[drabble] Sharingan Practice, ita/shi
Title: Sharingan Practice
Rating: PG-13 if that
Pairing: Itachi/Suisui
Length: 803
Summary: I'm on withdraaaaaaawal. ;_; so you guys can't judge me on this fuckery. I dreamed up this questionably-humorous idiocy ages ago, but that doesn't make it any less... whatever it is. Hastily written? Still, you guys know you wanna read it, cause Ita/Shi is the best game in town :D
HIS HANDS are trailing with agonizing slowness up Itachi’s spine, the only contact between them as Shisui’s breath puffs warmly near his neck. Itachi bites his bottom lip hard against the hot shiver it induces. My neck, always my neck, how did he zero in on that so quickly? Shisui is not going to win again. Just because he made up this horrific game doesn’t mean he gets to win every time. In fact, especially because he made this up.
Shisui’s hand tangles slowly, ever so slowly in Itachi’s hair, searching for the ponytail holder. Itachi bends forward, shifting it out of his reach, and stares straight ahead. Shisui smirks at him and kisses him very firmly on the lips- it’s almost cheating, the slide of their mouths is too good. Itachi clenches his hands in his lap and refuses to deepen the kiss. No matter how wonderfully Shisui’s mouth is moving, asking to be let in. But he can’t, he definitely can’t. Shisui twists his tongue across his lips again, and then it ends.
Itachi comes to with a small gasp. He’s breaking the rules.
Several Uchiha shoot him hastily curtailed glares, then refocus on the droning of some third-stepcousin-once-removed. Roof resurfacing committee? Can anyone even pretend to care about that?
This is what passes for genjutsu practice between us, Itachi thinks. Father should be happy. We’re extending the Sharingan.
Itachi breathes deep, and sees Shisui across the meeting hall, looking so cocky Itachi wants to smack him. He settles for spinning the Sharingan as soon as he catches Shisui’s eyes, knowing he won’t be expecting a counterattack so quickly.
In the genjutsu he now controls, he’s already in Shisui’s lap, his legs splayed over Shisui's thighs, and the backdrop of the actual clan meeting is just a dull dum. Itachi prides himself on being a fast learner, and it only took a few times of Shisui grinding his lips like that before Itachi got the drift. Shisui gives him a mix that is undoubtedly pride and arousal mixed together, trying very hard not to look like what it is. If the clan notices, the game is up. Every time, they push boundaries, and it gets harder to disguise their genjutsu attacks on the other. They either look completely zoned out, or they have mysteriously activated the Sharingan during a clan meeting- a sign of suspicion (why not? They are all a naturally distrustful bunch) or, even better, a fervent desire to memorize the dry speeches being given (bonus points for sucking up!). The only thing they can’t show is arousal- that would be asking for Dishonor, Dishonor, You have Ruined the Family Name. Sexual Urges are Not Permitted. And Have some More Dishonor While You’re At It.
Shisui’s breathing is very slow, very measured, very controlled, oh so deliberately paced to ignore what is going on.
I shouldn’t do this, but… he started it. Itachi knows there will be a terrible price to pay for upping the ante this much. Shisui just isn’t the type to let this sort of sabotage go un-repaid. And Itachi finds he doesn’t care.
He shifts and presses his hand directly against Shisui’s lap, and squeezes. Shisui’s eyes bulge comically at his audacity, and he makes a barely-audible strangled squeak. Worth it, Itachi thinks, smirking and further dooming himself by palming Shisui’s smooth cheek and kissing him with all he’s got. He moves his hand against Shisui’s lap still, stroking lightly, feeling it grow warmer. He swipes his tongue against the roof of his cousin’s mouth, then their tongues tangle in a dizzy spiral. The smell of orange blossoms from the walk they took earlier that day. Fresh grass, from training, and dango from lunch: they don’t fit into the setting of the meeting hall, but he throws them in, preferring to assault Shisui with sensory overload, because he’s going to get it when his illusion ends. Shisui vibrates, a tiny tremble, underneath him, trying to hold it together. Itachi maintains the rest of the illusion to perfectly mimic what is really going on, down to the strange glances an eighty-year-old Uchiha woman is casting over at the quivering clan prodigy.
He is doomed. So very, very doomed- the other rule being, of course, that you have to meet the other’s eyes eventually. No shirking out of any genjutsu they fling at each other.
Itachi ends his turn, and they both seem to jump back into their bodies at either end of the packed meeting hall. His skin is burning, a flush rushing up and down- this street runs both ways, of course.
Shisui has bowed his head, trying very hard to obscure his choked breathing, reconcile his former state with his present one, sitting calmly on his knees.
Eventually, his cousin raises his head, and Itachi meets Shisui’s devious red eyes- fearlessness is a mark of a great shinobi, of course.
