[Fic Commentary] Itachi/Shisui -- Admission Half Price on Wednesdays 2/2
Title: Admission Half Price on Wednesdays [DVD Commentary] 2/2
Summary: In which Shisui is distracted, Itachi is lazy, and a day at the water park is the best way to confront not-so-hidden feelings.
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"Times New Roman"">It's around midday that Shisui finally gets sick of floating around the river, so he propels himself to the nearest set of stairs and waits for Itachi to make another lap around before tossing wood chips in his direction. The first chip bounces off Itachi's chest, and Itachi just looks around in confusion for a moment before settling back into his intertube. His shorts have ridden up a bit, revealing tantalizing glimpses of thigh. The skin there's starting to turn rosy, and Shisui snickers and wonders just how many times in one day Itachi's supposed to apply sunscreen in order to not get burnt. He chucks another wood chip, pleased when it bounces off Itachi's thigh. Itachi lifts the shades, perches them on the top of his head and glares at him with vaguely drowsy eyes. I also have a thing for Itachi in sunglasses, because seriously, he would look so awesome in them. Shisui smirks and jerks his head towards a hot dog stall, hissing "C'mon, braniac I actually think brainiac was Allie's word. I think I had asshole or something here before, and she vetoed it because apparently I curse too much. I am glad though. Brainiac is better, and Shisui doesn't sound like such a... well, asshole., even a freak like you's gotta be hungry by now."
Itachi just rolls his eyes again, nudges the glasses back down and shuffles his body out of the inner tube's rubbery clutches. Once he's free to stand properly in the lukewarm water, he gingerly begins to make his way through the rest of the river's occupants and toward the stairs.
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"Times New Roman"">Turns out the hot dogs taste like crap, so they get ice cream instead, Itachi digging blindly around in his back pocket for his wallet with his free hand while he happily goes to work on his strawberry-vanilla-swirl. Me and Allie had an entire conversation about what kind of ice cream they would like. Shisui watches him for a moment, the way his eyes go half-lidded in pleasure - ice cream slip sliding down the side of the cone. His hands are sticky with the stuff, tongue darting out to lick the sticky treat away from his fingers. He wraps his lips around two of his fingers, sucking wetly at the cream there and Shisui looks away blushing- back to the smiling attendant who's offering him his triple chocolate cone. Oral fixation, much? It isn't my fault, I swear. I blame Allie. She always has something or another stuck in her mouth- cigarettes, pens, ice cream, whatever. Not my fault. Any other time he'd be grinning at the girl, leaning in and offering corny pick up lines that are far too tragic to be heartfelt, dumb one-liners that make girls giggle behind their dainty hands and scribble phone numbers across the curve of his wrist.
This time though, his brain is too caught up with the pornographic display that his baby cousin is making beside him to do anything except stutter out that he'll pay for both of them. The girl just grins at him knowingly, leaning out of the window as she's passing his change back to him and offering him a saucy wink. "Have a nice day, you two," she grins, and if anything, Shisui's flush darkens even further. He chances another glance back towards Itachi, but nope- other than a grateful nod of thanks and something that could possibly pass as a lopsided half smile, he's still going down on his ice-cream.
He ducks away from the girl and her knowing smiles, tugging Itachi along behind him and wonders what the girl would say if she knew that the boy he was checking out was actually his kid cousin. He decides that he really probably doesn't want to know.
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"Times New Roman"">They finish their ice-cream in the cool air conditioning of the Arcade, because after three minutes of direct sunlight the cool treats had quickly dissolved into a soupy kind of liquid, held precariously in place by the sides of the cone. When the ice-cream soup had started leaking out the bottom, they'd scrambled to find shelter. They'd probably left a sugar-y, sticky path behind them, a pink white and brown spattering of color against the hot concrete like an abstract painting. Paintings! Itachi hadn't made it in time, losing half his soup cocktail of ice-cream onto his precious gray atrocity of a t-shirt before they'd even crossed the threshold.
