that Shukaku was not one to take lightly. But that didn’t mean he would completely sell his soul over to the devil, oh no. Far from it.

Gaara shook his head, pushing himself up slightly to give an annoyed look to Itachi.

"I know what I can handle," he said, "A man like you would be no problem for me to deal with."

He smirked and licked along the cut on Itachi's jaw line. Itachi had incredible powers, there was no doubt about that. Gaara was going to make sure he got all that he could from him.

“Are you sure about that? Mm, but you hardly know me.” He pressed his body upwards against Gaara, almost tauntingly so, as though he was just-barely-giving-in, but not yet completely.

The tongue grazing across the cut made his eyes flutter, and in return his sharpened nails once more dug themselves into a pale expanse of Gaara’s skin. “And yet,” he began, in a breathy whisper, “I already know so very much about you.”

"That doesn't matter to me," Gaara said heatedly, "I don't care what you know."

He pressed his lips against Itachi's, biting on his lower lip.

No matter what Itachi said, Gaara believed he could surpass him...could subdue him...and use him to his own advantage.

Easily, Itachi lifted his leg, pressing his thigh against Gaara’s hip, receiving the crushing kiss before once again breaking it in favor of speaking. (Hardly did he speak so much as he was now.) “Then show me. You are holding back.”

And it was true. If he could be so assured as to assume that he could control him, then Itachi wanted proof, wanted demonstration. “…Or are you simply doubting your own words?” He waited, unmoving, for what the demon would do at his bold challenge.

Gaara's eyes narrowed darkly. He bit down, on the side of Itachi's neck, with enough force to draw blood. As he pushed himself against Itachi, the aura of dark magic that surrounded him grew thicker, the blue marks on his skin became more apparent.

If Itachi wanted to see what he was really capable of, so be it.

He couldn’t stifle a moan at the harsh treatment to his neck, the sharp pain scratching against his nerves and forcing his back to arch out of simply reaction. Something was making him react to the power he felt emanating from the other’s skin, and part of him was damning Shukaku for putting this off--if he wanted to show Itachi what he was capable of, he was taking much too long. Itachi almost considered voicing this fact.

Instead, he only growled low in his throat, hands being thrown to his sides, gripping and twisting the sheets beneath him. “My attention will fade, so do not take your precious time, Shukaku.”

Gaara raised his head, licking the blood from his lips. "Impatient, hmm?"
His magic spread, increasing the pressure in the room to the point that the windows cracked and pushed Itachi further down, forcing him against the bed. He put his hand on the top of Itachi's head, pulling his long, black hair and yanked him up.

"It hurts, doesn't it? Your head feels like it's going to burst...but you can't do anything about it," he whispered against Itachi's ear, "I could do so much more but that would only kill you."

With a shudder of more excitement than anxiety, half of Itachi’s body rejected the pain while the other half relished it. He winced slightly as his hair was yanked on, feeling as though he was some rag doll to be toyed with however the demon above him pleased. In some way, that’s practically the way it was.

“Yet there is a reason for your hesitation,” Itachi hissed, allowing himself to be manipulated only because he thought it pointless to resist. If he did, then he would never manage to use Shukaku’s capabilities in the end. “Of course you could be done with me if you so desired. But I hold the key for your escape, and you cannot waste that, can you?”

Gaara grinned and laughed as he released his hold on Itachi, letting him fall back.

"That's correct. I won't kill you here," he said, "I made a deal with you; I'll give you what you want, you give me what I want and then it's over."

The windows broke, showing glass down to the ground below.

Reaching, Itachi set the palms of his hands against Gaara’s chest, pushing with enough force to allow himself room to sit up, defiantly. “You won’t kill me here,” he repeated, in mockery, “but still you do not do a thing. You sit here, going on about our little deal…and nothing?” He laughed, the sound much like the shattered glass littering the carpet.