-------------
i think they would do this. >______>
if anyone's got a better title, fling it my way?
nthcoincident, i'm doing the meme, course. *pats it* it's in my pocket, partway finished. :D
Rating: PG-13 if that
Pairing: Itachi/Suisui
Length: 803
Summary: I'm on withdraaaaaaawal. ;_; so you guys can't judge me on this fuckery. I dreamed up this questionably-humorous idiocy ages ago, but that doesn't make it any less... whatever it is. Hastily written? Still, you guys know you wanna read it, cause Ita/Shi is the best game in town :D
HIS HANDS are trailing with agonizing slowness up Itachi’s spine, the only contact between them as Shisui’s breath puffs warmly near his neck. Itachi bites his bottom lip hard against the hot shiver it induces. My neck, always my neck, how did he zero in on that so quickly? Shisui is not going to win again. Just because he made up this horrific game doesn’t mean he gets to win every time. In fact, especially because he made this up.
Shisui’s hand tangles slowly, ever so slowly in Itachi’s hair, searching for the ponytail holder. Itachi bends forward, shifting it out of his reach, and stares straight ahead. Shisui smirks at him and kisses him very firmly on the lips- it’s almost cheating, the slide of their mouths is too good. Itachi clenches his hands in his lap and refuses to deepen the kiss. No matter how wonderfully Shisui’s mouth is moving, asking to be let in. But he can’t, he definitely can’t. Shisui twists his tongue across his lips again, and then it ends.
Itachi comes to with a small gasp. He’s breaking the rules.
Several Uchiha shoot him hastily curtailed glares, then refocus on the droning of some third-stepcousin-once-removed. Roof resurfacing committee? Can anyone even pretend to care about that?
This is what passes for genjutsu practice between us, Itachi thinks. Father should be happy. We’re extending the Sharingan.
Itachi breathes deep, and sees Shisui across the meeting hall, looking so cocky Itachi wants to smack him. He settles for spinning the Sharingan as soon as he catches Shisui’s eyes, knowing he won’t be expecting a counterattack so quickly.
In the genjutsu he now controls, he’s already in Shisui’s lap, his legs splayed over Shisui's thighs, and the backdrop of the actual clan meeting is just a dull dum. Itachi prides himself on being a fast learner, and it only took a few times of Shisui grinding his lips like that before Itachi got the drift. Shisui gives him a mix that is undoubtedly pride and arousal mixed together, trying very hard not to look like what it is. If the clan notices, the game is up. Every time, they push boundaries, and it gets harder to disguise their genjutsu attacks on the other. They either look completely zoned out, or they have mysteriously activated the Sharingan during a clan meeting- a sign of suspicion (why not? They are all a naturally distrustful bunch) or, even better, a fervent desire to memorize the dry speeches being given (bonus points for sucking up!). The only thing they can’t show is arousal- that would be asking for Dishonor, Dishonor, You have Ruined the Family Name. Sexual Urges are Not Permitted. And Have some More Dishonor While You’re At It.
Shisui’s breathing is very slow, very measured, very controlled, oh so deliberately paced to ignore what is going on.
I shouldn’t do this, but… he started it. Itachi knows there will be a terrible price to pay for upping the ante this much. Shisui just isn’t the type to let this sort of sabotage go un-repaid. And Itachi finds he doesn’t care.
He shifts and presses his hand directly against Shisui’s lap, and squeezes. Shisui’s eyes bulge comically at his audacity, and he makes a barely-audible strangled squeak. Worth it, Itachi thinks, smirking and further dooming himself by palming Shisui’s smooth cheek and kissing him with all he’s got. He moves his hand against Shisui’s lap still, stroking lightly, feeling it grow warmer. He swipes his tongue against the roof of his cousin’s mouth, then their tongues tangle in a dizzy spiral. The smell of orange blossoms from the walk they took earlier that day. Fresh grass, from training, and dango from lunch: they don’t fit into the setting of the meeting hall, but he throws them in, preferring to assault Shisui with sensory overload, because he’s going to get it when his illusion ends. Shisui vibrates, a tiny tremble, underneath him, trying to hold it together. Itachi maintains the rest of the illusion to perfectly mimic what is really going on, down to the strange glances an eighty-year-old Uchiha woman is casting over at the quivering clan prodigy.
He is doomed. So very, very doomed- the other rule being, of course, that you have to meet the other’s eyes eventually. No shirking out of any genjutsu they fling at each other.
Itachi ends his turn, and they both seem to jump back into their bodies at either end of the packed meeting hall. His skin is burning, a flush rushing up and down- this street runs both ways, of course.
Shisui has bowed his head, trying very hard to obscure his choked breathing, reconcile his former state with his present one, sitting calmly on his knees.
Eventually, his cousin raises his head, and Itachi meets Shisui’s devious red eyes- fearlessness is a mark of a great shinobi, of course.
-------------
i think they would do this. >______>
if anyone's got a better title, fling it my way?
nthcoincident, i'm doing the meme, course. *pats it* it's in my pocket, partway finished. :D