The make-shift picnic tables of the arcade are extremely uncomfortable. And what's more, the A/C- such a godsend just seconds before, is quickly becoming a problem. It chills their wet clothes until they're both forced to throw out the remains of their ice-cream before they turn into popsicles themselves. Shisui eyes Itachi's shirt with a critical eye, the canvass of gray and the sticky, sweet paint spatters of ice-cream smeared across it. More paintings! Itachi looks unconcerned, glancing around him idly as he rubs his hands up and down his arms. The goose flesh breaking out across Itachi's arms provides a suitable distraction from fashion atrocities and the food that decorate them.
It's only when Itachi makes to stand up- already angling himself towards the entrance of the arcade that Shisui realizes that Itachi actually intends to go back out there with food all down his front. He has half a mind to lunge across the table and strip Itachi there- tossing the horrid shirt someplace that Itachi will never find it.
"You have got to be kidding me," is what he says instead, eying his friend with a look of horror. Itachi just raises an eyebrow at him, nudging the sunglasses down his nose a bit so that Shisui can see his look of confusion. "What?" he asks, and Shisui really, really doesn't know how he got roped into this.
Except he does, because one, as previously noted, it is ridiculously hot and two, Itachi had asked him to go. And in the end, Shisui never has the balls to turn down a request from Itachi. He doesn't. Itachi is his kryptonite. Also, Louis get off of my lap, you are halfway on the keyboard and this is not an easy way to type. Don't look at me like that. I don't care that you're cute.
"You can't just keep wearing that," he protests, gesticulating in the general direction of Itachi's chest.
Itachi's eyebrow creeps higher, edging up into his hairline now. "And why not?" he asks, and oh god, he's serious-
Shisui's around the table before he can blink, sliding onto the damp wood next to Itachi. He slides his fingers beneath the hem of his cousin's shirt, palm brushing up along the chilly and slightly damp flesh of Itachi's ribs, and Itachi shudders- breath hitching in a noticeable way and pressing closer, into Shisui's touch. Also a kink for Shisui undressing Itachi, even if it's mostly innocent, there's still all that sex-u-al ten-sion.
Shisui tugs up on the shirt, far too fascinated by the way his knuckles drag along Itachi's torso on the way, his thumb brushing against one pebbled nipple and over the jut of his cousin's collarbone. Itachi lets out a sound that sounds too much like a sigh, less like the manly protest he's supposed to be making, the "no homo, dudes" and laughing taunts of "Dude, you totally want my body" suspiciously absent. And then the shirt's over Itachi's head, and his cousin's left gaping at him, flushed and breathing just a bit heavier than he had been a moment ago, dark hair coming loose from its ponytail. mm, turned on Itachi. There are strands hanging into his eyes now, the tie holding his hair in place slack and half out. They stare at each other for several seconds, both trying to catch their breath and wonder what the fuck just happened-
Shisui laughs a bit, grip tightening on the evil shirt until his knuckles go white. He doesn't dare get up just yet.
Itachi clears his throat and glances around the place, hands already going to the back of his head. He tugs his hair out of its confinement, lets it settle damply around bare shoulders as he works pale fingers through the few knots it had acquired in the lazy river. Shisui watches Itachi clench the hair tie between his teeth as he gathers the hair back at the nape of his neck, his fingers itching to reach forward to help, even as Itachi finally secures the tie in place.
And then they're left staring at each other again, which is almost enough to render Shisui unable to climb to his feet again. Frantically, he casts a glance around the place, eying the dozens of car games, the shooting games, the DDR (he flinches away from that idea) and ah- perfect.
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"Times New Roman"">"I can't believe you won me a toy dragon." Itachi says, the dragon in question tucked up against his hip. He glances down at it and smiles, then nails another zombie in the head. Fuck, Shisui only wishes his head shots were that perfect. He curses as a zombie sprints up to him, the screen flashing red twice when he fails to hit it. He backs away a bit and pulls the trigger, appeased when the zombie's chin is blown to pieces. Because this story would not have been mine without some form of zombie reference in it. Especially since this was written during the very start of my obsession with zombie apocalypses. I'm actually pretty sure I wrote this around the time that I first read Feed.