“I’ve nearly lost interest now, Shukaku. Persuade me or the deal is gone. I have other things to do, and I am leaving this damned country in but a few hours. Surely you can handle that, if anything at all?”

Gaara's lip curled. He took hold of Itachi's arousal and moved back against him.

"Back out now and I will kill you," he said, tightening his grip.

He continued putting forth his dark magic, as if to further emphasize his words. Itachi had made an agreement. One that Gaara was not going to back out on...but if Itachi broke it, then he would have no choice.

A gasp was torn from his throat, one he couldn’t contain, as he was forced back against the bed. Irritation flickered in his narrowed gaze, and he held the look a while. “I am hardly close to breaking. Good luck chancing upon someone quite as…understanding as I am.” A smirk, even as he was handled so roughly, as though the threat had passed him by unnoticed. “I am no mind reader, but I have ways.”

His hands still gripped at the sheets, pulling them into wrinkles, held tightly in his curled fists. Itachi’s chest was heaving, his breath escaping him in pants, and sweat beaded along his pale skin, but he made no move to further encourage Shukaku’s forceful actions.

"I have my ways as well."

Gaara slipped his hand closer to the head, keeping his grip tight. His sharp nails slightly grazed the sensitive skin.

No…Itachi would not be allowed to just throw away their agreement so easily; he would see to that personally. Of course, Itachi was a stubborn man. By now, Gaara knew that quite well. He would just have to do what he could in order to keep him where he wanted him.

“Everyone does. But are yours enough?” It was his way to constantly contradict and condescend others, no matter who or what or how or why, and it gave him the sort of upper hand, something he always used. A sort of reverse psychology, and in some ways, it was the foreplay of when he will eventually take a step in the other’s mind. A gift of the Sharingan (-and he wonders if any other Uchihas have done this as he has).

“Finish what you started,” he hissed in a lowered voice, arching his back and muscles tightening. The nails on his skin sent sharpened sensations throughout his body, rivaling the pounding of his heartbeat in his head with its intensity, and forcing his teeth to grind together.

Gaara laughed softly. Despite Itachi's pompous words, he knew that he had Itachi right where he wanted him. He released his hold and rested his hand on Itachi's hip.

"Why should I?" he asked, "I'd rather leave you hanging... Leave you wanting more."

With that said, he grinned and slid off the bed, gathering his clothes as he did so.

Itachi collapsed back against the bed, breathless and uncomfortable and agitated, and it made him glower at the ceiling. “Wanting more? Who says I will want more? Perhaps I’ll simply search elsewhere.”

But he knew he’d be back, at least to take control of Gaara’s mind and ensnare Shukaku at last. Though first, he’d have to report to Leader. Narrowing his dulled red eyes, Itachi turned his head to the side to regard the now partly-dressed boy. “You will be ready?”

The question could answer itself. If Gaara wasn’t ready the next time around that Itachi came to retrieve him and Shukaku, then he’d simply leave him. Deal or no deal, he wouldn’t wait and waste any time. (Though Shukaku was tempting enough for him to break such a code.)

Gaara looked back over his shoulder at Itachi. "We made an agreement," he said, "So I will be ready whenever you come back."

The blue marks on his skin began to fade. He turned back, pulling his shirt back on, over the numerous scratches he'd received from Itachi.

He eyed the fading marks with interest, having barely noticed them earlier, and knowing now that Shukaku was buried within the dark folds of Gaara’s mind. At least, for now. He wondered if Gaara had any idea what had just transpired. It made him smirk to think that he didn’t, but he wasn’t about to question it, or even fill the other in.

“And I, as well, will be ready. Until then.” Itachi waited for the boy to take his leave, seeing as this was his own room, and he needed to get everything gathered up before he left to meet with Hidan and the requested troops.

Sparing a glance at the curtains that had betrayed him and allowed the sunlight to seep into the barren room, Itachi moved over, still bare and quite irritated, and ripped the cloth closed over the window, blocking out the sun at last. The room fell into darkness.