He glances at the toy himself and tries not to blush. He'd been aiming for the little toy weasel, thinking himself clever and enjoying Itachi's disgruntled sigh when he'd noticed what he'd been aiming for. But the crane had closed around the head of a bright pink dragon, one with glittery-y pale pink wings and matching glitter toes. A dragon who smiled up at you, clutching onto a white-pink heart that proclaimed "Be Mine" in childishly scrawled letters. He clears his throat. This dragon also exists. Allie got him and two other dragons for me as a valentines present. One is red with "xoxo" and the other is a paler pink that sings "Ring of Fire" when you push on it's foot. They're adorable.
"Hey man, it's not like I need it or anything." He grins slyly and glances over to Itachi after taking out another three zombies in quick succession. "I mean, hey, if pink isn't your color you can, like, totally give it to Sasuke or something."
Itachi clenches his jaw, and opens fire on the horde of zombies surrounding them. What the shit, where the hell did he get a machine gun? This is frequently something that happens when I play zombie games with more skilled players. If I'm playing with Allie or Donna, I frequently have to go back for them, but if I'm playing with any of the guys? It's very "what the fuck, how did you even get that gun? That isn't allowed." He then reconsiders his statement, cocks his head as the half-decomposed body of a ravenous housewife hurtles out of a doorway to his left. Itachi gets it before he can with a shot that probably would have gone wild if Shisui had attempted it. "Well, just don't tell Sasuke that I won it."
He fires another shot and one more zombie collapses, a hole placed neatly in the center of his neck. Vertebrae and gore glitters wetly up at them. Ugh, they've definitely upped the zombie-violence visuals recently. He wonders if maybe he'd accidently increased the blood spatter count to high when they'd been adding their quarters. "Hell, if you tell him you got it, he won't care if it's pink. Sunshine and rainbows can spout out of its ass and he'll still think it's the greatest thing in the whole damn world." True story, bro.
Itachi glances over at him, dark eyes reflecting white-blue from the video game, and it's funny how intense the kid has gotten over this game. Itachi drops his eyes after a moment of staring, a flush stealing across his cheeks as he takes out another ten zombies in a row. And what the hell, how is he even doing that?
"I like it," Itachi whispers, voice so quiet that Shisui can barely hear him. The hand that's not holding his pistol is stroking across the dragon's wide magenta forehead.
Huh, well that's different. Unseen, a zombie gnaws through Shisui's character's throat, his side of the screen flashing at him "Insert Coin to Continue... 10... 9..."
Itachi's flush darkens, and he glances at Shisui out of the corner of his eyes. A horde ambushes his character and both of their screens are flashing now. They both glance back to Itachi's side of the screen, surprised. Itachi's lip twitches. "You ass, you got me killed," he says, and Shisui snorts, because Itachi's cursing combined with his normal polite tone is definitely something to be amused about. Then Shisui's grinning over at him, and Itachi stares back, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile. The countdowns on the screen vanish, and the demo video starts back up.
"So, Pacman, Jurassic Park, or..." Shisui trails off as he looks past the flashing, fluorescent lights of the games at the wall-sized poster of a conglomeration hey look, more conglomeration. I think that this one was even me actually using the word instead of Allie just editing it in. of dark, winding tube s."Do you think you're man enough to try the Dark Hole?" he grins, already gripping Itachi and the damn dragon, pulling them towards the entrance of the Arcade without waiting for an answer.
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"Times New Roman"">Itachi doesn't quite scream when they ride double down the pitch black slide, but he also downright refuses to get back in line for a second go as he wrings the water out of his reptile companion. Shisui likes to consider this a victory. I took my mom down this thing once. We rode double, and she nearly blew my eardrums out, she was screaming so loud. If I'd known she was that claustrophobic, I wouldn't have even made the attempt.
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"Times New Roman"">On their way back to their bags, they pass several more food stalls, none very tempting until they spy the one that's advertising for "Fresh hot kettle corn and steamingly sweet elephant ears." Itachi's already making a beeline towards it before Shisui even before he can mention it. Itachi leans into the window, watching the fryers and the powdered sugar with a rapt eye, his nostrils going wide as he inhales the smell of sugar and all things diabetes-related. When the old, balding vendor asks him what he'd like, he orders an elephant ear with everything on it.
Shisui doesn't realize that when he says everything, he means everything. At least until he's sitting at another uncomfortable picnic table, their newly acquired dragon (who Shisui has dubbed Norbert in the confines of his own head, where he can't get made fun of for dumb Harry Potter references) Ahaha! And Norbert is named! propped up against his side, watching Itachi bite into fried pastry covered with fudge and nuts, drizzled with both strawberries AND peaches. With each bite an assortment of candy falls off the confection to bounce across the table. Shisui watches in horror as his cousin inhales the treat, unconcerned when fudge spills off the treat and into the dip of his collarbone. A slice of peach slips off and lands on Itachi's stomach, spattering sugar everywhere when it lands. Itachi doesn't move, seemingly enraptured.
There's one part of Shisui that is extremely sickened by what his cousin is putting into his stomach. (I personally, would fall into this first category. This would be Alex-eating-a-donut-burger level of gross. And yes, my friends, it exists. I watched my friend eat a burger with a donut as the bun. It was gross) And then there's this other part that's completely fascinated by the path the fudge is making as it trickles down his chest. It's this part of him that has his hands trembling beneath the table and contemplating the fact that he's never wanted to lick something off someone so bad, including the time at his twenty first birthday when that stripper had convinced him to do tequila shots out of her navel. Shooooooots. Shoooooots. Shoooooots.
After the longest five minutes of Shisui's life, Itachi's finally placing the last bite delicately onto the tip of his tongue. His adam's apple bobs when he swallows, and Shisui notices that there's flecks of powdered sugar there too- spattered down his neck and across his clavicle .Itachi's licking each of his fingers, lips stretching obscenely around them to suck the last traces of sugar from his skin. I still don't understand how I made this scene hot. But Allie assured me that I did, so... I'll trust her input.
Just like before, Shisui's moving before he can even consider it, leaning across the table so quickly that Itachi doesn't even have time to be startled.
His tongue dips into that curve of clavicle he'd been eying before, tasting sugar, fudge, salt, skin, and sunscreen all in one, a burst of flavor against his palette that has him groaning, dragging his tongue over Itachi's throat to get those pesky flecks of sugar. Itachi shudders against him, whimpering low in his throat, curling sticky fingers into the curls at the nape of Shisui's neck. Beneath the table, Itachi's hips jerk sharply and poor Norbert tumbles to the ground, landing dejectedly in a small puddle of water. Goddamn. I... forget how much Shisui liked licking things. Damn.
Shisui gasps and pulls back, eyes wide as he takes in Itachi's flushed state, the blush starting in his cheeks and travelling all the way down his chest- disappearing past the waistband of his swim trunks. He shudders and glances around, but the table they're at is tucked into a cove of palm trees, mostly hidden from view, so they're only getting a few odd looks.
He looks back at Itachi, truly takes in the way he's panting, the heat in his dark eyes and the sugar left forgotten on his fingertips. I think that in the first draft I'd meant to write another paragraph or two about Shisui fellating Itachi's fingers, but I didn't for some reason. Probably for the same reason that I didn't write the locker room scene, or the against a palm tree thing, or any other public sex act that me and Allie discussed and then sobbed about because of the rating we had to stick to. There's a promise in his eyes, a promise that speaks of things done behind closed (and locked) doors. But well, the bathroom has a lock on its door, right? A twinge of guilt shoots down his spine as he contemplates all the ways he can make Itachi arch beneath his fingers, and he remembers again what five year old Itachi had looked like, proudly striding out onto the water of the deep end, convinced that the floaties would totally make him walk on water, because Cousin Shisui would never lie to him- Allie is genius for that idea. I will never get it out of my head.
This was his little cousin, someone he shouldn't be doing this with, someone he should be laughing with and tutoring and sneaking alcoholic drinks to behind Aunt Mikoto's back, getting plastered with and laughing with over his dorky cousins lack of conquests, not someone that Shisui can look at and think wow, imagine what those lips would look like around my- Nice save there, Heather. Real subtle.
Itachi gets up before his brain can short out with that thought, and for a moment, Shisui worries if his cousin is pissed, that he'll scream rape or something and never talk to Shisui again. But no, he's striding around the table, bending to pick the dragon off the ground and then curling his hand into Shisui's, dragging him up and away from their seat with sugar and chocolate still smeared across his chest.
It's obvious that he's heading for the bathrooms, or maybe the changing areas, but as Shisui lets himself be dragged along in Itachi's wake, he spots something out of the corner of his eye and gets a better idea...
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"Times New Roman"">"No." Itachi says, glaring at him. He sniffs a little, tosses Shisui a haughty look and adds scathingly, "I'm not that horny, Shisui-kun." Sure you are, you cute little virgin you. Damn, now that I think about it, I can't remember if I'd intended for him to be a virgin or not.
Initially, the photographer had seemed a little put out. After all, usually they had assistants to help the customers try on the clothes. Young women who pointed out the best looking cowboy boots and the right color flapper dress. But after a few assurances that it was fine, really, they just wanted to check things out for themselves, the owner had subsided, edging across the small shop to try to goad two teenage girls into buying something. For the record, please don't ever try this. Unless you're very quick about the sex, you will get thrown out of the park.
Despite his protests, Itachi is still sitting on the stool, running his fingers along the cheap fabric of the pleated skirt, over the white ruffle of the apron- his cheeks are red, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, as if he's really thinking about this- Shisui sighs and adjusts his bowtie, taps his cowboy boots against the wooden floors. Likewise, this wouldn't be my story if I didn't include some form of crossdressing. He eyes the racks of clothes surrounding them, the rainbows of flapper dresses, the old tuxes, the cowboy hats of all colors and sizes. For a moment, he regrets slipping into the plain bartender outfit, because there's a cowboy hat on the third rack that he's just dying to try on- and well, besides, he'd seen a pair of chaps somewhere around here- chaps and cowboy hats, ah man.
Itachi's still looking at the outfit on the hanger with Norbert propped against the stools legs, his poor dragon legs still damp with water. The boots are loud when he walks, click-clacking across the floor so that Itachi's looking up at him before he's across the room. He grins down at him, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Itachi's swim trunks and using that hold to pull him to his feet- Itachi's still blushing, but he's starting get that look, the sly look he gets before he slams someone's rebuttal to pieces on the debate team, or the look he'd had right before he'd won the fourth grade spelling bee, making the runner up girl cry. Because I'm far too fascinated by the idea of AU!geek Itachi still being a complete fucking badass. Because he would be.
Shisui's just starting to feel wary, just starting to wonder if maybe he should be backing away, when Itachi presses his palm up against the bulge in Shisui's borrowed pants. His breath catches, his hips rocking forward and into Itachi's touch before he can stop himself.
Then Itachi's moving away, backing out of the cage of Shisui's arms so he can drop his swim suit trunks to the floor, bending down to grab something-
The look's still in his eyes as he shimmies into the cheaply made skirt, pulling it up and over his thighs, settling it low on his hips- just low enough that Shisui can still see the jut of a pale hipbone and that small trail of dark hair that leads beneath the skirt. And even though he'd seen Itachi naked just seconds ago, when he'd dropped his shorts, there's something infinitely more about the way Itachi slides the blouse down over his head, lets the sleeves fall off his shoulders the way they're supposed to, and wriggles, because the top's just a bit too small, stopping too early so that a line of pale flesh is still visible-
He bends over again, reaching for an apron that's beneath the rack of cowboy boots, and Shisui forgets to breathe because he's trying to look up Itachi's skirt, aching to catch a glimpse of the pale curve of his ass. Dat ass. Once Itachi's dragged the apron over to his stool he abandons it, slipping his feet into a pair of thigh high boots. Shisui watches, throat dry, his eyes following the path of the zipper as Itachi drags it up, encasing his pale thighs in shiny black imitation leather. Jesus christ, boots. Thigh highs! How obvious is it that I gave up and just made this story about my kinks?!
Itachi flicks Shisui a smoldering look, beckoning, and Shisui stumbles forward, already reaching forward before Itachi can say what he wants.
At first, his fingers are trembling so badly that he can hardly keep hold of the laces that keep the blouse together. But eventually, his short-circuiting brain decides to focus on the ties and not the way that Itachi's bare skin is beneath his fingers, so Shisui pulls just a bit too tightly- Itachi's breath catches and he stumbles forward, propping himself with one hand against a wooden pillar, body stretched long and taut across the stool.
Shisui shifts heavily on his feet as Itachi flicks a look back at him from under long lashes, a look that's surprisingly more heat than irritation. Crouching, he retrieves the last article of clothing from the floor. He ties the apron back around his waist with his plum tipped fingers, obviously masculine despite their size and softness, looking obscene against the ruffles. Shisui is calculating all the ways he can pin his cousin down and ravage him when Itachi spins around mockingly, dips into a low curtsy, and then lunges at Shisui. Savage little darling. I'm so in-love with AU Itachi, because you can really play with his outward "maybe kinda crazy" vs. the loving little softie he would be.
Itachi's lips are soft. They're like nothing Shisui's ever felt before- softer than any guy Shisui has ever kissed, but they press back against Shisui's more firmly than any woman. Itachi throws himself into the kiss with a passion that Shisui never would have guessed that Itachi was capable of, if they had simply been friends. There was too much pitted anger and overflowing grace in Itachi's actions that Shisui recognized and loved-
Itachi shifts and tucks himself in against Shisui's ribs, pressing their hips together and grinding. He's making hot gasping noises against Itachi's ear, too helpless and aroused to do anything but press back. And then Itachi's wrapping his arms around his neck, pressing close enough that Shisui can feel the shape of him through the skirt.
Shisui groans and wonders why the hell they'd never done this before. Silken fabric brushes against him and Itachi's panting in his ear, reaching one hand between them so he can unzip the ridiculous bartender slacks, reaching inside-
After that, things blur to a vague thought of flesh and skin, moans and hastily stifled cries, and all thoughts beyond that become impossible. Damn it. Annnnnd Allie deleted the couple of explicit scenes I had after this.
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"Times New Roman"">Afterwards, once they've shed the sticky, ruined costumes and donned their swimsuit apparel once more (and oh god, do the trunks chafe against his too sensitive flesh) they sneak out the backdoor, making their way back towards their bags and the wave pool. The sun is setting, turning the lazy river a rich orange, pink and lavender smeared across the clouds like finger paint. Pretty, pretty colors. I am so enraptured with sunsets. Half the pictures on my phone are things that I've just gone, "hey, that's pretty." Their bags and towels are just where they'd left them, still sitting atop their lonely lounge chair in the corner of the park. Itachi tosses Norbert on top of their towels, then yawns, stretching his arms up above his head until his spine pops. Shisui sinks down onto the chair with an exhausted sigh, sprawls across it so his legs are spilling off the end. He grins over at Itachi, who just gives him a mildly affectionate look in return and reaches up, plucking the aviators from atop his head and tossing them onto Shisui's stomach. Of course now he'll give them back. When Shisui doesn't even need them.
The wave pool is all but empty now, the park nearing closing time; the kids and most of the adults have abandoned it in favor of getting one last turn on the slides, or one last round of the lazy river. No one wants their last event of the day to be the wave pool- It really is cool, the wave pool twenty minutes or so before close, because really, it's deserted half the time. And this particular scene is something that's been in my dreams before. Not necessarily Itachi and Shisui, but the vibrant colors of sunset and still water.
It stretches out before them, quiet, chlorinated water reflecting orangepinkredgoldpurple back at them, pretty as a picture and just as still. I actually really like this whole ending bit, which is funny, because it was an accident. I was going to end it with the sex scene, but it felt unfinished, and Allie made a joke about Itachi doing Tai Chi in the wave pool and because I live to prove her wrong, I decided to make it good. After a few more minutes of stretching, Itachi steps into it, wading in until he's thigh deep in the water. All tension drains out of his body, limbs going slack and pliant, stature becoming loose. He relaxes into a stance, one that Shisui vaguely recognizes from watching Itachi attend so many Tai Chi lessons over the years.
Also, I did legitimate research about this. Nothing major, but about forty minutes at six in the morning looking through sites about Tai Chi and trolling Wikipedia. Technically you aren't really supposed to go about it like this at all, but for the type of movement I wanted- the scene I wanted you to envision, I had to kind of fuck around with it. And anyway, there are faster paced modern styles that are closer to what I wanted out of this. His movement is fluid, eyes shut against the rest of the park. He's finding his centre of gravity, and his movements are still slow, still warming up through a series of solo forms, spine straight and breathing low and deep, abdominal muscles working-- fast-slow, small circle-large circle, square-round, low sitting/high sitting, until he's adding different styles of pushing hands, blending the two forms together with a fluidity that Shisui still admires.
This was also written right after I got into Avatar: the Last Airbender, so a lot of the "tai chi" that I was envisioning was technically water bending, without the water. Well, he's standing in water, but- you know what I mean. He starts with the Chen style, moves through the Yang and into both of the Wu's, settling into the Sun style before moving right along and adding a blend of faster-paced modern styles until Shisui's not even sure what he's doing anymore, meshing all the styles and forms together so beautifully that it really looks like he's dancing on water. I'm also pretty sure that this scene came from three things: one, the waterbending steps, which I've mentioned. Two, the color of the sunset and reflections of the water in Kingdom Heart 1's intro. Three, Yuna's dance, from FFX. At least that's what I was thinking about. And again, it came together in my head gorgeously, and I really hope I managed to put it into your head as well.
Shisui sighs and propels himself from the chair, padding softly into the cool amber shaded water, each droplet a drop of liquid gold. He approaches Itachi with caution, because to him, this is a form of meditation, a state of heightened awareness and the last time Shisui had interrupted him mid-form, he'd been punched in the face.
But Itachi's winding down now, the fast, fluid movements of modern Tai Chi fading back into the slow, precise movements of old and Shisui finally thinks it's probably safe now, so he ducks under a slow moving arm and wraps his arms around Itachi's waist, pleased that instead of reacting violently Itachi goes slack in his arms, relaxing into the embrace. Beautiful.
Whisper soft, his tone colored with affection he says into the shell of Itachi's ear, "You freak, what have I told you about doing that in public?" I feel that I need to point out, that, corrupted by fanfiction and Naruto/Sasuke in particular when we were young, me and Al always had a problem with using derogatory terms as terms of endearments. When we first started dating, one friend of ours in particular tried to stir up drama between us by talking about how Allie never cared, because she always called me stupid, or asshole, or whatever, but I don't know how to explain that it was our thing. That it sounds utterly terrible, but they really were terms of affection for us. So, most people would probably flinch from being called a freak, but every relationship I write is flavored with something of mine and Allie's, and this part got that.
Itachi sighs, dropping his head back onto Shisui's shoulder, his voice just as soft when he whispers back, "Yes, well."
And that should say absolutely nothing, but Shisui knows what Itachi means. Knows that he will never care all that much about the opinions of the public as long as he has Sasuke and Shisui's support, knows that he does these things because he can, because he is an unstoppable force when it comes to the things he loves and that no one is going to stop him. And this is very Itachi- AU, crossover, canon, whatever. He is an unstoppable force, especially concerning Sasuke.
Shisui knows that Itachi will always be his kid cousin, the dorky one who likes numbers and using his words to change people's lives. Itachi will always be that little kid who thought he could walk on water, but he'll also always be the teenager who's won countless championships, the dorky seventeen year old who paints his nails a plum purple the exact shade of ink coloring Shisui's first tattoo- because I like to think that this is kind of beautiful too, that Itachi saw the polish and immediately thought of Shisui, taking to using it the most because he had this helpless crush on his cousin. the one who does Tai Chi and is a triple black belt. The one who could close his eyes and take over the world if he wanted. And that line there, that is one of those that I'm most proud of.
Somewhere ahead of them, the buzzer goes off for the last time, the waves beginning to stir around their thighs. Shisui opens his eyes, tucks his nose up against the dampness of Itachi's hair, and spins them around, their backs to the incoming waves and their faces toward the burning horizon. Again, imagery. Scenes that I can see perfectly in my head. Itachi sighs and his breath washes out, drying a patch of skin on Shisui's collarbone and Shisui thinks that he could grow to like this; that there are all kinds of things wrong with this relationship; that they'll have to hide it from their families, kiss behind locked doors and pretend. Because their relationship is never perfect, no matter the life. Knowing that their relationship will probably only progress if they move somewhere where no one can find them, change their names and pretend that they're just lovers, that their shared traits- dark hair, pale skin, dark eyes- are just a strange coincidence.
The first wave knocks up against the back of his knees, still mild, not enough to do anything more than rock them forward the slightest. Itachi breathes against his skin, heartbeat slow and content beneath Shisui's palm.
And yes, Itachi will always be his cousin.
Maybe he'll always be that kid, but he'll also always be the seventeen year old who'd blushed and softly thanked him when Shisui had handed him a stuffed dragon that grinned and said "Be Mine" across its heart, he'll always be the sly, crafty teenager who'd slid himself into a skirt and rocked with Shisui in a dressing room, soft velvet and cracked leather their only witness. He'll always be the sixteen year old who had smiled first at Shisui when he'd won Nationals, before he'd even thought of looking at his parents. He'll always be the fifteen year old who invented his own form of Tai Chi, the fourteen year old who's voice had cracked and sputtered whenever he talked to Shisui, the thirteen year old who had sat with Shisui during his rebellious years and told him around his book with a mocking smirk to "Man Up" when he'd gotten that first tattoo, Sui, the kanji for water tattooed in purple ink across his right shoulder. Can I tell you a secret? I want to write an entire spin off about their teenage life, because these little glimpses here were my favorite parts of the fic.
A second wave rocks into them, and they sway in a parody of a dance, one's eyes fixed on the burning sun and the other's closed against the richness of it all.
Their story goes back and back, until they're back at the beginning, because Itachi will always be that infant who'd cried until Aunt Mikoto had pressed him into four year old Shisui's spindly, toddler arms. The infant who'd gone quiet with one murmured word from the other boy, who'd gazed up at his cousin with something like recognition in his wide, doe-soft baby eyes- Got a little cheesy here, didn't it? But with most Naruto fics, especially AUs, I like to play off the reincarnation idea, that there's still something of canon Itachi and Shisui in them, and that beyond the guilt, Itachi will always still love him. Hence the next paragraph.
Shisui doesn't believe in things like reincarnation, not the way Itachi does. He doesn't understand the way that Itachi looks at him sometimes, sad and just a bit guilty, the way he flinches when Shisui's name is mistakenly spelled with the kanji's for "death" and "water" like he knows something that Shisui doesn't- that he remembers something that Shisui has no clue about. Ouuuuch. I forgot I wrote that.
But he does believe in destiny, just a little bit. And Shisui, forever the optimist. (Kind of.)
Enough that after seventeen years he finally recognizes that spark he'd felt on the day of Itachi's birth for what it really is. Enough that he realizes that this time, their story will stretch on.
Itachi's hand wraps around his, and the third wave is coming up behind them, loud enough that Shisui knows it's going to be a big one. He stifles a smile against Itachi's hair, presses a kiss where hair meets skin, pushes all thoughts of destiny and fate to the back of his head and squeezes Itachi's hand in his-
And together, they fall back into the waves. Man, I am such a sap. I love happy endings, but damn, this one is equal parts pretty and incredibly cheesy.
♥♥♥ FIN ♥♥♥